Later that night, the Madrigals explore their new bedrooms, and Mirabel returns to the nursery.
Maribel was thrilled to finally have her own door.
Bruno could see it in the eyes that flashed behind her oversized glasses and the way she had to wipe a little snot off on her skirt. (Probability the purpose of Mirabel's embroidery was to cover stains increased by 12%. Probability she would cover the avocado stain on Bruno's ruana increased by 5%.)
She was a little less thrilled to return to the nursery at the end of the night. Everyone could see that. Even Mariano.
"Hey, Mirabel, why so blue?" He nudged her with the elbow that wasn't crooked around Dolores' canted hip. Everyone else had gone home some hours ago, but the Madrigals (and one in apprentice) had been too wired on the heady combination of magic and Julieta's sugary tintos.
"What? Me? Nothing. I'm fine. I'm great! Just not tired yet. All the excitement, I guess!"
"You need your sleep, mi hija," Agustín said pointedly, but it wasn't pointed at Mirabel. "We all do."
"Oh, uh, sí, sir," said Mariano, beginning to walk backwards through the plaza. Casita helped him to avoid a planter. "I'll just be going home to mi madre now. Buenas noches, Madrigals. Dolores, I'll uh, talk to you later."
She gave him an indulgent smile. "I'll keep an ear out."
Mariano ducked out the front door, muttering something about "valores, electores, flores- no, definitely not flores."
Bruno could tell that Mirabel wasn't the only Madrigal hesitant to approach their old bedroom. Everyone eyed their doors, where the magic still flowed, fetal and fickle.
Isabella moved first, throwing her door wide open so everyone could see the room that lay beyond.
Flowers.
A little darker and spikier than the ones that grew there before, but nothing to be afraid of (except the sundew). Of course not. It was Casita.
That helped Bruno gather up the courage to knock, knock, knock, knock on wood, and open his own door.
"Huh," he said.
"What is it, Tío?" Mirabel was hovering at the bottom of steps, nowhere near the nursery.
He simply stepped aside to reveal a sand… garden? At least it looked like the dry gardens Bruno had seen in Abuela's yellowed old newspapers about the treaty with Japan. There were no plants, but there were a few rocks. A wooden walkway circled the room, covered in soft looking cushions and straw mats.
"Not bad," said Mirabel, and then with much more gusto. "No stairs! Oh, thank goodness. I was not looking forward to that. I think I would've rather gone back to visit you in the walls."
Bruno couldn't help letting out a small laugh at that. There was a wooden rake hanging from the wall, which he twirled experimentally a few times before returning to its place (upside down, because it was basically a broom, and brooms had to be upside down, or maybe not anymore, now that he was back in his room).
"Tio Bruno, you might want to breathe," said Mirabel. "At some point."
"Sí, gracias, Mirabel. I wonder why it changed?"
"I dunno'." She shrugged. "Maybe 'cause we did."
"Then…" Bruno wondered if he should bring it up (Mirabel hadn't brought it up), but eventually he plunged ahead. "I wonder if your room changed as well?"
"I doubt it," she said. "I don't have a gift."
Bruno frowned. "Of course you do."
"Maybe," said Mirabel, "or maybe Casita just came back to life as soon as it was complete again."
Before Bruno could think of a response (or respond without thinking, which was really more within his repertoire), there was a commotion from the bottom of his staircase.
"Mirabel!" called Antonio.
"Mirabel? Where are you?" It was strange, even to Bruno, to hear Isabella call her sister's name without a note of outrage. It took Mirabel a moment to respond.
"We're in Tío Bruno's room," she called back, but not too loudly, just in case Dolores was with them.
"Dolores said she needed some time in her room after that fiesta," Antonio explained, poking his head through the door.
"Still soundproof?" asked Mirabel.
"Except the balcony," said Isabella, giving Mirabel a secretive smile.
"Can I come in?" asked Luisa, and it took everyone looking at Bruno to remember that not only could they see him, they were in his room. "Yes! Please. If you'd like."
"We're going to have a sleepover tonight," she told them. "We're just trying to decide where. Isabella's room is out because it tried to eat one of the toucans, and Antonio says all of Tía Pepa's rain triggered a mating season for the coatis."
"I'm learning a lot about biology," Antonio added, in a slightly stunned voice.
"Where's Camilo?" asked Mirabel.
"Oh, he snuck out a little while ago," Isabella. "He's going to turn into Mariano and read some truly awful poetry."
"How do you know?"
She gave a dainty shrug. "Who do you think helped him write it?"
"Isa!"
"What? I'm doing this for Dolores. Now when she finally hears Mariano's real poem, she'll be impressed. It's like making your bridesmaids wear ugly dresses."
Mirabel crossed her arms."Well, then you better hope Dolores doesn't like just desserts."
"I like desserts," volunteered Antonio.
"We're probably going to pick Luisa's room for the sleepover," Isabella changed the subject as fluidly as she changes the flowers in her hair. "It has a hot springs now."
Luisa pinkened, whether from embarrassment or pleasure, Bruno couldn't tell. Probably both. He'd gotten the impression his niece's guilty pleasure was, in fact, pleasure.
"We just have to see yours first!" Antonio exclaimed.
"I don't think mine's going to be anything special, you guys," said Mirabel, with a wry, accepting, and very well-practiced smile. "I mean, it's the nursery. The most exciting thing to ever happen in there was Camilo's science project."
"The one with the volcano?" asked Isabella.
"Oh, I forgot about that one. I was thinking about the one with Tía Pepa and the potato."
Mirabel didn't even notice Antonio take her by the hand and lead her down the stairs until they were standing in front of the nursery door.
"Look!" Antonio was pointing, not at the door itself, but at the knob. Where it had once been plain, it was now engraved with a simple letter M.
"Just like Casita's front door!" said Luisa.
"What about the nursery?" asked Mirabel, her hand lingering on the new knob long enough to temper their enthusiasm. "Do you think it's just gone?"
"Maybe Casita decided we don't need a nursery," said Antonio. "At least not until Dolores lets Mariano propose again."
Isabella frowned. "You're not supposed to know about those things, Tonito."
He gave a little shrug. "Biology."
"So are you going to open the door, or are we going to spend the night in the hall?" asked Isabella. "Because I don't think even my hair could recover from that."
"Go on." Antonio placed an encouraging hand on Mirabel's hip, which was the highest he could reach.
She took a deep breath and toed the door open with one espadrille.
"Que chévere!" Antonio and his entourage of animals were inside the room before anyone else could even finish taking it all in. For one thing, it was huge. Maybe not as big as Bruno's, old room vertically speaking, but at least as wide. It was much bigger than the nursery had ever been.
There were half a dozen beds, each with enough mismatched blankets and cushions to make a formidable pillow fort indeed. There was even a crib in the corner, although it was in slightly better shape than the one Antonio had inherited.
"You know what this means, right?" asked Bruno.
Mirabel shook her head, still apparently at a loss for words.
"When a new kid does come along, Casita isn't going to rebuild the nursery. You're just going to be the designated babysitter. Probably for the whole encanto."
"Camilo will be thrilled," she said eventually, sounding a little dazed. She was running one hand along the wall. Antonio's drawing of a winged, unicorn capybara was still pinned up, along with Mirabel's sketches for her latest outfit.
In addition to the beds, there was a small work station for Mirabel, complete with what looked like her old sewing machine and even the half-completed project she had been working on before Antonio's jaguar took priority. It was a mending job for Luisa. She went through a lot of sleeves.
There was a new oak cupboard with several doors which turned out to be an ice box. When Luisa opened one of the doors, she found it filled with cool glass bottles of orange juice. She helped herself.
Against the far wall was a small theater in it, the kind normally used for puppet shows. Bruno's rats were already putting on a show for Antonio and Isabella.
"You know what that means, right?" Bruno asked, surprised to find he was actually teasing Mirabel, the same way he used to tease Pepa.
"What?"
"Casita is preparing you to be the next Matriarca Madrigal."
That snapped Mirabel out of her trance. "No way."
"Yes way," Bruno argued.
"So we're staying in Mirabel's room, right?" asked Isabella, while the rats were on a commercial break.
"I vote yea," said Luisa, raising the hand with the juice in it.
"I vote yay too!" cried Antonio, and Pico squawked his vote.
Bruno could follow his cues.
"Alright. Have a good night. See you kids mañana," he said, sidestepping his way towards the door (habit after having to squeeze in between the walls for so long).
"You're not staying, Tío Bruno?" Mirabel immediately went into a full pout. She could be so mature, it was easy to forget how young she actually was. Either that or she had inherited her Tío's gift for "acting."
He chuckled nervously. "Well, sleepovers are for kids, right?"
"Nonsense," said Isabella, in her most regal princesita voice, which she had perfected by the time she was seven old. Bruno didn't stand a chance.
"Besides," said Antonio, leaving his seat to join them, the rats having abandoned their teaser for season nine of Alguna Rata Te Mira. He clung to Mirabel's skirt, but it was to Bruno he directed his best capybara pup eyes. "Perdita and Julio promised to do Titus Andronicus next."
"Maybe Twelfth Night would be a little more age-appropriate," Bruno suggested, but the subsequent squeaking was not particularly encouraging.
"Better stay," said Mirabel. "I think they need a chaperone, and I haven't agreed to Casita's whole babysitting plan yet."
"As if Antonio isn't already attached to your hip," said Bruno. "Literally. No, no, no. I've been spying on this family for a decade; you can't fool ol' Bruno."
"Are you sure about that?" asked Mirabel.
When Bruno looked down he realized he was sitting in an armchair much more comfortable than the one he had been nervously picking apart for the past ten years.
Also, there was some very hearty looking bomarea multiflora securing him to it.
"Can I braid your hair, Tío?" asked Luisa.
Bruno looked around, as if considering his situation, and then shrugged.
"Meh."
