Disclaimer: I do not own Encanto. This story is not for profit.
Chapter 13
October 26th
Mirabel woke up the gray light filtering in through the church windows and the sound of rain. She grimaced as she sat up. Her hair was so tangled she couldn't fit her fingers through it. She had to search for a few moments to find her glasses and put them on. The rest of her family was similarly struggling to get up.
Isabela was up, but still in her nightgown. "Rain again." She sighed.
"It's called rainy season, not rainy day," Bruno said. He was attempting to stretch out a kink in his back.
"This humidity is murder on my hair." Isabela's hair was unusually wavy. She looked at Dolores with an expression of sympathy. "Not to mention poor Dolores."
Dolores squeaked, her hand flying to her curls. She ran out of the nave and into the room they were using to change in and out of their nightgowns, hugging her clothes for the day to her chest.
Isabela looked startled, then guilty. "Wait! I wasn't picking on you, I promise!" She ran after her cousin.
Mirabel groaned. "Drama first thing in the morning. My favorite." She followed them, dragging herself out of her blankets, gathering up her clothes to change into, and trying to remember if she'd brushed her teeth last night.
When she entered the impromptu changing room, Isabela was digging through a canvas bag. "What you need is the right product. And so do I."
Dolores stood in a corner, dressed, but her hair not tied back. She faced the corner like a trapped animal hiding its face.
"Here!" Isabela straightened. "Pomade. I'm sure they gave this to us for the men, but we need it at this point." She gestured. "Come here. I'll help you work the pomade into your hair." She glanced at Mirabel. "Will you get us a candle? The pomade needs to be warmed up to work." Her expression turned assessing. "And you could use some, too. After you can manage to get a comb through that."
Mirabel got dressed and retrieved a candle and a match. "Here. If you insist."
"I do." Isabela smiled. "It's the least I can do."
The next half hour was spent on hair care education and working enough pomade into their hair to resist the humidity and the rain's effects. Julieta and Pepa ended up coming in and helping, including braiding the girls' hair. Pepa then enlisted their help to braid her hair properly. At this point, Luisa came in, and they fussed over her hair too, although she was initially reluctant.
"You need to take care of yourself," Isabela said as they finished.
"But I'm not – I mean, thank you. It's very kind of you." Luisa hugged Isabela, their mother, and Mirabel.
Dolores finished her makeup and applied lip color to match the bandanna tying her hair back.
Mirabel hugged Luisa in return. "We love you. And Isabela's right."
"Yes," Julieta said, cupping Luisa's cheek. "You work too hard."
"I'm just trying to help out," Luisa said, seeming confused and a little afraid of all the attention. "Anyway, let's get going! The sooner we eat breakfast the sooner we can get to work."
Julieta's brow furrowed. "It's raining. No child of mine is going to work in the rain."
"I mean, think positive, it might clear up any minute now. And if it does, we can go to work." Luisa hustled out of the room.
"Mm," Dolores said, not quite a squeak.
"Do you know what that was all about?" Mirabel asked.
"I'd have to get Luisa's permission to tell you," Dolores said.
For an instant, Mirabel was taken aback and annoyed, but then she realized Dolores was exerting new boundaries over her previous status as the listener and trying to leave her reputation as a spy behind. "You're right."
Dolores looked surprised and then grateful at the lack of pushback.
"I'll try talking with her this afternoon," Julieta said. "She might relax enough to tell me if we talk while she's working. I hope the rain does stop. She seems to have her heart set on working on the house."
Mirabel hugged her. "Good idea, Mamá."
xxx
Her mother took her to Señora Navarro's house. Señor and Señora Navarro were the village medicine makers. They worked with Dr. Herrera. Some villagers had chronic illnesses that were actually better kept in check with the Navarro medicine. Julieta and the Navarro family often worked together during cold and flu season to keep the village comfortable. Señor and Señora Navarro had breakfast in their dining nook while Julieta and Mirabel used the kitchen.
Mirabel was glad for the coffee. It was colder today, like Bruno had predicted. She also discovered she loved Señora Navarro's fried plantains. "What was Isabela like before she got her Gift?"
"Why do you ask?" Her mother seemed startled.
"I guess I'm looking for some way to know who my sister really is," Mirabel admitted. "She's trying to be much nicer to me now, and I do feel like we're communicating better. But there's still this gap. I mean, I barely know her after all this time because of the wedge Abuela drove between us."
Julieta faltered. "I'm sure Madre didn't mean –"
Mirabel interrupted her mother, not wanting to get bogged down in an argument about what Abuela did or didn't mean. "All I can remember, as far back as I can go, is Isabela constantly giving everyone flowers."
Julieta nodded, shoulders slumping. She didn't comment on the interruption, apparently deciding either to let Mirabel's comment go or that Mirabel hadn't heard her.
"When she was really little, did she like flowers that much?" Mirabel asked.
"Actually, you'll never believe this, but Isabela was a total tomboy," Julieta said, laughing gently.
Mirabel stared. "A what?"
"She went through this phase, starting at two and half years old, when it was impossible to get a dress on her," Julieta continued. "I had to catch her and force her Gift ceremony dress onto her – with Pepa's help!" She laughed again. "Not even telling her that her Abuela wanted her to look pretty for the ceremony helped."
Mirabel's chin quivered, and she looked away for a moment, composing herself so that she didn't bite her mother's head off. She took a sip of coffee and a deep breath before meeting her mother's gaze. "Actually, that's really sad."
Julieta's smile faltered. "What?"
Mirabel resisted the urge to shrug her shoulders at the sudden tension. "Think about it. Isabela knew who she wanted to be, and you forced her to change that."
Tears filled Julieta's eyes. "I never thought of it that way." She wrung the cloth napkin in front of her. "I thought of it like Isabela growing out of a phase. After she received her Gift, she always seemed so happy to wear pretty dresses and learn how to be ladylike from Madre."
"She was pretending," Mirabel said. She felt a crushing amount of pain and empathy for 5-year-old Isabela. Imagining her sister kicking and screaming, trying to escape being turned into someone else as the adults in the family looked on and laughed, was vividly real and terrifying. "And because everyone seemed like they wanted her to keep pretending, that's what she did. Because she loves you. And she became someone really mean, Mamá. She's been a lot nicer to me lately, since the day she admitted to me that she'd been just pretending to be this other person who likes dresses and pretty flowers."
Julieta wiped her eyes with the napkin, crying. "I never thought about it before. Girls are supposed to like dressing up, they're supposed to like pretty flowers, so I just assumed she was grateful for her Gift and exciting to be growing up."
"Mamá, she likes her Gift, but only if she's allowed to grow things that aren't flowers, too," Mirabel said. "She discovered her Gift can grow anything. Being asked to do flowers over and over again is what turned her into such a mean person." Mirabel leaned forward and laid a hand over her mother's. "Like you making nothing but arepas all day because that's the most efficient way to heal us." She squeezed her mother's hand. "Make new recipes, Mamá. You're stifling yourself. I want to know who you are someday. Because I know you've never shown me."
Julieta broke down further, stood up, and hugged her daughter. "I don't know if I have every much to give."
Mirabel hugged her, feeling a wave of empathy and sadness. You didn't mess me up on purpose. You're a person who needs help herself. And you're trying. "But whatever there is to give, I want it, Mamá. I want the real you. I'm tired of this fake you that you give to everyone. Even though it's a very nice person, it's still fake, and I want my real Mamá – imperfections and all."
Julieta kissed the top of Mirabel's head and stroked Mirabel's hair. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'll try, but I know it will take me a long time to come out of my shell. I got so comfortable hiding behind my Gift that it might be years before even I know who I really am."
"We'll all help," Mirabel said. "I know Isabela will want to help – and Tio Bruno and Tia Pepa know you. Really know you. So they can help you remember. They met the real you." She patted her mother's back and then released her mom so she could sit back down.
Julieta let out a long sigh as she sat down and went back to eating breakfast.
"Now, tell me about Luisa," Mirabel said.
"You reminded me of Luisa as soon as you started walking and talking," Julieta said. She took a sip of coffee, her eyes faraway. "Luisa was always trying to help out – and there was no place in Casita she loved more than the kitchen." She snorted, her brow furrowing and a small, angry smirk briefly appearing on her lips. "Actually, what comes to mind is the day I got in trouble with Madre for allowing Luisa to make non-magical food. She called it a 'waste'." She rolled her eyes. "I tried to explain to her, but she was determined to talk over me until I quietly accepted her ruling that Luisa was, I quote, 'Not allowed to waste food'."
"That's terrible!" Mirabel was angry at Abuela all over again. I could strangle her! "Mamá, Luisa needs to be the one in the kitchen, not you. You can make things for emergencies, but not every day. I mean, if we get our miracle back. If we don't, there's no reason for you to cook ever again. You're trying to teach me how to cook, and I like it, but you just told me Luisa loves to cook – and that she's never allowed to. That's wrong."
Julieta's frown deepened. "You're right. That is wrong. If Luisa will let me make it up to her, I'll start pulling her into the food preparation every day. That way, by the time our house is finished and we have a gleaming new kitchen, Luisa will already know how to cook a few things."
"I think that's a great idea," Mirabel said, relieved her mother had listened to her. "And even if we get the miracle back, Luisa doesn't have to do things like move the bridge or move the church or collect the donkeys. For one thing, we need to just build another bridge. For another, Padre Agudelo needs to make up his mind. And a third thing! Antonio can just ask the donkeys to behave themselves if he gets his Gift back."
Julieta smiled and held up her hands. "You are right about all of that. Now eat your breakfast, it's growing cold."
Mirabel smirked. "I mean, it, though. Things are going to change around here, even if we get our magic back."
"I believe you," Julieta said. "And I truly believe that things will finally change for the better."
Mirabel glowed at the confidence her mother placed in her. She finally felt seen. "Thank you, Mamá."
"Te quiero mucho, mi increíble hija."
Mirabel smiled and swallowed against the lump in her throat. "Te quiero mucho."
xxx
It was still raining when everyone regrouped inside the nave of the church. Shortly after Mirabel and Julieta returned to the church to regroup with the rest of her family, people stopped by the church and dropped off extra warm weather clothes they had lying around so that the Madrigals didn't have to suffer in the increasingly chilly church.
Bruno was conspicuously absent. "Where's Tio Bruno?" Mirabel asked.
"Rain makes him sleepy," Pepa said. "And he doesn't usually sleep well, so…"
"He's found somewhere to take a nap," Julieta finished.
Pepa nodded.
Julieta squeezed Mirabel's arm gently. "Don't be discouraged, mi vida. I can tell that he loves spending time with you. Despite everything, it's wonderful how you two have bonded again."
Mirabel grinned. "Actually, this is perfect! Since he's not here, and we are, we can discuss his birthday party!"
"Birthday…party?" Julieta looked shocked.
"Isabela told me it used to be on November 7th," Mirabel said. "That means it was celebrated right after yours and Tia Pepa's!" Even though everyone knew Julieta, Pepa, and Bruno had been born at the same time, their birthdays had always been celebrated on different days to extend the festivities.
Camilo lit up at this topic. "Which means…three day party!" He let out a cheer.
"We've already discussed what we're going to make for him," Mirabel said. "So I want you to be thinking about what the decorations will be and what he'll want to eat, and which games he'll want to play." She hugged her mother. Then she said to her sisters and cousins, "OK, let's figure out who's doing which present. We can split up and start our projects."
Mirabel, Isabela, and Antonio ended up on team Rat Costumes. Camilo, Dolores, and Luisa became team Props. They parted ways outside the church. Mirabel's group headed for Señora Torres' home and Camilo's team headed for Señor Garcia's studio. He was the village artist, and the person who had painted the mural of the Madrigals.
At Señora Torres', Antonio helped them troubleshoot prototype designs for male and female costumes, and Mirabel sewed mock-ups out of cheap fabric so that they all had something to examine and critique. Once they had little costumes in their hands, they brainstormed problems and solutions, and Mirabel made different mock-ups until they were satisfied. This took all afternoon.
Antonio sat at the crafting table with his chin in his hand, pouting. "It's time for dinner already?"
"We'll put in more work on the costumes tomorrow," Mirabel said. "Making clothes takes a long time, especially without a premade pattern. But we'll get it done – even if we have to make excuses to sneak away and come here." She hugged him.
"I think we've made great progress," Isabela said. "This is going to be so cool. Tio Bruno's going to love it – and the rats, too. You're making sure of that, Antonio."
Antonio beamed. "It's nice to do something together."
xxx
This evening the adults ate by themselves in one group and the grandchildren ate in a separate group. Mirabel suspected the adults were talking about things they didn't want overheard. There's certainly a lot to talk about. But she didn't mind the segregation tonight, because she had things she wanted to talk about with her sisters and cousins anyway.
"How did the prop-making go?" Mirabel asked. "I have the mock-ups for the rat costumes made. I just need to be able to do a fitting somehow once I make the samples."
"We've got all the backdrops cut out, but they need to be sanded, painted, and sealed," Camilo said. "Luisa turned out to be really good at cutting out little shapes. Her hands are so steady. Mine shake."
"Mine too," Dolores murmured.
Luisa smiled self-consciously. "It's no big deal."
"Even if we get the miracle back, everyone needs hobbies," Mirabel said, eating a forkful of roasted pork.
"What's a hobby?" Antonio asked.
"A hobby is something to do that you like that isn't work," Mirabel explained. Doesn't that question just say everything about this family?
"Like playing?" Antonio asked.
Mirabel half-smiled. "Kind of. It's like…like Camilo's painting. Or my sewing."
"So it's something you have to be good at?" Antonio asked.
"Not exactly. I wasn't very good at sewing when I started. It's a coincidence that I got to be good at it. It's more something you do whenever you can that doesn't have a reason except that it makes you happy," Mirabel said.
Antonio looked like he was trying to think of something that fit her description.
"I'd like to try pottery," Isabela said. "I think it would be fun to get my hands dirty, to sculpt something, or shape something on a potter's wheel, and know I made something with my bare hands." She smirked. "And if Abuela objects, I can say I'm making pots for my plants, and therefore it's useful."
"You shouldn't have to make up excuses to do what you want," Mirabel said.
Isabela shrugged one shoulder. "But we all know what's going to happen if we all start picking up hobbies. Abuela is going to ask how it's useful. It has to increase our reputation, show off our power, or be useful to the family or the village. That's just the way it is."
"But it shouldn't be," Mirabel said. "We should be allowed to have lives outside our roles to other people. We should have our own lives sometimes."
"Sometimes, I don't want to do anything at all," Luisa said, shamefaced.
"That should be allowed, too," Mirabel said.
"But you just said –"
"I didn't mean that we had to give up our free time," Mirabel said. She adjusted her glasses. "OK, so that's true, there are two things we need: hobbies and free time. Free time is time to do nothing."
"I'll probably just go back to herding donkeys all day," Luisa sighed. "It's no big deal."
"You're always taking care of the donkeys," Antonio said. "If I got my Gift back, I'd tell the donkeys to take care of you sometimes. They owe it to you."
Mirabel smiled at that image. "That's a great idea."
Antonio finished his dinner and rolled onto his stomach, lounging with his chin cradled in his hands. "If you got to pick a Gift, what would it be?"
"I'm not sure," Mirabel said, her chest tightening.
"I bet things will be different this time around," Antonio said.
Mirabel smiled sadly. "That'd be nice." She thought about Antonio's question. "I would want a Gift like Abuela's – a Gift that helps keep everybody safe. Except I would want to use it more wisely."
"If I got my Gift again, I wouldn't spend so much time as somebody else," Camilo said. "Or maybe I'd use it to put on plays or something. But I'll tell you what I won't do: be everybody else just because I can. That's stupid."
Antonio gave his brother a look of confusion. "You're never not you. You just look like other people sometimes."
Camilo looked surprised. Then he hugged Antonio tightly. "Thanks. I really needed to hear that."
Antonio smiled. "I'll remind you. If we get our Gifts back, and you start to forget."
Mirabel smiled at that, feeling a glimmer of pride in her little cousin. Sometimes she felt a warm feeling toward Antonio she didn't recognize. But she did know that she would tear apart anyone who hurt Antonio with her bare hands. And she felt that feeling now, immense, warm, and special.
When they bedded down for the night, they arranged themselves in a tight group and talked about Bruno's birthday party in careful whispers.
Dolores lay on her side with her head propped up with one hand. "He loves tres leches cake."
Isabela had been sitting up, but now flopped down on her back to get comfortable for the night. "And his favorite dish is lechona tolimense."
Mirabel carefully tucked her glasses under her pillow and lay down. "Then that's what we'll make sure he has."
"We should make sure the rats have party food, too," Antonio said.
Camilo grinned. "That's a great idea. We'll ask Tio what his rats' favorite foods are. He won't suspect it's because of his birthday."
"And somehow we've got to get permission to borrow a rat for the day so that we can make sure the clothes work," Antonio said.
"I bet Tio would let you, Antonio, if you asked him really nicely," Mirabel suggested. "He knows how much you love animals. He would know you'd keep his rat safe."
Antonio brightened. "OK!"
Mirabel closed her eyes, smiling, and evened out her breaths. "It's a plan."
