by Sarah Price
With the soft lighting and the gentle music in the background, Amanda found herself relaxing. Without crowds, without photographers, and without adoring fans screaming for his attention, she felt as though they were a normal couple out for an evening together.
Normal, she thought with an inward laugh. How could any of this be considered “normal”? she wondered.
“Why are you laughing?” he asked, his blue eyes drinking in her amusement.
“Was I?”
He gestured toward the waiter. “Champagne, sí?” He didn’t wait for a response as he turned back to Amanda. “Sí, you were laughing, Princesa. I wonder about what?” He looked at her, his eyes sparkling.
“Life, I reckon,” she replied. How could she explain to him what she was truly feeling? Leaning forward, she lowered her voice. “Don’t you ever look back on where you came from, Alejandro, and just shake your head in disbelief?”
“Ah,” he replied and leaned back in the booth where they were seated. “I see.”
“You do?”
“Sí, sí,” he said, nodding his head. “The streets of Miami were tough, Amanda. And I look back on where I came from, often in amazement.” He glanced around the room. “My mother always said that whoever made me over had their hands full!” He laughed as he remembered. “I’m glad you never met me then, Amanda. You would not have liked me.”
“No?” She tried not to think about it, worried that he might be correct. It was a shocking thought that Alejandro could ever have been anything less than the gentleman who sat before her, the man who doted on her and made her feel as though the world stopped when he walked through the door.
“How did I manage to escape from being a foulmouthed little hoodlum and become this? From my mother working two to three jobs just so we’d have food on the table to my being able to enjoy this?” He gestured at the room and looked back at her. “To have you?”
“I was thinking more about the life, Alejandro,” she corrected him gently.
“The life? Sí, it is different today from how it was so many years ago,” he confessed. “But it was hard work and a lot of mistakes that turned me into a man, no?”
For a brief moment, she wondered about those “mistakes.” Was he including the women he had loved physically but not emotionally? Did he ever think about his daughter, who he never saw? She had never asked him about that, worried that it would bring up bad memories for him. Besides, she had told herself whenever she remembered that he had fathered a child with an unknown woman so many years ago, it was an act that was committed by a different man from the one who sat before her now.
It was just after ten o’clock when the SUV pulled up in front of the Langham Place, the hotel on Fifth Avenue where Justin Bell was having a small gathering prior to the following morning’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. However, from the looks of the suite, the festivities were only just beginning.
Amanda hung behind Alejandro, not recognizing anyone who greeted them. Music was playing while the guests were drinking and laughing. It was almost too loud to hear what anyone was saying, but by listening carefully, Amanda could make out the introductions as Alejandro made them.
She had been there a short while before she saw Celinda emerge from a back room. Immediately, Amanda smiled and felt a sense of relief wash over her. She moved away from Alejandro and made her way over to the sole person she recognized.
“Amanda!”
Celinda greeted her with a warm hug and a kiss on both of her cheeks. “I heard you might be stopping in,” she gushed. “I’m so glad to see you!”
“And I you,” Amanda said, genuinely meaning her words.
“How is your father?” Celinda asked, a caring look in her dark eyes. The fact that she had even asked about her daed touched Amanda. Few other people had been so thoughtful. “I heard he was unwell.”
“Ja, ja,” Amanda admitted, nodding her head. “I was home recently, and he had just returned from the hospital. My sister and her husband have come for the holiday to visit.” She glanced over her shoulder at Alejandro, seeing that he was standing amid several men and women talking. “I was glad to be able to see Alejandro,” she added. One of the women, darker-skinned with long black hair and wearing a short red dress that accentuated her long legs, placed her arm on Alejandro’s, and he laughed at whatever was said.
Celinda followed Amanda’s gaze and smiled. “Don’t pay any attention to that,” she said, lowering her voice. “That means nothing.”
“Nothing?” Amanda frowned. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“She’s a hanger-on,” Celinda explained. “Part of the regular entourage for Justin in New York City.”
Entourage? Hanger-on? Amanda wanted to ask what Celinda meant but didn’t have the courage. She was afraid that she would appear too unknowledgeable, just one more reason to feel insecure in this world of Alejandro’s. However, Celinda seemed to notice the confused look on Amanda’s face.
“That woman is part of a group of people that likes to hang out with celebrities,” Celinda explained patiently. “Sometimes the paparazzi will take photos of them with Justin or others, speculating that he’s dating her.”
Amanda gasped. “That’s terrible!”
This time, Celinda laughed. “Not really. Some of them are paid to pander to the media, to drum up interest in the celebrities. In fact, our publicists want us to break up for the holidays.”
“Break up?”
Celinda raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Sells more records for him if he’s single before Christmas. Of course, when it comes time to ring in the New Year, we’ll be officially back together again.”
“I don’t understand,” Amanda said, shaking her head. “That’s lying, isn’t it?”
“Not really,” Celinda replied. “It’s more like marketing. Gives the fans what they want . . . that dream.” She placed her hand on Amanda’s arm and smiled. “Don’t be alarmed. Much of what you read in the media is made up. If it hasn’t happened yet, it will one day. Don’t trust what they say.”
She wanted to ask more questions, but she was still in shock over what Celinda had confided in her. During her courtship with Alejandro, she had known that he often orchestrated opportunities for the media to take photos or learn of information in a manner in which he would maintain control over the situation. But she had never suspected that entire relationships could be orchestrated just to gain media attention and boost the image of stars.
She kept her eyes on Alejandro, watching him. Indeed, now that she looked closer, she could tell that he was acting. He wasn’t being his true self, not even in this crowd of supposed friends. His smile was electric, as usual, but the sparkle was gone from his eyes. Only when he looked around for her and caught her gaze did she recognize the light that she had grown to love in his expression.
He was always on, she realized. There was very little downtime for Alejandro. His life was a continuous string of events in which he had to constantly remain in the spotlight. No wonder he had wanted to spend the afternoon together, alone in the hotel room with his arms wrapped around her. He had made love to her in the quiet of the room and then held her, his breath slow and shallow as he rested. She hadn’t been certain if he had actually slept, but she knew that he was at peace and relaxed, as she pressed her bare back against his chest. Yes, he had been at peace and relaxed, if only just for the moment. After all, she was his safe zone, the one person who was there for him with no expectations or demands beyond the need for his love.
Excusing herself from Celinda’s side, Amanda made her way through the crowd and stood beside him. She rested her hand on his arm and smiled when he looked at her. “Mayhaps it’s soon time, no?” she said softly. “It’s a long day tomorrow.”
He hid his smile and pursed his lips, amused at her forwardness in requesting to leave. With a raised eyebrow, he nodded his head. “And I have a surprise for you,” he admitted. “So, sí, we should be going, Princesa.” He took a final drink from his glass bef
ore setting it on the tray of a passing waiter. “Vamos, mi amor,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and tenderly escorting her away from the crowds and toward the front door.
Chapter Thirteen
It was a cold morning in New York City. Alejandro made a fuss over Amanda, buttoning her coat and tightening the beige cashmere scarf around her neck. With a proud smile, he tilted the matching hat on her head and leaned down to kiss her cheek. Despite not having returned to the hotel until after midnight, Alejandro looked fresh and well rested, something that Amanda did not feel.
“¿Listo, Princesa?”
She lifted up the steaming cup of coffee that was in her hands, indicating that, indeed, she was ready. Even if she didn’t feel ready, she wasn’t about to admit that to him. It amazed her how he had that endless energy, rising early and ready to face the day, despite the fact that the nights could be equally as long. Of course, midnight was early for Alejandro. For her, however, it had been a late evening.
Even though they were not scheduled to depart the staging area until half past ten, Alejandro had insisted that they wake early to see the balloons dangling from cables as they waited for the start of the parade.
He hadn’t told her this. Instead, she had felt his hand tracing an imaginary line along her shoulder and down her arm. When she felt his lips kiss her skin, she had smiled to herself and rolled over, nestling into his arms. He was warm and already showered, his skin smelling of that fresh scent of soap and cologne.
“What time is it?” she had asked sleepily.
“Time to arise, Princesa,” he had murmured into her ear. “I have another surprise for you.”
Within forty minutes, he had led her out of the hotel and to the awaiting car. A man stood ready with two cups of steaming coffee in travel mugs, which he handed to them once they were situated in the car.
“Drink up,” Alejandro had coaxed. “You will need caffeine for today.”
Obediently, and also because she was cold, she took a deep swallow from the mug, pausing briefly to wave her hand in front of her mouth. “Ooo, hot.”
He laughed at her reaction, placing his hand on her knee as he leaned forward, saying something in Spanish to the driver. Within minutes, the car was navigating the morning traffic and closed streets, taking them as close to the staging area as possible. When the streets became impassible, Alejandro opened the door of the car and helped Amanda get out.
Quickly, he took her hand and began hurrying through the streets. She was surprised that there was no one else with them. It was one of the very few times she could remember when he did not have security people accompanying him. While people were already sitting on the sidewalks, wrapped in blankets, no one paid much attention to the couple as they approached one of the security check-in areas. Alejandro reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope, which he promptly handed to the security guard. Within seconds, they were permitted entrance to the closed section of Seventy-Ninth Street, where, just beyond it, the helium-filled balloons and floats awaited their turn to join the parade route.
Amanda stared in amazement, her mouth hanging open as she followed Alejandro. The balloons that floated overhead were larger than anything she would have ever imagined. Cats, dogs, clowns, colorful characters that she had never seen before lingered over her head and between the large buildings near the parade route. Each balloon had dozens of lines hanging from it, each being held by a handler. Farther down the way, several balloons were still being held under thick netting, waiting their turn to be unleashed and readied for the parade.
Several handlers recognized Alejandro and Amanda, calling out “Viper!” to which he grinned and waved.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” he shouted back to their cries and cheers.
Just beyond the balloons were marching bands, dozens of young adults standing with their instruments in the lineup area, some stomping their feet to stay warm while others chatted with one another.
“They’ve been practicing since three this morning,” Alejandro said into her ear.
“So early?”
He nodded as he led her farther down the street, his hand clutching hers tightly as they maneuvered through the people lining up.
As the sun rose overhead, the early-morning chill disappeared, and Amanda forgot how cold she had felt earlier. Instead, she stared at the people and the floats, the handlers and the balloons. It was something she had never seen before and doubted she’d see ever again.
“All of this for Thanksgiving?” she asked Alejandro.
“Sí, Thanksgiving.”
She frowned, gesturing toward the streets lined with balloons and floats and people. “But what has this to do with Thanksgiving?”
He laughed and wrapped his arm around her neck, pulling her close and kissing the side of her head. “Ay, Amanda,” he breathed. “How refreshingly honest you are!”
She wanted to say that there was nothing honest about what she had asked. It was clear that being thankful for God’s love had nothing to do with larger-than-life balloons or oversized floats or bands that played far too loud for her taste. But his joy was too overwhelming, and she was just happy to be with her husband. Having been apart for too many weeks, she was especially thankful to be beside him on this first holiday celebrated together in their marriage.
“Viper!”
They both turned around at the calling of his name. A trio, all dressed in black with microphones and clipboards in their hands, was approaching. As they began to address him in Spanish, pointing farther down the road at a large float, Amanda looked away, taking in the excitement and energy that packed the street.
She had truly never seen anything like it before in her life. So many people and so much activity! Despite the perception of chaos and the noise that issued from the instruments warming up and the people cheering along the street, there was something familiar about it. An organization that could only come from years of practice. It reminded her of the organized chaos that often ensued after the worship services back at home.
“We have to go to the staging area,” Alejandro said, motioning toward a white golf cart that had just pulled up behind them. He gestured for her to step into the backseat, and once she was settled, he sat beside her.
A very different Thanksgiving indeed, she thought as she turned her attention to watching the floats and bands that they passed as the driver sped through the crowd to take them to the staging area. When the golf cart stopped, Alejandro was quick to help her off, then thanked the driver with a quick handshake.
“Viper,” someone else called out. Within seconds, the man was leading them through the throngs of people lining up as they waited to join the parade that started on Seventy-Seventh Street. They stopped walking near Central Park West and stood before a monstrous float that resembled something Amanda had seen only once as a child in a fairy-tale book, at a doctor’s office.
The man was saying something to Alejandro that she couldn’t hear, but she saw him point out a section of the float: a platform that was at least fifteen feet higher than the rest of the decorated vehicle and looked like a giant gray castle. There was flooring around the castle on all sides for people to dance and wave to the crowd.
“¿Listo, Princesa?” he asked as he turned to her. “They want us to climb up now as this unit will start moving out shortly.”
Without waiting for her response, he reached for her hand and helped her climb the small ladder to the first platform. He quickly followed behind her, then led her through the castle doorway. Inside, it was dark and she could barely see. Alejandro waited for someone to flip on a flashlight and direct their attention toward a narrow metal staircase that led to the top of the castle.
After eight or so steps up, Amanda emerged atop the castle tower, amazed that she was staring down at the street below her. Around the top of the castle, there was a wooden railing with gold fabric hanging from it. She walked to it and leaned over, amazed at how high up they truly were.
“Is this safe?” she whispered to Alejandro.
He laughed at her. “You’re fine,” he teased. “No fretting. I want you to enjoy this day. It’s not everyone who gets to ride in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “In fact, I would wager that you are the first Amish woman who ever did!”
She frowned, not wanting to point out that she wasn’t truly Amish anymore. It would do no good to bring that up, she figured.
It was almost twenty minutes later when the line of parade floats, balloons, and bands began to move. At first it was slow and Alejandro leaned against the railing, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Amanda. His eyes seemed to sparkle, and when she realized that she was the object of his attention, she turned toward him and, through lowered eyes, met his gaze.
“What is it, Alejandro?” she asked softly.
“You are so beautiful, Amanda,” he answered, reaching out for her hand. “And I am so honored to have you standing beside me.”
She felt his arms wrap around her as he embraced her. For a moment, the buildings and the noise disappeared and it was as if the two of them were standing alone, on top of the fake castle that slowly moved down the street. She was oblivious to everything except the power of the man who held her, the warmth from his body keeping away the chill in the air.
And she was happy.
Where was I last year? she asked herself, knowing full well what the answer was: with her parents and her sister, trying to cope with yet another year without Aaron. It had been just one more holiday of sorrow and disappointment. It had been hard for the family to praise God for their blessings when each of them still felt the loss of a life that had been taken far too suddenly for any of them to comprehend.
Faith only goes so far, Amanda had often told herself during those difficult times. She had never voiced those words out loud. Her parents would have scolded her for thinking such a thought.
It was almost twenty minutes after nine when their float turned down the side street that joined with the main avenue. Immediately, Amanda caught her breath. Alejandro stood beside her, his arm wrapped around her waist as he watched her reaction. Indeed, she was stunned.