Disclaimer: I do not own Encanto. This story is not for profit.


Chapter 14

October 26th

Mirabel woke up well rested, got ready for the day with the rest of her family, this time, for once, eating breakfast with Bruno. They both had calentado, or leftovers mixed up with eggs and chorizo, at Señor José Cardona's, one of the donkey farmers. She didn't miss that Señor Cardona didn't say much, but he also wasn't one of the people who had complained about Bruno's visions.

"With the first floor almost done, we're going to have to talk about bedrooms soon," Mirabel said, breaking the silence. She sipped her hot chocolate.

"No sand," Bruno said.

Mirabel giggled. "Right. And no stairs?"

"No stairs," Bruno agreed fervently. A rat poked out of his sleeve and squeaked. The timing made it seem as if the rat were trying to join the conversation.

"That certainly seems safer. What would you want?"

Bruno took a deep breath and exhaled. "Someplace relaxing. Someplace quiet."

This made the eighth day in a row that Mirabel couldn't see any pictures in her head when people talked to her. She listened, and she nodded, and she tried to imagine what her uncle's room would look like, and the daydream never came.

At first, Mirabel had thought it was the stress, but with her family trying to genuinely bond for the first time and Abuela resisting the urge to nitpick and criticize and control – at least for now – she didn't feel stressed. Thanks to a good night's sleep and excitement over Bruno's birthday party, she felt great.

And she was still image-less. Usually, she experienced nothing but flickers of daydreams unless someone really opened up about something important, and when she was pretty sure people were lying to her, she imagined nothing at all. Her parents had always praised her creativity, ever since she tried to explain one of her vivid daydreams to them. She didn't feel like she'd lost her creativity. Her ability to make prototypes of rat clothes showed that it was still there.

Throughout breakfast, regrouping, and heading out for the building site with her family, Mirabel tried and failed to see the pictures in her head that corresponded to the conversation. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. I'm not having a problem. I haven't lost anything. It's just a…a block. Like writer's block. Except for thinking. Yeah. The anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach called her a liar. There was a special, warm feeling to her daydreams, and she was going crazy not being able to have them. When she did things like use her imagination to come up with rat clothes, the feeling was different.

When the Madrigals arrived and prepared to split up, Julieta took Luisa's hand gently, stopping her daughter from joining the workers doing the outer stonework for the first floor. "Mi vida, would you like to help me cook today?"

Luisa's lower lip quivered, and she glanced around quickly, shoulders hunched. "Are you sure Abuela won't mind?"

Julieta looked crushed. "I am so sorry that I let Madre scare you out of learning to cook. I should have protected you. I should have kept you by my side and taught you everything I know. You should already be happily cooking whatever you want by now."

"Mamá, you're perfect," Luisa said, crying now. "You're the most perfect Mamá in the whole world. You never yell, you never say anything unkind, you're always here for us…How could I blame you?"

Julieta flinched. "No. I am not perfect. I cannot accept that. I've tried to sweep the pain of this family under the floor by feeding everyone. I tried to heal damage of the heart with food meant for the body. And instead of admitting it wasn't working, I made you, and Isabela, and Mirabel, carry the burden of the worry I couldn't or wouldn't acknowledge."

"Mamá, I…I've been terrified," Luisa confessed. "I knew something was coming for us, something would happen to us, and I knew it wasn't something I could fight or lift or break."

Julieta turned to her and hugged her gently. "You were right. I'm so sorry. I've taught you – we've all taught you – that there's nothing you can't do, and in the process, we've all relied upon you too much. You do have limits, mi vida, and that is normal, and right, and good. What came for us are our own broken hearts and our broken connections to each other. It is no wonder that the candle went out. It truly was only a matter of time."

"I wish it was different," Luisa said.

"Me, too," Julieta said softly. She caressed Luisa's cheek. "But we can make it different together. If you'll let me."

"Of course I will!" Luisa bear-hugged her mother, even lifting her mother off her feet briefly. She clung. "Te quiero mucho, Mamá."

Julieta sobbed and clung to Luisa in return. "Te quiero mucho, mi valiente hija."

Mirabel was incredibly relieved. She smiled at Isabela, who stood next to her. Isabela grinned in return and pumped her fist victoriously, mouthing, 'Yes!'

They all cooked for the workers together, and it was the happiest Luisa had ever been. She melted into the tasks of making arepas, rice, beans, stew, each food preparation seemingly a source of wonder for her. Mirabel half-expected Luisa to start singing. It was one of the most beautiful things Mirabel had ever seen. Luisa sparkled.

When they dished up the workers at lunchtime, Luisa seemed to get a special joy from it. She explained to every family member which things she had made herself and all that she had learned about chopping, slicing, dicing, and cooking temperatures, and how to tell when an arepa was done, and everything else. It was the most Mirabel had ever witnessed Luisa talk. And here I always thought you were the stoic, silent type. You aren't naturally silent. You were just being crushed. She remembered her daydream of Luisa soaring through the clouds when Luisa had confided that she wished she could shake the weight of all the expectations on her and have time for joy and relaxation. Well, this isn't relaxation, but I guess this is the joy part.

Mirabel took one of Luisa's arepas and bit into it with satisfaction, swallowing. "Delicious," she told her sister honestly.

Luisa beamed.

xxx

That evening, under the stars, there was music and a public dinner in the plaza again. Someone brought out sparklers, and the small children ran around with them, laughing, Antonio included.

Mirabel smiled from her place at the two combined tables full of the teenaged and adult Madrigals. It did her a lot of good to see Antonio running around with and playing with other children his age. This village is a good village, full of loving people. She glanced at Bruno. How do I get them to love Tio Bruno? How do I make them understand? Then she realized she was trying to fix everything again and sighed, subsiding.

Abuela called the dinner meeting to order, causing Antonio to hand off his sparkler and scurry to his seat. "Good evening, everyone. I am well pleased with how the construction of our new home is coming along, and I know everyone is working hard toward the same goal."

Mirabel stared at her. I wonder if anything I said to you stuck.

"Tonight, let's do something different," Abuela said. "Instead of me doing all the talking, why won't we use this time to check in with one another? I will call on everyone in turn."

Mirabel held in a groan. So she's going to interrogate everyone in front of everyone else and probably embarrass us all. She ground her teeth a little, but she resigned herself to her grandmother's interpretation of the ultimatum about changing the way conversations went around here. It's a start? Maybe?

Abuela smiled and inclined her head at Pepa. As usual, Pepa's branch of the family sat on Abuela's left and Julieta's on the right. Bruno sat at the foot of the table directly across from Abuela. "Pepa. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mamá." Pepa ate some braised pork and rice, seeming disinclined to elaborate.

Uncomfortable silence descended on the table, as if everyone was waiting on Abuela to grade Pepa, marking her answer either correct or incorrect.

Abuela moved on, her smile unwavering. "Félix, my yerno. How are you?"

Félix grinned. "Oh, you know. I can't wait to party inside our new casa. The work is hard, but it's worth it, eh?" He did a dance move with his shoulders only. "You know you can't wait to go dancing with me again."

Augustin, Pepa, and Julieta grinned, Camilo rolled his eyes, and Antonio giggled. Abuela looked taken aback and amused.

Abuela locked gazes with Dolores, who looked incredibly nervous. "Dolores –"

"Nothing to report." Dolores stuck some rice and beans in her mouth quickly.

Abuela's shoulders slumped, and her smile was replaced by a slightly furrowed brow. "I understand that, but how are you?"

Camilo spoke for her. "She's worried the villagers will still hate her, no matter what you tell them about her. Like Bruno." He gestured to Bruno with a jerk of his thumb and pinned Abuela with a frown. "You didn't save him from getting beaten up, bullied, and rejected. How are you supposed to help my sister?"

Dolores gasped.

Pepa scowled and gestured at the sky with both hands. "Ay, manners!"

"The boy's got a point, we need to talk about this," Félix said. "I want to know how you're going to do better for Dolita than you did for Bruno, too."

"I have spoken with everyone and assured them that Dolores is only a child, that it is my fault and not hers for not being clear enough that she is not to listen for anything except an emergency, and that Dolores has long since learned what her Gift is and is not to be used for," Abuela said.

"That makes it sound like you are admitting that my daughter is at fault," Félix said.

"I don't think it means that at all," Agustín said, making a placating gesture.

"What happens the next time someone shoves my sister? Or knocks her to the ground?" Camilo asked. "What will you do then?"

"That person will be severely punished," Abuela said.

Camilo folded his arms. "They better be. Maybe the next building project in this town should be a jail."

"Don't say that, that will only make things worse," Julieta said.

"What about my sister?" Camilo demanded. "Shouldn't someone who hurts her be locked up? At least publicly punish them and humiliate them the way they keep humiliating her."

Julieta motioned with both hands for him to lower his voice. "All right. All right. We will discuss what to do if there is another occurrence. And by 'we,' I mean adults. Let us handle it, Camilo."

Camilo looked grumpy, but he didn't argue.

"Now that I know how both of you are feeling," Abuela said in a tone that allowed for no argument, "how are you, Antonio?"

"I miss my animals, but I'm excited for Tio Bruno's birthday," Antonio said.

Bruno looked paralyzed. He didn't even set down his fork. The look on his face reminded Mirabel of a donkey being cornered by Luisa.

Abuela, for some reason, had a similar reaction. But she relaxed first. "Yes, we must plan a birthday party marvelous enough to make up for ten years of missed parties."

"No, thanks," Bruno said quietly but clearly. His expression had changed to calm resolve. He ate a forkful of rice.

Now Pepa and Julieta froze and looked at each other, then at Abuela.

Abuela only shrugged. "We will discuss this later."

Mirabel wanted to groan and facepalm. Not this tactic again. Am I going to have to speak up and save Tio?

Antonio looked confused. "But everyone gets a birthday party."

"I'll accept a small one, but make a big deal out of it and I'm gone," Bruno said to Abuela.

"Whatever you are comfortable with, Brunito," Abuela said.

Mirabel frowned. Placating? Does this mean she'll respect his choices as far as limiting the size of the party, but then complain about it, or does this mean she'll go behind his back and arrange the huge party that she wants?

"Thank you." Bruno focused on his dinner. He ate slowly.

"How are you?" Abuela asked.

Bruno shrugged. "I'm still me."

Abuela let that slide and asked Julieta, "And how are you this evening?"

"I'm great, Mamá," Julieta said as if her enthusiasm could cover up Bruno's lackluster response to the same inquiry. She smiled. "I've had a wonderful day working with my family."

"And Agustín. How are you?" Abuela asked.

Agustín smiled ruefully and held out his swollen, bandaged right thumb. "Learning how to use a hammer without hitting myself. But I'm getting the hang of it. I don't think I'm a danger to myself or others anymore."

Abuela looked at him with an expression of pity. "That's…good." She turned a simpering smile on Isabela. "And how is my eldest grandchild?"

"I've decided I want to learn pottery," Isabela said with a toss of her hair. "I need to expand my horizons."

"An excellent idea," Abuela said.

Mirabel was pretty sure Isabela could get away with saying most things and having Abuela think it was 'an excellent idea'. Yup. You're still the favorite, all right.

"Luisa, how are you tonight?" Abuela asked.

Luisa straightened and pulled back her shoulders with a fake-confident smile. "I'm great. Why? Nothing's wrong. Luisa's great, the family's great, we're all great. I'm excited about the house. Yeah. It's all great." She went back to eating her dinner, but quicker than before, as if she could get out of talking by keeping her mouth full.

"I've started teaching Luisa how to cook," Julieta said.

Luisa coughed, choked, thumped her chest, and washed down the dislodged bite of food with a quick drink of water.

Agustín patted her back with open concern.

"That's wonderful," Abuela said in a warm tone. "I know how much you have wanted to learn, and I see now that I was foolish to forbid it."

Luisa's eyes filled with tears she struggled to blink away. "Thank you, Abuela."

Abuela shook her head. "Please don't thank me. I should apologize to you. I'm sorry. I was very narrow-minded."

Luisa bowed her head.

"And Luisa?"

Luisa raised her head. "Yes, Abuela?"

"You also need to be thinking about your future, mi vida."

Luisa straightened fully. "I am, Abuela. Really. I may not have super strength anymore, but Mamá is teaching me how to cook. And I really love it. I really do. So I can contribute to the family that way."

Abuela smiled gently. "That's nice, but I was really thinking about your prospects for marriage."

Luisa's face sagged with horror.

"What's the matter?" Abuela asked.

"Nothing." Luisa composed her face, but her right eye twitched. "It's just – I'm so busy all the time, I don't have time for a boyfriend." She grinned, but it was more like stretching her lips and showing her teeth. "I understand I've got to date sometime. Planning on it. Got it all under control." She gave Abuela a thumbs up. "Anyway, we've got to finish the house first. Can't invite a boyfriend over if there's no house."

"What about my daughter?" Félix asked.

Dolores gave a start and squeaked.

"I'm worried that her reputation will need a while to recover to the point that families consider her marriageable," Abuela said.

Dolores sagged and bowed her head. "I will wait, Abuela. That's wise."

Abuela turned her attention to Mirabel. "Now, Mirabel, how are you doing?"

"I'm thinking that even though this is really uncomfortable right now, because we're not used to talking about how our day went, this is ultimately a good thing," Mirabel said. "How else would you find out that Dolores and Camilo are worried, that Tio Bruno doesn't want a big party, that Isabela wants to study pottery, and Luisa is learning to cook? By not talking to each other, we miss so much."

Abuela seemed genuinely struck by that. Her chin quivered for a moment. "Yes." She inclined her head. "I can see that. I have, truly, missed so much. Mi familia, lo siento."