Disclaimer: I do not own Encanto. This story is not for profit.
Chapter 19
October 29th
Last night's discussion seemed to have invigorated everyone. The Madrigals went to work on the house with renewed teamwork. Luisa and Mirabel, and Dolores cooked with the village women. Pepa, Félix , and Bruno consulted blueprints and work started on the second story of the house. Julieta, Camilo, and Isabela plastered walls. Antonio and the other children hammered in nails. Agustín was put on safety watch. He stood to one side and called out if he saw anything dangerous about to happen. He was an expert in danger because everything that could go wrong for him always did.
However, by three o'clock in the afternoon dark clouds rolled in and the wind picked up. The village and the Madrigals cooperated to cover up the building site and tie the tarps down securely to the pegs driven into the ground. Others tarps were weighed down with rocks.
Pepa winced as her braid slapped her face. "It's going to be a hurricane."
Mariano was at her elbow. "Take shelter with Mamá and me. The church will be lonely. And there will be no food. I know Mamá would want you with us."
Rain sprinkled them as everyone retreated to their homes. They stopped by the church before the rain and wind could hit any harder and gathered their belongings into knitted sacks. When they reached the Guzmán home, Abuela and Señora Guzmán were in the foyer ready to receive them. Señora Guzmán hugged her son. "Thank goodness." She ran her fingers through his hair.
Abuela didn't hug anyone, but she squeezed their hands or touched their shoulders like a mother duck counting her ducklings. "Yes, thank goodness you all had the sense come in out of this weather."
The wind gave a howl, spooking Mirabel. She'd never heard weather sound so angry, not even with Pepa raging. This is the real thing. Antonio hugged her leg, and she smiled at him nervously.
Dolores glanced at Mariano. "We are here thanks to Mariano. He invited us." She bowed her head.
Señora Guzmán beamed up at him. "That's my good boy. Thank you for bringing the Madrigals home as our guests."
Pepa stroked her hair nervously. "I wish I could control it. I could make the hurricane go away with a snap of my fingers."
Luisa groaned. "If I still had my Gift, I could lift the walls myself."
Bruno held up a hand. "Stop. Everybody stop. We are not going to rehash this idea of what if we still had our Gifts, and we definitely aren't going to do it while we're guests."
Several people looked at him with wide eyes.
"He's right," Señora Guzmán said. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You have protected this town for so long – watched it grow – helped us with everything we could ever ask for – and haven't ever asked for anything in return. Please." She laid a gentle hand on Abuela's arm. "This is our chance to say thank you."
She turned a smile on her son. "Mariano, will you set up the spare rooms for Julieta and Agustín, and Pepa and Félix ?"
"Yes, Mamá." He kissed her cheek. Then he turned to the couples in question. "Please, this way." He led them upstairs. "Julieta, Agustín, you will be in my uncle's room. Félix , Pepa, you're going to stay in the room that was for my brother, Alejandro."
Mirabel's brow furrowed. Alejandro? But Mariano's an only child.
Señora Guzmán led the grandchildren and Bruno into her living room. "I'm afraid the rest of you sleep here. But it can't be worse than the church."
"No, definitely not worse than the church," Isabela said. "And thank you. Thank you for your kindness and generosity."
"Yes, thank you," Bruno said. "I-I know that you – you might – have certain feelings about having me here, after – after, you know…" He trailed off.
Mirabel looked from her uncle to Señora Guzmán. "Since what?"
"That was a long time ago," Señora Guzmán said gently. "And grief has a way of making people blind. I know that you did not cause it. Please…stay. Don't let the past take you down dark roads. It is here and now, and I want you to accept the invitation to stay."
Bruno slumped into a nearby armchair. "Thank you," he whispered. He was asleep in minutes.
Mirabel gently rearranged the nearby footstool so that it was by the chair and even more gently lifted his legs by the ankles and propped his feet up on the footstool. Then she stood and looked back at the others.
Dolores' expression was typically unreadable. Isabela looked as if she knew what that exchange between Bruno and Señora Guzmán was about. Luisa just looked worried about their uncle. Camilo looked a little confused. Antonio walked up the chair where Bruno had dozed off.
"Let him sleep," Dolores murmured.
Antonio found a rat to cuddle and play with and came away from the chair.
xxx
Everyone gathered in the kitchen after having baths and changing into spare clothes except Antonio, who played in the living room with his rat friend after his bath and change of clothes, but quietly so that he didn't disturb Bruno's nap.
Mariano showed them that he was the cook of the household. He had everyone coordinated, chopping vegetables, chopping meat, washing rice. Mirabel glanced at the extremely silent Dolores and saw Dolores looking at Mariano with an unusually soft expression. Julieta made arepas on one side of the plancha while Mariano cooked chicken and vegetables on the other side. Pepa was in charge of the rice. The others washed dishes and helped set the table.
"It has been a long time since so many were in this kitchen preparing a meal together," Señora Guzmán said with a fond sigh. "It is so wonderful to have so much company."
"We are used to a full house," Dolores murmured. "It gets very lively. There is always something going on."
"Someday, my children will fill this house, and there will be songs and laughter again," Mariano said, smiling at his mother. "Don't you worry, Mamá. You will live to see la casa Guzmán bursting with happy people. And you will make a wonderful Abuela."
Dolores' expression melted for an instant, then snapped into wide-eyed stoicism. She turned away from Mariano and his mother as she set out the wine glasses.
Now I definitely know I'm not seeing things, Mirabel thought. She likes him. The truth hit her over the head. "The prophecy!" she whispered.
Dolores glanced at her sharply as if commanding her to mind her own business.
Mirabel glanced around, but everyone else had covered her. Even without a Gift, she still heard me. Oops. She set out the napkins. "But this means, it's a vision that never came true," she mused to herself. "I thought Tio Bruno's visions were always true."
Abuela walked into the living room and came back with Bruno and Antonio. Bruno looked stunned to see food ready and the table set. "I-I slept while everyone was working?" He looked at everyone quickly. "I had no idea. I promise. I thought I would close my eyes for a minute – a second! How long was I asleep for?"
Julieta took his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Now wash your hands and join us." She steered him to the pitcher of water and the bowl with the towel next to it. When he was done drying his hands, she guided him to the table, pulled his seat out for him, and pushed him in.
"Thanks, Casita," he teased.
Julieta gave him a look and sat down in her place.
Once everyone was settled, Señora Guzmán made the sign of the cross and everyone bowed their heads. "Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen." She made the sign of the cross again.
"Amen," everyone else murmured.
Immediately there were cries of, "Pass the salad," and, "Pass the cream," and, "That looks good!" as everyone dished up from the family style presentation of the dinner. The only person who was silent was Dolores. She communicated solely in squeaks and head nods.
Mariano glanced at her with an expression of curiosity.
When Dolores noticed, she averted her gaze, sitting up straighter, and unfolded her napkin onto her lap with excessive attention to detail.
Julieta watched Bruno with an expression of suffering. "You're not eating enough."
Bruno waved her off with his free hand, using his fork to bring a tiny bite of salad to his mouth with the other hand. "I'm savoring. Savoring."
Antonio apparently would rather feed his salad to Bruno's rats. He had eight of them, sitting on the arms of his chair, sitting on his shoulders, and two on the table. He was utterly absorbed and adoring.
"Antonio, stop feeding Bruno's rats off your plate," Félix scolded.
Antonio pouted. "But they're hungry, too. And they're Tio Bruno's friends."
Bruno made a clicking sound and called his rats back to him. They scurried across the table, although not over anyone's plates or cutlery, and scrambled under his ruana. "Shame on you," he said to the rats. "You shouldn't be causing a disturbance."
Señora Guzmán gave Julieta a genuine-seeming smile and changed the subject. "You always make the best arepas."
"Luisa is fast catching up to me," Julieta said, grinning at her middle child.
Luisa blushed.
"Is that right? Are you learning to cook?" Señora Guzmán asked Luisa.
She nodded, her shoulders pinching inwards self-consciously.
"I think that's wonderful!"
Luisa relaxed, blushing darker.
"It is an important reminder for everyone that we are still capable of doing good things," Abuela said. Her tone wasn't prideful or pious. "The Miracle was never meant to be a substitute for the innate abilities God has granted us. Abilities such as learning new skills and putting in hard work don't come from a candle. Those things come from our hearts." Her voice cracked slightly on the word 'hearts'.
Mirabel's smile was tight. She didn't want to cry or ask any questions she'd regret. Questions like, Why did you torture me for ten years, then? Or, If that's so important to you, then how come I got told every day to step aside? She had to breathe deep and tell herself, She's finally changing, this is good, she is finally changing, this is good…while being aware that this was her version of Pepa's 'clear skies' mantra. Mirabel's chest hurt.
"We have nothing to prove," Julieta said, although she sounded a little less certain and practiced than when she habitually said the same thing to Mirabel.
"Exactly," Abuela said with a nod.
The hurricane crashed around the house full force, wind shrieking and ran pounding like the fists of an angry mob.
Pepa flinched, and her expression was pinched. She stroked her messy braid and struggled to breathe normally.
"The hurricane is agreeing with us," Félix joked. "Such a loud voice he has." He cupped a hand to his mouth and called, "Señor, keep it down, we are at dinner."
Antonio giggled.
Agustín laughed loudly. It sounded a little fake. He raised his wine glass. "An excellent dinner! To our hostess."
They toasted a blushing Señora Guzmán. For the rest of the dinner, they had to raise their voices to compete with the wind and the rain, but everyone acted like they didn't notice. Without a cloud over Pepa's head, it was difficult to tell how upset she was about the storm. For once, her emotions weren't on full display.
xxx
Bedtime saw Antonio snuggling with Camilo tightly, Isabela looking unusually tired and un-perfect as she tossed and turned in response to the hurricane raging across the Encanto, Luisa wide awake and openly listening to it as she lay on her back, Mirabel lying on her stomach with her pillow over her head, and Bruno snoring lightly as he slept in the armchair. It wasn't until several hours later that Mirabel rolled over onto her side as the wind lessened that she noticed Dolores wasn't in the living room with the rest of them. She rubbed her eyes and retracted Dolores' steps in her mind. She never came back after getting up to use the bathroom.
Mirabel knew what Bruno would say: It's not your responsibility to look after everyone. Get some sleep. Instead of heeding the predictable advice, she put on her glasses and got up. A search of the ground floor revealed no Dolores. The windows were shuttered against the hurricane; there was no way for Mirabel to look out without going out. She dressed and wrapped her shawl around her tightly. Please be close to the house. As quietly as she could, she inched the door open and shut it behind her.
Dolores stood under the eaves close to the side of the house, underneath Mariano's bedroom balcony. Dolores' distinctive way of tying back her hair made her silhouette unmistakable.
Mirabel inched over to her, wincing at the wind in her eyes and glad that the house provided partial shelter from the wind and rain. However, it wasn't pounding and pouring rain at the moment. It was a more normal downpour.
Dolores tilted her head in Mirabel's direction. "Go back to sleep." She spoke so softly that her words were barely audible above the storm.
"Dolores," Mirabel whispered frantically. "What are you doing out here? There's a hurricane!" She gestured at the sky.
"We're in the eye of the storm. Everything seems peaceful. But it's not." Dolores stared out at the dark, wet, silent town, her own eyes dark and unreadable. Her hands she gently clutched to her chest.
Over the course of Mirabel's attempt to save Casita, she had learned to listen carefully to every word Dolores spoke. "What do you mean?"
Dolores sighed and tapped her hands lightly against her sternum. "It's not peaceful."
Mirabel glanced up at Mariano's balcony and then narrowed her eyes at her cousin. "You like him, don't you? Mariano is the man Tio Bruno saw in his vision. The man who would be just out of reach because he would be betrothed to another."
Dolores shushed her. "You speak too loud."
Mirabel edged closer and whispered in Dolores' ear. "You can't hide behind Tio Bruno's vision. Mariano isn't engaged to anyone. The vision was wrong. Bruno jumped to conclusions. He did that with the vision he did for me, too. He thought the person I was supposed to hug was Isabela. It was Abuela. His visions are scrambled up all the time."
Dolores squeaked. "He doesn't like me. He doesn't even notice me."
"If you spoke to him, he would notice you."
Dolores hurried away from Mirabel, brushing past her on the way to the door.
Mirabel groaned and walked back inside. At least you're coming in out of the rain.
They both changed into their nightgowns, and Dolores pointedly settled down on the other side of Isabela and at least pretended to go to sleep. Mirabel didn't buy it, but she didn't push, either. She snuggled down in her blanket and closed her eyes, counting her breaths until she fell asleep.
