Plain Return (The Plain Fame Series Book 4) (19 page)

He covered her hand with his and pulled her into a warm embrace. He held her tightly, his one hand still over hers, and rocked her back and forth. “I love you, Amanda,” he whispered. “And I will learn to love Isadora. I trust that you will show me how.”

With her cheek pressed against his shoulder, she inhaled, trying to capture the scent of his cologne and the feeling of his warm flesh beneath his shirt. Two weeks would go quickly, she told herself. And when he returned, they’d have time to regroup and come together as a united front to tend to his daughter’s needs.

As she extracted herself from his embrace, she reached up and gently kissed his cheek. This pain of leaving was part of the responsibility that she had agreed to take on when Isadora was signed over to their care. Time would soothe that wound, and just as Alejandro said, she would teach him how to love his daughter. If she had already taught him the depth of his love, he now needed to learn its breadth. A lesson she felt certain he
could
learn, but one that she knew he was not likely capable of learning while he was on the road.

Chapter Seventeen

On Sunday afternoon, Alecia arrived at the condominium, her arms heavily laden with wrapped packages stuffed into bags. As she hugged both Amanda and the child in the foyer of the condo, she wept, appearing overwhelmed to be meeting her granddaughter for the first time.

Amanda waited until the jubilance and tears ended before she escorted Alecia into the sitting room off to the side of the kitchen. It felt odd being in Alejandro’s house without him. She chastised herself. Our house, she corrected herself. Still, as she sat on the white sofa by the sliding doors that led to the tiered patio and pool, Amanda did not feel that she was at home.

“Ay,
Amanda
.”
Alecia’s eyes drank in the sight of the five-year-old who sat quietly by Amanda’s side, a stuffed white unicorn under her arm. “
¡Qué linda!
She’s just beautiful,

?”

Like any proud Amish-raised parent, Amanda fought the urge to nod her head and agree. Vanity was a sin; she did not want to teach it to Isadora. Still, she couldn’t help but feel that Alecia was right. “She has been blessed by God, that is for sure and certain. But the life she has lived . . .” Amanda shook her head. “And to think that she’s so sweet of nature!”

“And Alejandro arranged this?”

Amanda didn’t miss the tone of disbelief in her mother-in-law’s voice. “He had a choice, Alecia,” she admitted slowly. “He chose the right option.”

“¡Gracias a
Dios
!”
Alecia clutched her hands together and lifted them to the ceiling.

During their visit, Amanda kept the attention on Isadora and away from any discussion about the tour or Alejandro. She didn’t mention their last twenty-four hours together or their argument at the arena and then later at the hotel. She didn’t tell Alecia that he hadn’t even accompanied them to the airport, instead sending them off in a car and barely saying good-bye. Amanda knew that this detachment was a self-defense mechanism intended to keep his emotions in check. Despite her frustration with him, she had sent a text message to him the moment that the plane landed in Miami. By the time the driver arrived at the condominium, it was well after two in the morning.

It had taken her almost an hour to get Isadora settled into one of the guest rooms. Although quite tired, Isadora didn’t want to sleep. Amanda had softly sung songs to the child and had rubbed her back until, finally, sheer exhaustion took over and sleep claimed her. Only then did Amanda leave the room, shutting the door before quietly walking down the hallway toward the master bedroom. She, too, quickly succumbed to her fatigue and fell asleep without having heard back from Alejandro.

When she awoke in the morning and checked her phone, he still had not answered. He was angry, she told herself, mad that she had left. He simply did not understand how painful it was for her to watch those women flinging themselves at him and to see how he responded—regardless of his “brand image”! Added to that was the stress of the travel and the work of caring for Isadora. No, she consoled herself, she’d had no choice but to leave, for the direction in which their relationship had been headed would have led to a much sadder outcome had she stayed.

“Gracias,
Amanda
.”
Five hours after her arrival, Alecia finally stood at the door, ready to leave. “When I met you, you told me that my son saved you.” She rested her hands on Amanda’s shoulders and gently rubbed her upper arms. “Truly,
hija
, it is you who saved him.”

Amanda lowered her head and blushed.

“All of his life, Alejandro was one who walked away from responsibility. But it was always his choice to do so, and no one could convince him to do otherwise,” Alecia said. “Now, for once, he has corrected a wrong, putting his responsibility before his career. You, Amanda, made this possible. You are a blessing to Alejandro.” She paused. “And to me.”

Long after Alecia left, Amanda thought about her words. While Isadora slept in her own room—a room already littered with more toys than Amanda had acquired in her lifetime, thanks to Alecia’s packages—Amanda curled up in the comfy armchair in the bedroom. She gazed out the window and stared at the moon’s reflection in the pool. She knew by the time display on her phone that Alejandro was already at the Meet and Greet before the Sunday concert. She also knew that he had still not replied to her text.

By Wednesday, having received no word from Alejandro, Amanda had made up her mind to return to Lancaster. What difference did it make, she had told herself, if she waited in Miami or at her parents’ farm? With the weekend approaching, Amanda knew that Alejandro would be busy traveling to three different countries in just as many days. There was no point in sitting around Miami, waiting, when she could take Isadora to her parents’ farm, where spring was dawning and her family would welcome them with open arms.

“Look, Isadora!”

Amanda pointed out the window as the hired car drove by a field with horses in it.

“¡Cavalos!”
There was a look of genuine joy on Isadora’s face.

“That’s right. Horses,” Amanda corrected her, saying the word slowly. “Can you say that, Izzie?” she asked, using the nickname she had given her stepdaughter. “Horses?”

After more coaxing, Isadora finally said the word in English.

It was their game, a private game that Isadora loved. She was an eager learner, and she shone under the attention that Amanda showered on her. And as much as Isadora was a willing and appreciative learner, Amanda was equally enthusiastic about her progress.

“Horses,” Isadora repeated, turning to press her nose against the window, her small hands resting on the car door. “Horses.”

Laughing, Amanda reached over and hugged Isadora. “Very
gut
!”

During their time in Miami, Isadora had picked up new words every day. Now, however, she seemed to understand something even more important: she was learning a new language. Amanda’s constant approval seemed to inspire Isadora even more. She was like a sponge, soaking up the words while feeding off Amanda’s praise. The more she learned, the more she wanted to learn. Every day she tried to expand her vocabulary by exploring the world around her, pointing to things and asking Amanda to teach her the words.

Now, as the car approached the farm, Amanda watched as Isadora morphed from a tiny caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly. As the scenery became more and more rural, Isadora became more and more excited. If Amanda had suspected that the tall buildings and urban environment of Miami had gotten in the way of Isadora adapting, now she knew that she had been correct. What the little girl needed was one-on-one time away from the city and back in the country: the place that was, undoubtedly, most familiar to her after the time she’d spent living with her grandparents.

Amanda’s sister and mother were waiting for them when the car pulled into the driveway. Amanda had told them what time they would be arriving in a letter posted just four days before. So seeing them waiting on the front porch, sitting on the bench with their coats wrapped tight around their bodies, made her feel that she was being welcomed back. She could hardly wait to share with them all that she had experienced over the past few weeks. Even more important, she couldn’t wait for Isadora to finally have the home life and nurturing environment she needed.

“Mamm! Anna!” Amanda called out to them as soon as she opened the car door. She stepped outside and reached down for Isadora’s hand. She wasn’t surprised when the little girl lunged into her arms and hid her face. Strangers, Amanda realized, felt dangerous to Isadora. The presence of strangers had often meant that she was leaving the people who she knew and cared for. “Don’t worry, Izzie,” she said softly, rubbing Isadora’s back. She hugged her tight and kissed her warm cheek. “This is home. Home.” She said the word slowly and made certain to give her an extra squeeze.

Carrying Isadora in her arms, Amanda walked as fast as she could toward the house. She felt different from the way she had the last time she had visited the farm with Alejandro. Perhaps his presence had made her feel different then, more removed from her family. Or perhaps it was the joy of introducing Isadora to her old life, one that was more comfortable and familiar to both of them, that made her feel different now. Regardless, she felt happy and giddy, excited to share all that she could with the little girl she held in her arms.

“It’s so
gut
to see you!” Amanda gushed, shifting Isadora in her arms before she hugged her mother and sister. “It’s been such a long few weeks.”

When she said that to them, Amanda experienced a moment of disbelief. Weeks? It felt like months to her. Still, any stress that she felt disappeared when she took a step backward and turned so that they could see Isadora.

“Oh help!” Lizzie said, smiling as she saw Isadora peek up at her with her sky-blue eyes. “What an angel!”

Anna reached out and touched Isadora’s arm. “Oh, Amanda. What an amazing gift God has given you.”

Amanda felt her cheeks flush as she clung to Isadora. “Izzie,” she said, enunciating each word. “My mother and sister.” Then, hoping that she was translating the words correctly, she said it even more slowly in Spanish, hoping that it was close enough to Portuguese.

Mi madre y mi hermana
.

“She doesn’t know any English, then?” Lizzie shook her head and clicked her tongue.


Nee
, nor Spanish.” Amanda caught the disapproving look that flashed in her mother’s eyes and knew exactly what her mother was thinking. She had always been too critical of the demands Alejandro made on Amanda’s life. Tending to a small child that didn’t speak English was just added to the list. “Mamm . . .”

“I didn’t say a word, Amanda,” Lizzie said defensively, holding up her hand as if warding off an attack.

“You thought it.”

“I’ll pray for forgiveness later.” Lizzie returned her attention to Isadora. “Now bring that precious child inside, Amanda. I have cookies made. Cookies will fill any child’s stomach, as well as warm her heart.”

Anna held the door open for Amanda as her eyes took in the small girl. “We want to hear everything, Amanda. What interesting stories you must have to tell.” As Amanda walked through the doorway, Anna lifted her hand and gently rubbed Isadora’s arm. “Especially your stories about Isadora!”

Once inside, Amanda paused and shut her eyes, inhaling the smell of freshly baked sugar cookies and bread. It smelled like home, and she smiled. “Mamm! That’s just a
wunderbar
gut
smell!”

“Don’t you bake in this Miami of yours?”

The disapproving tone in her mother’s voice was not lost on Amanda. How could she explain the ways that life in Miami differed from Lititz? Even more important, why should she have to? Choosing to ignore her mother’s question, Amanda set Isadora down on the bench at the table and immediately sat next to her. “I’m sure we can get quite a bit of baking done during our stay,” Amanda said, watching as Isadora looked around the room, her eyes filled with curiosity. “Izzie will love that, for sure and certain.”

“And how long exactly will that be, Amanda?” Her mother placed a plate of sugar cookies on the table and, with a gentle motion, pushed it toward the little girl. “Go on now,” Lizzie urged softly.

While Isadora reached out for a cookie and happily began munching on it, Amanda shared the details of how Alejandro’s daughter had come into her care. Both Lizzie and Anna listened intently, interrupting her only to shake their heads and comment about how the little girl had gone through so much already during her short life.

“I can hardly imagine a sadder story!” Anna exclaimed when Amanda had finished.

Lizzie remained silent.

Protectively, Amanda leaned over and put her arm around Isadora’s shoulders, sliding her body down the bench so that she was tucked tight against the girl’s side. “None of this is her fault,” Amanda said defensively. “She just needs time to adapt, that’s all.”

Anna smiled, reaching over to hand Isadora a second cookie. “
Ja vell
, it’s
gut
you brought her home, then. Some
wunderbar
food, chores, and God fixes everything!” When Isadora took the offering, Anna’s smile broadened. Her eyes never left the little girl’s face. “Oh, I think she’ll do right
gut
here, Schwester.”

Right away, Amanda felt at home. Yes, she definitely felt different returning home without Alejandro. But the difference, she realized, was the changes in her. Despite the fact that only a month had lapsed since her last visit, her experiences in South America had expanded her perspective on the world. And she realized that the outside world wasn’t anything like Lititz, Pennsylvania, a place for which she had suddenly gained a finer appreciation.

Despite their questions, however, she found herself reluctant to share her observations with her family. How could she explain the endless days and nights? The women? The tension that had so unexpectedly developed between Alejandro and her? Even if she knew how to explain it, she wasn’t sure if she’d want to, for fear that her observations might ruin their peaceful view of the world.

The one thing, however, that she found herself happy to discuss was the child sitting next to her on the bench. She’d neglected to mention the history between the deceased mother and Alejandro, choosing to relate only that they had taken on a child who’d been headed for an orphanage. And she certainly avoided any discussion about why she had left her husband thousands of miles away on a different continent.

While Anna might have accepted her explanation of the child’s origins, Amanda noticed her mother’s eyes suspiciously studying Isadora’s face.

Rather than dwelling on the truth of the child’s background, Amanda focused more on the time she had spent with Isadora. She didn’t need to say how much she loved her new daughter; that much was apparent just from the way she talked.

“Oh, and Alecia!” Amanda laughed. “She might be one tough cookie, but she sure did melt when she met Isadora.”

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