ANDI had been able to successfully distract herself from her heartache by volunteering at an orphanage some ninety minutes outside Nairobi. She almost felt homesick, only she missed a man, not a place. But admitting she was man-sick was not gonna happen. It was almost a foreign feeling for her, as she’d become accustomed to living quite unattached in every way. She wasn’t quite sure how to make sense of such a strange sensation.
Instead she tamped it down, pretending she was fine. And under the circumstances, among those surrounding her here whose lives had been a struggle since birth, this wasn’t a terribly hard challenge. Missing a guy with whom she’d had some serious window-steaming sex was nothing compared to children whose parents weren’t even alive to care for them. Perspective had a way of smacking away her blues.
She was happy to pitch in anywhere she was needed, and some days she would spend hours just soothing crying children who had arrived at the orphanage, often with only the fraying, filthy clothes on their backs. On other days, she scrubbed and cleaned the facilities until they sparkled, and others she played soccer in the field or helped the children with English lessons or weeded the meager garden or washed sheets. There wasn’t much free time for boohooing. Besides which, the heartbreak was of her own doing. It wasn’t as if Zander had dumped her. She was the one who put an end to their fledgling relationship.
Before she knew it, another male had inserted himself into her heart, a tiny boy named Josiah whom she guessed to be about nine years old and as sweet a child as she’d ever met. He was tiny, a result of malnourishment that had stunted his growth. But it did nothing to minimize his broad smile with white, evenly spaced teeth that shone bright against his beautiful, dark skin. For a child whom she’d been told had arrived with nothing to his name, he was always generous with his smile, which warmed Andi’s heart.
She sat one sunny afternoon beneath a sprawling baobab tree, Josiah at her side as she read aloud to him from a Harry Potter book. He’d become readily transfixed with the story, something so far removed from the life he knew that it must have been beyond fantastical to him.
“Harry Potter is a prince,” he said after she’d finished an exciting chapter.
“Not exactly,” Andi said, briefly thinking back to her very own prince whom she’d left behind. And the idea of the magic her prince could work on her made her heart race.
“I believe he is a prince of magic.”
“Huh,” Andi said, scratching her chin in thought. “I suppose you’re right about that.”
“I think he’s just like my prince,” Josiah said.
Andi laughed. “Oh really? You have your own prince?”
Josiah’s eyes widened. “Yes. He visits me and plays football with me.”
Andi knew football meant soccer. “Ahhh, I see. You have a mysterious prince who plays football with you. Tell me, who’s better at it, him or me?”
Josiah shrugged. “Miss Andi, I can’t tell a lie. He’s the best footballer I’ve played with.”
Andi nodded. “It’s true, I’m not exactly the best soccer player in the world. But we have fun, right?”
He nodded his head vigorously.
“Tell me more about your prince friend.”
“He helped to bring me here,” Josiah said. “I was in hospital and was very sick. My prince carried me from the hospital when he came to visit and saw me there.”
Andi knit her brow, wondering what the hell he meant by that. “You’re telling me some prince fellow came and took you out of the hospital and brought you here?”
He nodded some more. “Yes. He bought me clothes and books, and we’re best friends.”
“So have you seen this royal being since then?”
“Yes. He visits me and takes me into Nairobi. We see films and we go to dinner together. He’s found me a family. We’re just waiting for the paperwork to finish, and I will join them.”
Andi knew that indeed Josiah was in line to go to a family in a matter of days. It thrilled her he’d have a permanent home, though it saddened her she’d no longer see him as he was such a bright, charming boy.
“You are a very lucky young man to have a prince care for you in that way,” she said.
“He helps us all,” Josiah said. “He brings clothes and candy and toys and spends time with all the children.”
“Is his name Santa Claus?” Andi said, taking a swig of her water. This mysterious prince sounded too good to be true.
“No, no, no!” he said. “His name is Prince Alexander. But we call him Zander.”
Andi choked on her water, spitting it on her shirt. “I’m sorry. What did you just tell me?”
Just then, Elizabeth, one of the directors of the facility came by.
“Hey there! You okay? I see you had a hard time keeping your drink in your mouth,” she said, laughing and pointing to her wet top.
“Oh, Josiah and I were just reading about Harry Potter, and he told me he thought he was a prince, like his friend he calls Zander.” Andi raised a curious eyebrow.
Elizabeth waved a hand. Oh, yes, Zander. He has been a godsend to our orphanage,” she said. “Anytime I need anything, I just pick up the phone and it’s taken care of. Sometimes I don’t think he’s a prince so much as a miracle worker.”
“You’re talking about Prince Alexander, the one from Monaforte?”
“Yes,” she said, laughing. “You likely know him better as the one naked in the swimming pool in Vegas. Even in our somewhat remote outpost, we’ve heard of that. I suppose at times Zander can act out a little obtrusively, but I’ve yet to meet a man with a larger heart.”
Andrea furrowed her brows. “Okay, so just to be clear here. You’re talking about Zander? Not his older brother Adrian?”
She nodded. “Absolutely. It’s his Prince’s Trust charity that has virtually sustained us.”
Andi was in shock. It was Zander who was the one doing all the charitable deeds. Zander at the soup kitchens. Zander at the orphanage. Zander who apparently quietly and generously had given his time and his resources to help strangers in many countries.
“Wow,” was all she could say. “Wow.”