Plain Again

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Plain Again Page 12

by Sarah Price


  Twitter? She had heard the name before but had never asked about it, figuring it was one of those strange social media concepts that Alejandro always mentioned and she had no interest in understanding. Virtual world? She was having enough trouble navigating the real one that was Alejandro’s life, that was for sure and certain.

  When the commercial break was over, the cameramen began to take action and the host of the show stepped onto the stage to join Viper. Amanda watched, her eyes drinking in the transformation of Alejandro, her husband, into Viper the superstar. His entire demeanor adjusted, his words spoken with more of an accent as he used street lingo that he never used with her. He would lower his sunglasses and wink into the camera or smile and wave at the fans as he spoke. He knew how to work the crowd, and the crowd responded by shouting out his name and screaming for his attention.

  “I understand you have a special guest with you today,” the host said. The crowd went wild, and Viper laughed, winking and then pausing a moment so that their eager roar could die down.

  “If you mean my Princesa, then sí, she is here, with me, today!” He looked in her direction and gestured for her to join him.

  Amanda felt the color drain from her face. Without her realizing that it was happening, one of the security guards took hold of her arm and led her through the gate, ignoring the fans lining the walkway, toward the steps leading onto the stage. Amanda had no choice but to join him. It was one thing to sit on a stage and be interviewed by a reporter. It was quite another to stand before so many adoring fans and know that it was being televised to millions of people.

  Viper crossed the stage and reached out his hand, the gesture one of such chivalry that it caused a murmur among the crowd. She looked up at him, her dark eyes wide and frightened. But one look at his sparkling baby blues that peered at her over his sunglasses and she knew that he would let nothing bad happen to her.

  On the stage, Viper presented his wife to the crowd, giving her a slight bow as he gestured toward her. The noise that emitted from the studio audience surprised Amanda, so she took a step backward, pressing her body behind his, which only made the crowd roar louder. He laughed and brought her forward once again.

  “Don’t be shy,” he whispered, just loud enough for the microphone to catch. “Just wave and smile. Be yourself, Princesa.”

  Reluctantly, she did as he instructed.

  “Amanda, you’ve joined Viper for the week after having been home taking care of your father. How is everything back at the farm?” The host thrust the microphone toward her face, and for just a moment, she blinked, unsure of how to respond. With no urging from Alejandro, she decided to answer as he had instructed: by being herself.

  “Daed is much better, danke,” she said. “And it is ever so gut to be back with Alejandro.”

  “Congratulations on your first Thanksgiving together,” the host said, a genuine smile on his face. “There’s no place like New York City during the holidays.”

  At that statement, she laughed. “There’s no place like New York City, period!”

  Her comment brought laughter from the crowd as well as the host and Alejandro.

  “I imagine it’s a far cry from having grown up on an Amish farm, isn’t it?” the host said.

  “That’s quite an understatement” was her simple response.

  The host turned his attention back to Alejandro. “And I hear that Viper has something special for us today. A new release, is it?”

  Relieved that she was out of the line of fire from the morning show host and no longer of interest to the cameras, Amanda waited patiently while Alejandro answered a few more questions before it was time for him to perform. Then the host gestured to her that they should leave the stage; she eagerly followed him down the steps and back through the crowds.

  “Your autograph! Amanda!”

  “A photo! Please, Amanda!”

  Young girls were jumping up and down, screaming for her as they leaned over the metal barricade. The host paused and turned toward Amanda, indicating with a nod of his head that she could sign a few autographs with the fans if she wanted to do so.

  She felt put on the spot. Turning to the closest group of girls, she tried to smile. “An autograph? You mean just my signature?” She had never understood that. She had seen Alejandro do that on numerous occasions, stopping to sign pieces of paper, shirts, even arms. It seemed to make the fans happy, but Amanda had never quite understood why.

  “Please! Here! Sign this!”

  The girl thrust a photo at Amanda. To her surprise, it was a photo of her and Alejandro. Before she knew what was happening, other girls were shoving their own similar photos at her and waving their pens. Giving into the pressure, she took the pens and signed her name to the photos, doing her best to accommodate as many as she could. After a few minutes, the security guard began to wave away the young fans before he directed Amanda toward a different area to wait.

  “Where did they get those photographs?” she asked the host.

  “Hmm?” He glanced at her, then back at the girls. “Street vendors are probably selling them. They try to take advantage of the situation. They always do.”

  It caught her by surprise that the host was not as friendly off camera as he was on camera. Most of the reporters and interviewers to whom she had been exposed had been genuinely nice people, regardless of whether the cameras were rolling. What a sad commentary and how it speaks about his true character, she thought wistfully and returned her attention to her husband.

  It wasn’t until they were back in the car, headed across midtown to another recording studio where they were scheduled to appear on a midmorning talk show, that she mentioned the rude behavior of the host from the morning show.

  Alejandro laughed and leaned his head back on the neck rest. “Ay, mi madre, Princesa,” he said as he caught his breath. “Nothing surprises me anymore. Nothing except what surprises you!”

  She tried to hide her smile at his unexpected display of mirth at her complaint. “I fail to see what is so humorous,” she said, pretending to pout. “There’s no excuse for a lack of manners, I reckon.”

  “No excuse,” Alejandro replied. “Only plenty of opportunity, especially in this business.”

  She made a face at him, which only caused him to laugh again.

  It only took ten minutes to travel to their next appointment. Traffic was not as busy and so they arrived early. Without a crowd waiting outside the building, Alejandro and Amanda slipped through the front door, greeted at the reception desk by a security guard who escorted them to the elevators and upstairs to the studio.

  People were bustling around, most of them dressed in casual attire, in sharp contrast to Alejandro in his freshly laundered black shirt and crisp black slacks. He had changed into them after the first performance that morning, always concerned about his appearance for the fans and cameras.

  Amanda watched the activity, curious as usual about the cameras, lights, and process. It reminded her of the organized chaos following an Amish worship service: everyone was moving about to set up the room without being directed, as they simply knew what to do, despite the outward appearance of disorganization.

  “Viper!”

  A man approached Alejandro from the shadows and greeted him with a handshake that spoke of familiarity. He smiled politely at Amanda but focused on Alejandro.

  “You ready for the big day, eh?”

  Alejandro gave a shrug of his shoulders. “Just another day, sí?”

  “Big day?” Amanda asked.

  Alejandro leaned over. “Tomorrow,” he whispered.

  She didn’t understand what he meant but didn’t question him further. Whatever this “big day” was, she’d find out in due time.

  “Let’s get you both to makeup,” the man said and led them down a corridor toward a series of rooms where people were waiting to get the couple ready for the interview.

  For the next fifteen minutes, makeup artists crowded around her, applying foundati
on and blush to her cheeks before attempting to work on her eyes. Taking a deep breath, Amanda turned her head away. Too much, she wanted to say but hoped that her gesture was enough to make her point.

  Seated beside her, Alejandro glanced over, noticing her discomfort. He reached out and touched the artist’s hand. “Ay,” he said, his voice commanding but kind. “She’s beautiful enough, no?”

  The artist rolled his eyes and took a deep breath before moving away.

  “Danke,” Amanda whispered. “I don’t know why they need to put all of that stuff on our faces.”

  Alejandro laughed as he stood up from the seat and reached for her hand. “The lights wash out the color on our faces,” he explained again. “But you are more than beautiful enough to not need so much, I agree.” He smiled at the young man, who gestured for them to follow him.

  There were television monitors in the waiting area by the stage entrance. Amanda sat quietly, her eyes on the monitor as she watched the screen. It was the live version of the show, and right now, the host, an older woman with blond hair, was seated at a desk and talking to the audience. Oblivious, Alejandro was on his phone, talking in Spanish to someone when a man walked in and motioned toward him.

  “You’ll go on first, and then we’ll bring Amanda,” he said to Alejandro, his eyes barely glancing at her. “OK, Viper?”

  Within seconds, Amanda was seated alone in the room. It was quiet except for the television monitor, and once again, she lifted her eyes to stare at it. The host had moved away from the desk and was seated in a chair next to a white sofa. She was looking into the camera and announcing her next guest: Viper. The crowd applauded, several people calling out, as he emerged from behind the back curtain, a smile on his face and his hand lifted in the air, waving to the audience.

  Despite knowing that he was just a few dozen yards from her, it felt strange to realize that he had, only moments before, left her side. She watched as he sat down in the chair next to the host’s desk on the stage, smoothing his black pants so that they would not wrinkle. The smile on his face was a genuine one, not the forced smile that she had come to recognize during interviews when he was on tour and tired. His blue eyes sparkled, and he lifted his hand one more time toward the audience.

  When they had finally settled down, the host began to ask him questions, mostly about his current tour and where he would be traveling to over the holidays and into next year. Amanda listened with an attentive ear, hearing him list the countries and continents, the audience laughing when he rolled his eyes at the exhaustive list. Prior to his having read this list of the planned tour a few weeks back, she had never heard of half the countries he had mentioned. Now, listening to him recite them, she felt a flutter in her chest. Was she really ready to travel all over the world in the next four months?

  “Five minutes,” someone said from the doorway.

  Amanda looked up, startled by the voice. She never saw who had said it, for the person was already gone.

  Her eyes strayed back to the monitor. Alejandro looked so comfortable as he answered question after question, his responses natural and charming. Amanda couldn’t help but wonder how he had learned to be so comfortable in front of so many people.

  Oh, she had listened to his stories about struggling to make it, so many years ago. Back in Miami, he had told her those tales while they lay in each other’s arms, a candle flickering in the bedroom after sharing moments of intimacy reserved only for husband and wife.

  He had told her about performing at clubs, often fighting with people who mocked him for his songs. Back in those days, most of his performances had been geared toward the Hispanic population, all of his songs in Spanish. Men teased him, jealous over his increasing popularity as both a singer and a star.

  Still, he had persevered. Nothing was going to ruin his dream, he had whispered to Amanda, his lips against her ear and his hand stroking her bare arm.

  His dedication to his career was something that she both wondered about and admired. Growing up Amish, Amanda had never seen such determination among any member of her community. There was no need. Success was a good crop of corn or a well-made quilt. Success was not something that was seen as progressive and continual; it was individual acts of obedience to parents, community, and God. That was the way of the Amish.

  Her mind traveled to a verse from the book of James: Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you. Despite Alejandro’s success, she knew that privately he was a humble man. Unlike several other artists, Alejandro’s contemporaries in the music industry that she had met, Alejandro did not take his stardom for granted. He spent time with his adoring fans, reached out to them through social media, personalized his approach with his music. And before each performance, she had always noticed that he took a moment to pray to God, thanking him for the rewards that had followed his hard work.

  “Ready, Amanda?”

  Her thoughts interrupted, she turned and nodded at the man who gestured for her to follow him. With forced confidence, Amanda walked onto the set and hesitated, just for a moment, a shy smile on her face when the audience began to cheer and applaud her arrival. She glanced into the seated crowd, startled that so many were excited for her entrance. Then, turning her eyes toward Alejandro, she saw that he was standing and walking toward her, his hand outstretched for her to take.

  His presence reassured her, and she hurried toward him, comforted when he grasped her hand and led her to the chairs. As always, he waited for her to sit first before he joined her.

  “Amanda,” the host said, a big grin on her expressive face. “It’s quite an honor to have you here today.”

  “It is?” Amanda asked back, surprised at the use of such a word. Honor was not a word that the Amish used lightly. And it was certainly never used in conjunction with meeting someone. After all, God created people and only God was above them.

  The audience, however, laughed.

  Alejandro squeezed her hand and laughed, too.

  The blond woman behind the desk leaned forward, staring at Amanda with that same smile on her face. She seemed to be studying her, and it made Amanda feel uncomfortable. “The whole world seems to be watching you, Amanda. You’ve taken them by storm.”

  Again, Amanda professed to not understand this. “I don’t understand why,” she replied. “I’m just a person like them.”

  The audience laughed once again but seemed pleased with her humble responses.

  “What is it like, Amanda?” the host started to ask, changing the direction of the conversation. “You grew up amid the Amish, but now you are traveling the world with your husband, Viper, the international superstar who seems to turn everything he touches into gold.”

  Inwardly, Amanda sighed. The same questions. Everyone always wanted to know what it was like to travel with him. She wasn’t certain how to respond, not in a way that people might find interesting. So she just told the truth. “Every day is the same yet every day is different, I reckon,” she replied, her soft voice mirroring the expression on her face. “But the only thing that matters is that Alejandro is happy. If I can help make that happen, then I am happy.”

  There was a collective sigh of empathy from the audience.

  “Well, Viper,” the host said, a teasing tone in her voice. “It seems that you both are happy these days, especially after having been apart.”

  “Sí, sí,” he began, as he leaned forward in the seat. “It was hard to be separated so soon after our wedding, but being reunited makes it worthwhile.”

  “And, Amanda, I hear that you will be riding in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade this year. How do you feel about that?”

  Indeed, how did she feel? Amanda chewed on her lower lip and raised an eyebrow. “I . . . I’m not sure since I haven’t ever seen a parade,” she replied. “But I’m sure it will be fine. Alejandro explained that we ride on the back of a big truck, smile and wave to people, and then he sings a song at one stop. That seems pleasant enough, especially since the weat
her is supposed to be quite lovely, ja?”

  “Never seen a parade?” The host stared at the audience in amazement and they laughed. “Why, your first parade will be riding in the Macy’s parade? I don’t think too many people can claim that!”

  “Is it so special?” she asked innocently.

  The crowd roared, laughing at her question.

  Alejandro leaned over and said to her softly, but loud enough for the microphone to pick up his words, “It’s a fairly large parade, Princesa. It’s very special.”

  “Oh.”

  The host turned her attention back to Alejandro, asking him another question about his upcoming events in New York City. “I heard there was quite a crowd at the morning show today,” she said. “I also know that you tend to make a few surprise visits at clubs while in town. Any guest appearances at some local hot spots that you’d like to share with us, Viper?”

  He squirmed in the seat, in slight annoyance, an act that he had perfected when he wanted to look as if he was put under pressure by the interviewers. Amanda smiled to herself, amused by his reaction, as she knew it was only to make the interviewer feel as though she was about to get special information out of Viper that no one else had been able to extract.

  “I would be quite remiss if I did mention any special clubs where I might make an appearance,” he finally admitted.

  “The crowds, eh?”

  “Sí, the crowds.”

  “Amanda,” she said, turning her attention away from Alejandro. “How do you deal with all of these fans and the crowds that follow you?”

  Hesitating before answering, Amanda glanced at Alejandro first. When he nodded, she finally spoke. “Ja vell,” she began slowly. “It sure would be nice if they would leave my family in peace, especially with my daed trying to heal and all.” She lowered her eyes, hoping that what she was saying was a suitable reply. “Sure makes it hard for me, too, to return there to help with the farm.”

  “Creates problems in the community?”

  She nodded. “Oh ja! The bishop sure doesn’t care for the photographers stealing photos and asking so many questions.” She sighed, too aware that one of the cameras was focused on her face. “The things that people love about the Amish way of life seem to be the things that they are so intent on destroying in order to learn more about us.”

 

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