Chapter 27: Comfort
6 years before Encanto
Rain poured over the Encanto as Pepa sat in the garden, staring out at the roses Isabela had helped her plant over the years.
Each one represented a little light she'd carried inside of her, but wasn't able to bring into the world. Each time one of those lights went out, so did a piece of Pepa, until now all she felt was dark.
She heard footsteps and blinked slowly, not turning around as they approached. Don't be Mama. Not Mama. Please, anyone but Mama.
"Mija."
Pepa closed her eyes.
Great.
She felt Alma sit beside her and her shoulders stiffened, the rain becoming heavier as it pattered over fabric, Mama holding an umbrella over her.
"You will get sick like this." Alma tried, but Pepa didn't look away from the roses.
"I'm already sick, Mama." Pepa muttered. "Sick and tired of you."
"That's fair." Alma sighed, looking out at the rain.
They sat side by side, then finally Pepa looked at her. Alma's expression softened as she saw her daughter's face. She looked tired and worn out, shadows under her eyes.
"What do you want?" Pepa finally asked.
"To see you." Alma told her. "I worry about you, mija."
Pepa scoffed, turning away again. "Do you, Mama."
Alma clasped her hands together, unsure how to proceed, but determined to try. She knew she deserved her daughter's anger. Both of her daughters. Alma had made a mess of their family, to the point where she wasn't sure if they'd ever forgive her.
"Pepa. I know everything is hard right now. Ever since your brother-"
"We don't talk about Bruno." Pepa reminded Alma, wide and furious eyes staring at a spot on the ground. Her hands twisted her braid like she wanted to strangle it.
Alma fell silent again, the only sound between them being the pattering of rain on umbrella.
"I know what you are here for." Pepa finally said, her voice dry.
Alma went to speak but her breath caught. She cleared her throat and tried again, but for some reason the words came out soft. "What's that, mija?"
Pepa turned to Alma with a furious expression. "Don't do that."
Alma searched her eyes. "Do what?"
"Don't act sad." Pepa told her. "It's a trick, to make me feel guilty. So I will care, and then I will forgive you. Comfort you." Pepa threw a hand, turning away again. "I don't want to comfort you, Mama. I don't want to forgive you. I don't even want to see you. And If I cannot be sad, neither can you. That's only fair."
Alma held her breath, unsure whether to remain strong or allow Pepa to see that she wasn't pretending. She watched Pepa, wondering if her little girl was still in there, under the hard shell that Alma had created.
"You can be sad." Alma tried.
Pepa laughed bitterly, the sky flashing and rumbling.
"You are so funny, Mama." Her tone was flat. Then she turned back. "So go on, time for the punchline. Just say it."
Alma took a deep breath. "Say what?"
"What you came here to say." Pepa frowned, standing up and holding her arms out to the rain. "What you always come here to say, every time you find me like this, in the garden, crying in the rain."
Alma looked up at her sadly.
"Try again, Pepa." Her daughter spat. "Keep the miracle burning. Save our family."
Alma stood up too, offering the umbrella but Pepa slapped it away, sending it to the ground with a clatter.
"Never, are you okay Pepa." She continued, waving a finger in Mama's face while thunder crashed. "Never what do you want, Pepa. Or I am proud of you for trying." Her daughter's voice broke at the last phrase and she turned away.
Alma took her by the arm, and for a split second Pepa looked afraid, but then her expression hardened and she shook Mama off.
Alma looked into Pepa's angry eyes, knowing she'd pushed her daughter too far. Again.
"Are you okay, Pepa?" Alma asked gently, rain dripping from her hair and running down her face. "Tell me what you need. Open my eyes, so I can help you."
Pepa scoffed. "Too late, Mama."
Alma closed her eyes. It was so hard. She didn't know how to do this. It felt like Alma just got older but never wiser. If anything, she got worse. Bad choices became engrained into her mind, so deep they felt impossible to undo.
"I'm sorry." Alma tried again. "For pushing you. For driving away Bru-"
Thunder crashed and Pepa's eyes flashed with the lightning. Alma took a breath, but stood her ground.
"We don't talk about Bruno!" Pepa shouted, hand gripping her braid tight as the glow in her eyes intensified. She took a deep breath, then smiled uncomfortably and slowly exhaled, her eyes dimming to normal.
Alma swallowed, trying again.
"I know I'm not the best Mama." Alma forced the words out. It was hard for her to admit it. "I learned from. Well. My own life. I never knew how it was supposed to be." She took a deep breath, not used to talking about herself. "I got used to pain as a child, until it became all I knew."
Pepa scoffed, unimpressed.
"You know, I could do that too." Pepa told Mama. "Hurt my children, then blame it on my Mama. But I don't. I would never." She held up a finger to emphasise her point. "And that is the problem, Mama. You never learn. You never change. You say sorry, then hurt us again."
Alma watched quietly, letting Pepa's words sink in.
"I'm sorry." Alma told her, her voice a little shaky now. "I don't want to lose you." Alma took a breath. "I love you, Pepa. I want to do better for you and Julieta. I want to treat you the way you deserve. That's why I'm here, to apologise."
Seeing the glow return to her daughter's eyes, Alma quickly added, "Not so you will forgive me. You don't ever have to forgive me, Pepa... I'm apologising because I mean it. Because you deserve to hear it. And because... It's something I should've done a long time ago."
The angry glow faded from Pepa's eyes and the storm calmed. Pepa's expression was still guarded, but she seemed interested in what Alma had to say.
"I'm sorry I didn't thank you." Alma continued. "For everything you have done to protect this family." Alma took a deep breath, rain dripping from her hair. "I am proud of you, Pepa. I am so sorry that I hurt you. I asked for too much."
Pepa's eyes searched Alma's.
"I'm proud of you." Alma told her. "And I want you to know... It's okay to stop."
Alma paused, wanting to make sure her daughter heard it. "You can let go now, Pepa. No more trying, no more pain, no more pressure. I'm going find a new plan, one that doesn't hurt you. This one is over."
Alma took a shaky breath, looking down now because she could no longer hold back the tears.
"Even if that means we have to leave our home." Alma whispered. "So be it. It is more important that you are okay." She looked up at Pepa, her voice stronger now. "And no matter what happens next, I'm going to protect you, Pepa. From the world... And from myself."
Pepa tilted her head a little, because this was new.
Alma swallowed, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She looked away again, while Pepa watched with crossed arms.
There was a moment, then the rain stopped. Alma looked up in surprise.
Pepa raised an eyebrow, and Alma couldn't help but smile, because just for a moment, she was reminded of her sister.
"You really meant all that, Mama?" Pepa asked.
Alma nodded.
"Every word?"
She nodded again, watching as her daughter shifted her weight, trying to decide.
Pepa sighed, then slowly held out a hand for Mama. Alma looked back at in disbelief. She didn't deserve this.
"Well? Come on then." Pepa muttered, hand still out as she beckoned with her fingers.
Alma put a hand into Pepa's, feeling her daughter's slender fingers close around it, gently bringing her hand to her stomach.
Pepa placed Alma's hand over her tummy and Alma's eyes widened a little, feeling the hardened bump. She looked up to meet Pepa's intense gaze.
Alma took a shaky breath, hand gently stroking her daughter's belly, then looked up at Pepa, eyes filled with tears. It was further along than normal. Maybe her brave girl would be okay this time.
Pepa noticed the sentimental look in Mama's eye.
"Why, because you got what you wanted?" Pepa muttered.
Alma shook her head, wiping her eyes with one hand and unable to let go with the other. She felt the soft rise and fall against her palm as Pepa breathed, and the warmth of her body. It had been so long since they'd shared a close moment like this, and it comforted Alma, giving her hope that maybe things could be okay between them again, one day. And if nothing else, Alma would treasure this moment.
"What?" Pepa frowned, because Mama wouldn't stop staring.
"I just love you, mija." Alma sighed. "I'm proud of you. And I love being close to you... I missed it." She took a breath, speaking carefully. "If things were different, I would hug you right now."
Pepa exhaled in a puff.
Just when Alma thought Pepa was going to push her away, Pepa pulled Alma in for a quick hug that lasted longer than it was meant to.
Alma melted into Pepa's embrace, so grateful to hold her again, and Pepa rested her head on Mama's shoulder, feeling Alma stroke up and down her back.
"Ok enough." Pepa decided, letting go and heading off.
Alma smiled as she watched her go, then called after her. "Pepa?"
Pepa stopped, cloud over her head as she turned back.
"What?"
"I really do love you, mija."
"Hm." Pepa was still frowning, but her cloud faded and the sky became a little brighter.
Alma watched with hopeful eyes.
"Last chance." Pepa warned, and Alma nodded in agreement, watching as her daughter walked away.