Plain Fame (23 page)

“Need you?”

He raised an eyebrow that peeked up from behind his sunglasses. “In case you get scared or lonely,” he responded.

And with that, he shut the door and she was left alone in the middle of the strange room in an even stranger city. Left alone to realize that she had stepped far outside of her world in what she feared was a rash decision. Perhaps she should have left her community for Ohio. Perhaps she should have just permitted the bishop to have her sent away. Perhaps she never should have left with Alejandro.

“What have I done?” she asked out loud, grateful that no one else but herself could hear the doubt in her voice.

The loud ring of the phone on the desk made her jump. She turned away from the mirror and stared at it, wondering who would possibly be calling her. Immediately, she realized that it had to be Alejandro. No one in her family knew where she was yet. In fact, she realized, she herself didn’t even know where she was.

She padded across the thick white carpet. It felt soft and warm under her bare feet. The floors at her parents’ farm were all made of hardwood with throw rugs scattered throughout, except in the kitchen, which was a cream-colored linoleum. None of their rooms had anything like the plush carpet that tickled her toes right now.

By the fourth ring, she reached for the phone and lifted the handset to her ear. For a moment, she hesitated. It felt strange to answer a phone in a room instead of visiting the phone shanty by the barn.
“Ja?”
she said into the receiver.

“You are up,
sí
?”

She smiled, feeling as if her heart fluttered, and she bit her lip, happy to hear the excitement in his voice. “Alejandro!”

He laughed. “Of course it is Alejandro, Princesa. Who else would call you this early? Who else knows where you are?” Still chuckling, he didn’t wait for a response. “Now, Amanda, I imagine you are hungry, no? So I want to take you to breakfast. There is a dining room downstairs with a lovely menu.”

Breakfast, she thought. In a hotel, with Alejandro. Now she felt the sensation of butterflies in her stomach. It was all innocent; she knew that. But it would certainly be something to cause raised eyebrows from the bishop and elders at home.

“I . . . I could eat something,
ja
,” she replied shyly. She had never had food at a restaurant with a man. Only courting couples did that. She felt nervous, knowing that just because it was courting in Lititz, did not mean that it was courting in Alejandro’s world. And he certainly wasn’t about to let her starve, so it was only natural that he would ask her to breakfast.

“
Bueno!
Then I shall knock at your door in just a few minutes to get you,” he said before bidding her good-bye.

She hung up the phone and stared at it. Communication is so much easier in the world of the Englische, she thought. With her family and friends, plans had to be made well in advance. Of course, she could use a neighbor’s telephone to make and receive phone calls, but the inconvenience of walking to another farm, leaving messages, and trying to connect with people made it easier to just make plans after church service or to visit in person using a horse and buggy. Now, in the world of the Englische, the telephone sat right there, on the desk, and Alejandro Diaz had just called her to invite her to breakfast.

The feeling of butterflies returned to her stomach as she moved away from the phone and chewed on her fingernail. Her eyes wandered back to the mirror, and she saw herself, standing before it. Indeed, she looked Amish in her blue dress held together with straight pins instead of zippers or buttons. Her dark hair was hidden beneath her white heart-shaped prayer
kapp
, the strings hanging over her shoulders. She shut her eyes and waited for the knock on the door, realizing that, for the first time in her life, she wished that she wasn’t plain.

About the Author

The Preiss family emigrated from Europe in 1705, settling in Pennsylvania as part of the area’s first wave of Mennonite families. Sarah Price has always respected and honored her ancestors through exploration and research about her family’s Anabaptist history and their religion. For over twenty-five years, she has been actively involved in an Amish community in Pennsylvania. The author of over thirty novels, Sarah is finally doing what she always wanted to do: write about the religion and culture that she loves so dearly. For more information, v
isit her blog at
www.sarahprice.com
.