by Sarah Price
“Only God is perfect,” she retorted.
“OK,” he teased. “God and you.”
“Alejandro!”
But his laughter made her smile, despite the poor taste of his joke.
“Come,” he said softly, tugging at her hand. “Let’s go dancing tonight.”
“Dancing?” She shook her head. “You know I don’t know how to dance.”
He didn’t listen to her but led her out of the dining room, ignoring her protests. Instead of stopping, he took her outside and made her stand near the cabana. He disappeared inside, and moments later, she heard music. Soft, beautiful music with a rhythmic beat to it and a tinny sound. When he came back to her, he was moving his feet and hips in rhythm with the music.
“Salsa!” he said proudly, dancing around her, his body moving as if connected to the music. He clapped his hands and reached for her. She laughed at him, amazed at how fast he could move his feet. “Come, Princesa. Learn to salsa with me.”
“Salsa sounds like a food!” she quipped back but took his hands.
He pulled at her, trying to get her to move her feet as he was doing. She laughed, stumbling as she tried, so he placed his hands on her hips, moving them back and forth so that she could feel the rhythm. “That’s right,” he cooed when she started to relax and move. “Now your feet. Pretend you are skating on ice a little. Good girl!” She felt ridiculous but enjoyed the expression on his face. He was enjoying teaching her this dance, that was for sure and certain. “Now, move your arms a bit. Like this, sí?” She tried to imitate him but felt foolish.
He let go of her hips and began to dance on his own, circling around her with his feet twisting and turning as he moved. Then he reached for her again, placing his hand on her waist and holding her one hand in his other. He gently pushed and pulled at her waist as he danced around the patio with her. Amanda stumbled more than danced, but Alejandro was a forgiving dance partner. At one point, he twisted her around so that she dipped under his arm and spiraled. When she stopped, he pulled her into his arms and laughed.
“Not bad, Princesa,” he said. “You might make a good cubanita after all.”
“Cubanita?” she asked, repeating the word.
“Little Cuban mama,” he said and brushed his finger against the tip of her nose. “You are certainly beautiful enough.”
She blushed and looked away. “Don’t say such things,” she whispered, despite liking it.
“¿Por qué no?” When she didn’t respond, he chuckled to himself, amused at her modesty. “Sweet Amanda,” he said. “You don’t know what you have, do you?”
No reaction.
The music switched to a slow-moving song. He held her tight and moved in time to the beat. She began to relax and laid her head against his shoulder. Shutting her eyes, she listened to the slow rhythm of the music and felt him guiding her as they danced.
What is sinful about this? she wondered.
As if reading her mind, Alejandro cleared his throat before he spoke. “You are adapting quite well, Princesa.” His voice sounded husky and gruff. “Not too many thoughts of home?”
How often did she think of home? There were moments, glimpses of her past that continued to peek into her present. She missed her mother and her father, that was for sure and certain. She missed the animals on the farm. But Alejandro kept her busy and his life was so full, so exciting and vibrant. While she would have liked spending more time with him in the evenings, she understood that he needed to work and, for Alejandro, that meant going out to the clubs.
“Some,” she finally admitted.
“Thoughts of returning?” he asked, the same gruffness in his voice.
She pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. What was he thinking? she wanted to know. Was he worried? Even in the dim glow of the outside lights around the pool, she could see his blue eyes, so clear and transparent yet so full of everything about him. Her heart started to beat rapidly, and she suddenly knew why the Ordnung forbade dancing. It was moments like this that they wanted the youth to avoid. Moments of closeness that could lead to intimacy. “Nee,” she whispered.
He pulled her into his arms and hugged her, his body pressed tight against hers. She could feel the power of his muscles and the heat of his skin. Her pulse quickened, and she knew that she had to retreat. Her will was strong, and she wouldn’t give up the core piece of her Amish upbringing, although she also sensed that Alejandro respected that enough to not ask her to make a choice.
“I . . . I should go clean up the kitchen,” she said when he released her.
He laughed, shaking his head. She was trying to escape, that much was obvious. “Don’t you dare, Princesa. Señora Perez will do that in the morning.”
“Well then, I . . . I guess I’ll . . .” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she needed to get away from him, away from the powerful feelings she felt when he held her and touched her.
As if understanding her dilemma, he placed a finger on her lips and shook his head. “Don’t say it. I understand. And”—he glanced at his watch—“I must be going out. I have to meet Eduardo and Little Juan for a while tonight. And we have a big day tomorrow.”
She looked at him with wide eyes. “Ja?”
“You will meet mi madre, the formidable Alecia.” He smiled and shook his head, laughing to himself. “What she will do with you, I have no idea. It should be quite interesting.”
Amanda frowned. She wasn’t certain what that meant but knew better than to ask him. The only thing Amanda knew was that family was to be respected and honored.
Chapter Sixteen
She wore a modest blue dress with her hair tied back in her customary bun at the nape of her neck. Rather than the fancy high heels, she wore flat sandals with blue stones on the front. It felt funny wearing sandals; she was so used to being barefoot. Whenever they went out at night, she wore those dreaded chunky-heeled shoes that Alejandro loved so much, but she always felt as though she might fall.
He had driven the Porsche to his mother’s house, which was located just twenty minutes away. Prior to arriving, he had sighed and stopped the car at a store, slipping inside to pick up a large bouquet of flowers. Several people recognized him, and he paused long enough to have his photograph taken with them. Amanda watched from inside the car, amused at how he could transform. During the car ride, he had been quiet and deep in thought, but once the fans recognized him, he was all smiles and laughter.
As he got back into the car, several people noticed Amanda and took photos of her, too. She waved, knowing that was what Alejandro would want her to do. The people smiled and cheered, snapping photos as Alejandro pulled out of the parking lot.
His mother’s house was in a secluded area, but the surroundings were not as grandiose as at Alejandro’s condo. Her home was a redbrick house with white pillars, very different from Alejandro’s beautiful penthouse condo with walls of windows and breathtaking views of the Atlantic Ocean. There was a tall fence surrounding his mother’s house with a gate at the entrance. Alejandro pulled up to it and rolled down his window, punching a code into the number pad. As the gates slid open, he glanced at Amanda and gave her a supportive smile.
“¿Listo?”
She looked at him, not understanding what he’d said.
“Ready?” he translated, laughing. But it was a forced laugh. She could tell that he was uncomfortable as he put the Porsche into first gear and drove through the gate.
There were other cars in the driveway, and she heard him exhale. Clearly, she was going to be meeting more than just his mother today. She felt her own nerves begin to tense, feeding off Alejandro’s pulsating energy. She didn’t know why she was nervous, except that he was, too. It was rubbing off on her. That was for certain.
When the door opened, Amanda stood behind Alejandro. He was wearing simple khaki
pants with a black short-sleeve shirt. He plucked his sunglasses from his face and hooked them over the front of his shirt, stepping back to place his hand on her waist and guide her through the front door.
“They’ll be out back,” he said, his voice flat.
The house was much simpler than Alejandro’s home. It was colorful and bright with photos on the walls. She paused to glance at them. Alejandro. Children. Photos of what she imagined was Cuba. She saw one of Alejandro with the hint of a beard and a baseball cap tilted sideways on his head. He looked young and fierce, a scowl on his face.
He paused, letting Amanda absorb what she saw before he cleared his throat, indicating that it was time to move on.
The doors were open to the outside, and there were at least thirty people standing around the pool, talking and laughing, drinks in their hands. Instead of short, skimpy outfits, the women were dressed more modestly. Unlike the parties at Alejandro’s condo, these people were all Latino . . . Cubans, most likely. And from the way that they all quieted down when Alejandro walked in, quickly assessing her, she suspected they were family.
Alejandro took a deep breath before he walked down the steps to the patio, his arm still protectively around Amanda’s waist, gently pulling her along beside him. The group of people remained silent, watching and smiling as Alejandro approached.
There was a shift in the crowd as a woman walked forward. She was a small woman with dyed black hair that was pulled back from her face, similar to how Amanda wore hers. Her face was wrinkled and round, with large blue eyes that stared first at Alejandro before turning toward Amanda.
She stopped in front of the couple and lifted her chin, one eyebrow raised slightly, a gesture that Amanda realized was so typical of Alejandro. And she knew that she was standing before his mother, while the rest of the crowd watched for the introduction of Alejandro’s lady friend.
“Bienvenido,” she said simply to Amanda.
Amanda glanced at Alejandro, not certain what his mother had said.
“Mami,” he started. “May I present Amanda Beiler?”
His mother glanced at him, narrowing her eyes slightly before she turned back to Amanda. “Sí,” she said and leaned forward, kissing Amanda on both cheeks. “I have heard much about you.”
Amanda didn’t know how to respond. She felt strange with all of these people staring at her. It dawned on her that these people had known Alejandro for most of his life. They’d known him during his troubled years living on the streets of Miami, when he dealt drugs and fathered children that he didn’t even know. They knew him in ways that she never would, saw sides of him that she never wanted to see. For some reason, she began to sweat between her shoulder blades and her hands started to feel damp.
“Unfortunately,” his mother said, scowling at Alejandro, “not from my son.”
“Ay, Mami,” he said, shaking his head. “Why do you have to be like that?”
She lifted her chin and stared directly at him. Indeed, Amanda could tell that she was a formidable woman, one who was proud and strong, not despite her past struggles but because of them. “¡Sí!” she snapped. “I read about this woman in the papers? Disgraceful.”
He mumbled something under his breath in Spanish.
“A woman lives in your home?” She tsk-tsked under her breath, shaking her head. For the first time, Amanda felt ashamed. She knew exactly what his mother must have been thinking. What everyone most likely was thinking. Color rose to her cheeks, for she hadn’t looked at it that way.
“Oh no!” Amanda said softly. “It’s . . . it’s not like that.” There was a sense of urgency to her tone, an urgency that caught the attention of the people standing nearby who watched the introduction of Amanda to Alecia.
His mother turned her gaze to assess Amanda. “Then how is it? There is no chaperone? And this is my son, no?” The way she stressed the words my son hinted at an underlying meaning that caused Amanda’s cheeks to darken in color.
Alejandro stiffened next to her, and immediately Amanda realized that she had put him in this situation. She had caused this rift between his mother and him. “I am not like that,” she whispered, lowering her eyes.
“Oh?” This intrigued the mother and her look softened. “Then what are you like, Amanda Beiler?”
“Mami . . .” Alejandro started, shifting uncomfortably next to Amanda, but his mother held up her hand, stopping him in midsentence.
Everyone was watching, listening. Now Amanda understood why Alejandro had been reluctant to bring her to meet his mother. There was silent judgment amid false accusations. “I . . .” She didn’t know how to explain it. Finally, she reached for his mother’s hand and held it in her own. “Your son saved me, Señora Diaz. He saved my family, too.” She looked up at Alejandro and smiled, feeling as if she had to somehow protect him from the accusations. “He is a good man with a very large heart to do this for me. My own church was going to send me away or shun my family.”
“Alecia!” Someone called, walking toward her from the crowd. It was an older man, who placed his broad hand on Alejandro’s shoulder. “Perhaps it is time that you introduce us to this young friend of your son, no?”
For a moment, Alecia stared at Amanda, her blue eyes searching Amanda’s dark ones. She glanced down at the hand that held hers, and after a brief hesitation, Alecia almost smiled. The corner of her mouth quivered, another facial expression that was so similar to Alejandro’s.
“¿Mi hijo? ¿Un buen hombre?” Her eyes danced at the words. Amanda didn’t understand what she’d said. But whatever it was caused his mother to relax. She clutched Amanda’s hand, squeezing it gently. “If you think so,” she said, “then you must be one very innocent woman.”
“Mami!”
His mother looked at Alejandro, her eyes sharp and fierce. “Don’t ruin that in this girl. I can see from her eyes and hear from her words that she is . . .” His mother hesitated. “Different. Don’t spoil it, Alejandro Christian!”
He looked away.
Alecia pulled Amanda away from her son, still holding her hand, and guided her toward the crowds of people. They were watching her, still smiling and eager to meet her. Apparently Amanda had passed his mother’s inspection, for she introduced the young Amish woman to aunts and uncles, cousins and family friends. They all greeted her with handshakes and smiles, some even reaching out to embrace her.
Alejandro moved away from the masses and made his way to a group of three men who greeted him with warm hugs, slapping him good-naturedly on his back. Amanda was relieved to see that he looked more relaxed now. Apparently, she thought, his mother must have approved.
It was a hot summer day when the family arrived at the Beiler farm. Amanda stood on the porch, her bare feet dry and dusty from having worked outside all morning, helping her father and brother with the dairy before spending an hour in the garden. It hadn’t rained in a while, so she had to water the plants by carrying a large bucket back and forth from the faucet in the barn.
Aunts, uncles, and cousins arrived by buggies, parking them along the lane. The women carried baskets of food into the house while their husbands unharnessed the horses and led them to the barn and pasture.
Outside of the house, Amanda and Aaron had set up tables with benches and folding chairs to accommodate the fifty-plus people who descended upon the farm. It was always gut to see the family and very rare to get everyone together.
Her mother’s family was large. She had nine brothers and sisters. Only five showed up as the others either lived too far away or had other plans that weekend. Among the cousins, there were at least thirty who arrived, ranging in age from five years old to thirty-five. Some of the older ones brought their own children. Within an hour, the front yard was alive with kinner racing around and laughing while the older adults lounged in the shade and talked.
The women were in the kitchen, preparing the noon mea
l. Amanda found time to sit quietly on the porch, a cold glass of meadow tea in her hands as she watched the activity. She saw her sister, Anna, talking with three of their cousins, young women who lived in the neighboring church district. Anna looked at home among the cousins, despite the fact that they did not see one another very often.
Aaron walked up to her, slipping quietly onto the bench beside her. “Why aren’t you joining them?” he asked innocently.
She glanced at her younger bruder and leaned over, nudging him gently with her shoulder. “Sometimes it’s nice to just watch, ja?”
“Watch?” he asked.
“Ja, watch,” she responded. “This is our family, and I like to watch how they interact. Family is so important, Aaron. I think we are blessed to have such a right gut one, ain’t so?”
He followed her gaze and tried to see what Amanda saw. The power of family was lost on Aaron. He was too young. “I’d rather be playing ball, I reckon. More fun than just sitting here.”
She laughed at him as he slid off the bench and ran back to join his cousins who were throwing the ball to one another in the front yard. One day, she thought, as she turned her gaze to watch him. One day he will understand.
The fiesta at Alejandro’s mother’s house lasted until the sun had set. After hours of eating and drinking, laughing and talking, everyone was reluctant to leave. But Alecia signaled that it was time to wrap up the event by announcing that she was tired and going to bed soon. While she suggested that the family could stay, no one did. They knew it was time to say good-bye and part company.
Alecia started to walk out but paused by Alejandro. She stood before him, looking him over with a critical eye before she nodded her head. “I will walk you and Amanda out,” she announced. It was time for them to go, she was saying.
Tucking her hand into the crook of Alejandro’s arm, Alecia walked beside him, Amanda trailing obediently behind, pausing to say good-bye to two of the cousins who were nearby. She could hear Alecia talking to her son, her words low so that no one could hear. Amanda didn’t have to try, for the words were in Spanish and she wouldn’t have understood anyway.