Mirabel wasn't sure how they managed to squeeze the whole family around one table, but with Antonio on Félix's lap and Dolores and Mariano sharing a chair it seemed to work out okay, even if it was still a tight fit.

Bruno sat at the head of the table, Julieta on one side and Pepa on the other. Abuela sat on the other side of Julieta and was conversing in low tones with Agustín across the table, but her eyes would slide away to gaze at her son every few minutes, a small smile on her face.

Mirabel, squished as she was between her own sisters, watched Bruno closely from further down the table, trying to gauge his emotional state. His shoulders were hunched and he seemed to be trying to disappear into his recently returned ruana, but then Pepa reached for his hand and squeezed it, and Julieta reached for his other hand and Mirabel saw him uncurl slightly with misty eyes and she knew that he'd be alright.

She allowed herself to lean back a little in her seat and shut her eyes then, catching bits of conversation here and there but not focusing on anything in particular, just letting the noise of her family wash over her.

A chair scraped against the floor and the whole room quieted. She opened her eyes to see Abuela stand and clear her throat.

"What a blessed day," Abuela began before she had to pause and clear her throat again, her head bowing. Julieta put a hand on her arm. Abuela covered her daughter's hand with her own, and she smiled at her children.

"What an unexpectedly blessed day to have mi familia here—new and old," she continued, her eyes meeting Bruno's. He ducked his head, whiskers twitching, and Pepa squeezed his hand. "Let us give thanks to God, as we celebrate the joining of two families—"

"Wait, wait, wait," Camilo said, pushing back his chair and standing. "Sorry to interrupt, Abuela"—Abuela raised an eyebrow but he barreled ahead anyway—"but…we're still having the wedding?"

"I mean, I would like to get married," Dolores said mildly. Mariano smiled and leaned to kiss her, and Camilo made a face.

"Yeah, whatever, but shouldn't we be, I don't know, fleeing into the jungle right now?"

"Why on earth would we do that, Milo?" Pepa asked with a confused laugh.

"Well. I mean. People…saw us." Camilo gestured toward Isabela and Bruno, then back to himself. "People know about the magic now. Alejandro Martinez called Isa a witch, por el amor de Dios—"

"I will talk to the Martinezes," Félix said firmly. He gave his son a crooked smile. "This won't be the first time I've had to explain away some of your antics, mijo. At least this time will be easy." He laughed. "We can blame it all on the monster that conveniently vanished, never to be seen again. Baffles the mind, those monstruos."

Bruno shuffled awkwardly in his chair. Camilo stared open-mouthed at his padre.

Isabela frowned, pushing up from her seat. "Well, then, what about Luisa? José shot her. Are we just gonna let him get away with it?"

"Yes," Abuela said simply. "Luisa and I have already spoken about it." She smiled down the table at her nieta, and Luisa gave her a small smile in return. "Since it was an accident, more or less, and we have no evidence and no lasting injury, Luisa is uninterested in pursuing any legal ramifications. Besides, it will be much easier to convince Señor Torres that nothing happened if we simply never speak of it again. When he sees that Luisa is not injured in any way, he will doubt himself."

"And…that'll work?" Camilo asked slowly.

"We are a well-respected family in this town," Abuela said, holding her head high. "Who has just gone through a great scare when our youngest was allegedly taken from his home by a monster who may or may not exist. Mariano did the noble thing in arranging a search party and Antonio was found safe and sound without incident. Whatever happened out in the jungle is none of our concern because we were not there. Understood?"

"Then how do we explain Tío Bruno's sudden appearance?" Isabela asked, folding her arms over her chest. "Because he's coming to the wedding."

Mirabel raised her hand. "I mean, uh, not to toot my own horn or anything, but Tío and I rode a bus to get here and no one noticed anything."

"I noticed," Mariano said mildly.

"Yeah, but you thought he was trying to—to kidnap me or something."

Mariano shrugged, unapologetic.

"If, uh."

Everyone looked at Bruno and he slumped in his seat at the sudden attention. "I mean…if it'll cause too much trouble, I don't–I don't have to go," he said, his voice getting softer with each word.

Abuela's gaze softened as she looked at him. "Do you want to, mijo?"

Bruno swallowed, looking down at his hands still clasped in his sisters'. He hunched his shoulders and whispered, "Sí."

Abuela nodded. "Then we will arrange it so you can."

Mariano raised his hand.

Dolores giggled and nudged him. "You don't have to do that, mi amor."

"Mirabel did," Mariano said, his hand still in the air.

"Yeah, but I was trying to be funny," Mirabel huffed.

Abuela sighed. "Sí, Mariano?"

Mariano lowered his hand. "I just wanted to say, um, technically, I've already invited Don Bruno to the wedding." He smiled and looked down the table at Bruno. "Isn't that right, Señor Oscar?"

At that, Mirabel burst out laughing. Everyone looked at her and she waved a hand, sinking down into her seat as she tried to contain her giggles. "Sorry, sorry, I just, with everything—I had completely forgotten about that."

But Bruno gave her an approximate smile down the table and inclined his head. "Technically," he said, addressing Mariano, "technically, I…I suppose you did."

"Oooh," Antonio said excitedly. "Can Tío Bruno sit next to me?"

Félix laughed. "We'll see, mijo, we'll see."


Without much discussion between them, the adults shooed the kids upstairs (and Mariano back home) so everyone could try and get some sleep before the wedding preparations could begin again in earnest in a few, short hours. There were some half-hearted protests, but eventually, all the kids made it upstairs and into bed.

Whether any sleep happened was another story. Mirabel was exhausted, but rapidly discovered she was too wired to fall asleep. She lay in her bed alternating between dozing and staring at the blurry ceiling until finally she felt she'd laid there long enough and sat up, throwing the blankets off and reaching for her glasses.

Isabela sat up at the same time and the sisters stared at each other in the blue light of the early sunrise.

"Uh, good morning?" Mirabel whispered.

Isabela snorted. She ran her hands through her thick hair, wincing when her fingers snagged. "Did you get any sleep?"

Mirabel tilted her hand in a so-so gesture.

"Same."

They both looked over at Luisa, who had her back to them, sound asleep. Isabela's gaze softened.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mirabel whispered.

"Not really," Isabela whispered back, shaking her head. "She's fine, there's nothing left to worry about."

Mirabel didn't believe her. "Okay, but…promise you'll let me know if you change your mind?"

Isabela made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat, but Mirabel would take what she could get.

Isabela slid off her bed and quietly slipped out the door. Mirabel got up and dressed as quickly and quietly as possible.

She was sticking her feet into her shoes when Luisa stirred and rolled over. Her eyes were half-open, and she squinted at Mirabel.

"Mira?" she asked. "What time is it?"

"Stupid early," Mirabel whispered. She sat down on the edge of Luisa's bed and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Go back to sleep."

"On it," Luisa mumbled, rolling over on her stomach and burying her face into her pillow. Within seconds, she was breathing deeply, asleep.

Mirabel took a deep breath of her own and squeezed her eyes shut. After a moment, she withdrew her hand and stood, slipping out the door and down the stairs.

Halfway down, she heard hushed voices drifting from the living room. When she peeked around the corner, she saw Julieta and Pepa sitting together on one couch, with Bruno squished between them. They'd all been crying, that much was obvious from their faces and the damp umbrella propped against Pepa's legs, but at that moment, they were laughing quietly about something. Julieta leaned her head against her brother's shoulder and Mirabel smiled and slipped away to make herself some coffee.

She found her father sitting at the kitchen table, sewing something in his lap. He looked up and blinked owlishly at her.

"Miraboo," he whispered. "Did you sleep?"

Mirabel shrugged and he gave her a sympathetic look. "Me neither," he said. "Too much going on up here." He gestured at his head with the hand still holding the sewing needle.

"Yeah," Mirabel said. "Yeah, same."

Agustín nodded behind him. "There's coffee." He chuckled at her suspicious look. "Don't worry, I didn't make it."

Mirabel gratefully poured herself a cup and joined him at the table, eyeing the fabric in his lap. Agustín held it up and she was surprised to see it was Bruno's ruana.

"I'm just cleaning it up a little," he explained. "With permission! I wanted him to look a little less…scruffy for the wedding and he agreed." He grimaced. "Not that your stitchwork wasn't impeccable, as always, but—"

Mirabel snorted. "Oh, no, please take out that horrible thread. But, um, I think Tío looking scruffy is a bit…unavoidable?"

Agustín waved a hand. "Sí, sí, sí, but at least now I can say I tried." He gave Mirabel a soft smile. "I didn't get to tell you earlier, with everything going on, but…I'm proud of you, mija."

Mirabel took a long sip of coffee to hide the heat rushing to her cheeks. "¿Por qué?"

Agustín nodded toward the living room. "That out there? Wouldn't be possible without you," he said gently. "You did good, kiddo."

Mirabel felt tears prickle behind her eyes and she furiously blinked them away. "So…I'm not in trouble? For closing the shop early and sneaking off to the Encanto?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that…"

Mirabel laughed. "Thanks, Pá."

Agustín's own eyes were bright behind his glasses. "De nada, Mirabel."


The next few hours were a whirlwind. Once the clock chimed seven a.m., everyone was woken up (some, like Camilo, more forcibly than others) and dragged down to breakfast where they all squeezed around the kitchen table once again, elbowing each other and bickering good-naturedly over coffee and migas de arepa. Mirabel even scored the very coveted chair next to Bruno and joined her mamá and tía's efforts in piling his plate high amid weak protests.

Halfway through breakfast, Agustín plopped the ruana in Bruno's lap, as well as a folded, stark white guayabera.

"It's my spare," he explained to Bruno's wide-eyed expression. "Let me know if it's too short, I might be able to add an inch or two to the hem, though it'll be a rush job—"

"I'll help, Pá," Mirabel said. "I'm faster—"

"Ha! I have a few backorders at home that would like a word."

Mirabel spluttered indignantly, pressing a dramatic hand to her chest.

Bruno looked between the two of them as they bantered, then at the table full of people, and then down at the clothes in his lap. His fingers skittered over the shirt.

Mirabel paused her conversation with her father to gently nudge Bruno until she caught his eye.

"Go try it on," she urged. When his gaze lingered on the rest of the family at the table, she lowered her voice and said, "We'll still be here when you get back."

Bruno took a deep breath and nodded. Slowly, he pushed back his chair and stood before faltering.

"Bathroom's this way, cuñado," Agustín said smoothly. "I'll show you…"

Every single person at the table, no matter what they were doing or who they were talking to, tracked Bruno and Agustín's movements until they were out of sight.

Mirabel scoffed at them, digging back into her food. "Geez you guys, he's just trying on a shirt."

It wasn't particularly funny, but Luisa laughed—the kind of laughter that only comes from a lack of sleep—and her laugh was infectious. Giggles spread down the table until even Abuela was snickering into her coffee.

When Bruno and Agustín returned (the shirt was, indeed, a few inches too short) they gave each other a confused look.

"Your guess is as good as mine?" Bruno asked.

"No, no, trust me," Agustín said with a sigh. He reached up to clasp Bruno's shoulder. "It's always like this."


After breakfast, it was a rush to get changed into her best dress and apply enough makeup to hide the bags under her eyes; Mirabel was unsure how successful she was. She was nearly done when the sound of a guitar and a piano drifted up from the ground floor and she looked up, confused.

She stepped out into the hallway and was immediately joined by her sisters and mamá. Dolores, radiant in her dress but barefoot, emerged from her bedroom, a blinding smile on her face. Pepa was right behind her, but her face was a rigid mask and her cloud was nowhere to be seen.

Someone downstairs began singing along to the music in a low, soothing voice. Dolores lit up and flew down the stairs still holding her shoes in her hand.

Luisa nudged Mirabel. "La Serenata," she whispered as a sappy smile spread across her face. "It was supposed to happen at the rehearsal dinner last night, I'm glad Mariano went through with it after all."

"He told me he's been practicing for months," Isabela said.

"Aww!" Mirabel cried. She grabbed her sisters' hands and pulled them downstairs to watch.

Agustín played the piano while Mariano, dressed smartly in his white guayabera, strummed the guitar and crooned a sweet love song Mirabel had never heard (but one she suspected was his own) to a teary Dolores. He finished just as the rest of the family crowded into the living room, and before the last note could conclude Dolores rushed him, crushing the guitar between them in her haste to kiss him soundly, while the family whooped and laughed.

Vámanos! To the church!" Félix shouted over the din, to more cheers.

Mirabel pushed through her family looking for Bruno and found him pressed up against the wall of the living room. He already wore a shawl across his face, his hood up to hide his ears. The sleeves of his borrowed guayabera were rolled down as far as they could go but were still an inch or two short, exposing a bit of the dark fur on his arms. But when Mirabel looked down, she saw his feet were—

"Tío, look!" she whispered.

Bruno looked and let out a muffled gasp. "Huh," he managed to say. He wiggled his very human toes.

"You didn't notice?"

He shook his head. "Guess I'll need shoes," he whispered faintly.

Mirabel, grinning, motioned for him to follow her. "C'mon. I bet we can find you some."


Once they reached the church, Bruno, stumbling in his borrowed socks and shoes, took one look at the gathering crowd and decided he was sitting in the back of the church…and no, he would not budge on this, Julieta.

"I can see perfectly fine from back here," he told his sister firmly. "I highly doubt Dolores will care, let alone notice—"

"I care," Julieta said.

"I'll notice," Mirabel added.

Bruno huffed, adjusting the shawl over his face.

Mirabel played her trump card. "Antonio really wants to sit next to you," she wheedled. "And he won't be able to see all the way back here..."

Bruno heaved out a deep sigh. "But people will see," he murmured. "And you all have to tell so many lies for me already—"

"Pah." Abuela appeared beside Julieta, a fierce expression on her face. "Let them see. You belong with your family today."

Bruno drew himself up and for a moment Mirabel thought, incredulously, that he was about to argue with his mamá. But before he could say anything, Antonio skipped out of the church and grabbed his hand, pulling his attention away from Abuela.

"I saved you a seat!" Antonio chirped, beaming up at Bruno. "It's between me and Mirabel!"

And Mirabel watched as any resolve Bruno might have had completely crumbled away, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled behind the shawl.

"Gracias, Toñito," he murmured. "I'm coming." He glanced off to the side and his expression grew serious for a second. "I just have to talk to your mamá really quick, okay?"

Antonio nodded. Abuela took her nieto's hand, looking a little smug, and escorted him inside.

Julieta's eyes narrowed. "What do you need to talk to Pepa for?"

But Bruno didn't answer and strode over to where Pepa was fussing over Dolores' veil. She still had that awful, frozen smile plastered on her face.

Julieta and Mirabel exchanged glances and followed.

"Pepa," Bruno whispered, nudging his sister.

Pepa's gaze jerked to his and then away. "What is it?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"Pepa," Bruno repeated. "Don't you think—I mean—"

Julieta suddenly looked alarmed. "Ay, Bruno, don't—"

"Doesn't it look like rain?"

Thunder boomed overhead, shaking the church. Through the church's open doors, Mirabel saw a few of the guests jump in the pews, whispering.

"Bruno Madrigal—!" Pepa hissed, followed by a string of very creative curses that had Mirabel's eyebrows disappearing into her hair.

Bruno hunched his shoulders and put up his hands defensively. "No, no, Pepa—I was just—you shouldn't bottle everything up—it's—it's your daughter's wedding—"

"Which is exactly why I'm not letting it all out!"

"Mami, it's okay."

Dolores put her hand on her mother's shoulder. Pepa frowned, but Dolores just gave her a small smile. "It's okay. He's right. Just—let go."

Pepa looked at Dolores for a long moment, before taking a shaky breath. Slowly, she let it out again, and it started to rain.

Dolores folded Pepa into an embrace, and Pepa wrapped her arms around her, crying into her shoulder. Dolores stroked her back. Neither of them seemed to care that they were getting wet.

"I'm so–so proud of you, mija," Pepa whispered.

Dolores tightened her grip.

Mirabel elbowed Bruno. He looked at her, and she could tell he was smiling softly under the scarf.

"Good job, Señor Oscar."

Bruno snorted.

Julieta rolled her eyes and elbowed him harder. "That was muy estúpido."

Bruno shrugged. "Worth it."

They ducked inside to take their seats as the Wedding March began to play.


Translations:

1. La Boda de Mariano y Dolores - the wedding of Mariano and Dolores

2. Por el amor de Dios - for the love of God

3. Migas de arepa - an arepa and egg dish typically served for breakfast

4. Cuñado - brother-in-law

5. La Serenada - the serenade, a traditional part of Colombian weddings where the groom surprises the bride with a song sometime before the wedding, usually followed by a party (but not in this case because, you know, all that other stuff)

6. Muy estúpido - very stupid