How to Woo a Madrigal
Chapter One
The town nestled within the protective walls of the sun-kissed Encanto mountains, among towering wax palm trees and bold flowers, was a bustling whirlwind. Excited chatter mingled with the sounds of labor as townsfolk swarmed the streets in haste to finish errands and close up businesses in anticipation for the evening party to be held at the Madrigal household. There was no special occasion. The Madrigals were eager to celebrate their love and unity.
A toucan carried a line of streamers to the arch above the front doors. Securing the streamers, the avian swooped into the open doorway. It glided towards the stairs, drawn to a bobbing piano as Luisa carried it down. It came to a landing on the lid and emitted a greeting to the hulking woman to which she acknowledged with a broad grin.
The tantalizing scent of food wafted from the kitchen, primarily meat-based. Agustín and Félix stood guard by the table where a myriad of freshly prepared dishes were laid out, warding off animals and Camilo hoping to steal a morsel.
In unison, their heads turned into the direction of the kitchen as labored grunts from their wives stole their attention. While they were occupied, Camilo tip-toed to the table, his fingers cautiously inching closer to a golden brown carimañola. A snake of tiles reared up from the floor to smack the boy in the rear. Dissuaded, he sulked off.
As Antonio sprinted by with the majority of his animal entourage in tow, the jaguar broke off to investigate the smells in the kitchen. With their combined strength, Julieta and Pepa were struggling to remove a lechona from the fire oven. The crispy skin of the swine sizzled and popped, juice sweating from any cracks it could find. They paused upon spotted the spotted feline gazing up at them with dripping jaws. Dark clouds were conjured above Pepa's head, swirling and building.
"Antonio! Get your jaguar out of this kitchen!" Pepa demanded. The swollen cloud looming above her and her sister was threatening to burst at any moment.
"Deep breaths, Pepa." Julieta's tone was soft, but it fell on deaf ears. There was still much to do.
"Sorry, Mami!" Antonio rushed into the kitchen and came to a sliding stop beside the jaguar. "Come on. You know you're not supposed to be in here."
The feline's entire frame drooped. After making a final effort by presenting the women with a set of pleading eyes, he followed the small boy out. The roasted pig was carried to the table and slammed down in the very center. The sisters dropped their tired arms and exhumed relieved sighs.
"Mi querida," Félix crooned to his wife as he pulled out a chair. His brother-in-law did the same gesture for Julieta. "Have a seat. You and Julieta have been cooking all day."
Pepa reached for her hair, but Félix's gentle hands stilled her own. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words died in her throat when Luisa approached.
"Take a breather, Tía Pepa. Me and Isa will finish up." She wasn't especially adept in the kitchen, but her one-on-one lessons from her mother made her competent. Fortunately, she would have a better cook in Isabella to rely on.
All heads shifted as movement caught the corner of their eyes. Eager to avoid the social event, Bruno was making a beeline to the open doors.
"Hey, cuñado! Where are you going?" Felix queried.
Bruno froze in his steps and slowly about-faced. His smile was forced, visage the very image of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Oh, um, to the market," he said lamely, briefly averting his gaze and running a hand over the nape of his neck. Even after the passing of six months since he reunited with his family, he was still getting used to interacting with them. A decade of isolation, with only the company of rats, severely deteriorated his social skills. He would need more time, patience, and plenty of love to properly develop. "I thought that we could use more food for the party."
Eyes stole a fleeting glance over to the bounty that covered the table.
"Bruno, the market will be closed by the time you get there," said Julieta. The woman pursed her lips, concern stealing over her face. "Mirabel should return from Señor Castellanos' farm with some fruit."
Silence was shared between them. Manuel Castellanos had established his farm beyond the town over four decades ago. With his bare hands and with the assistance of donkeys, he built his small house for his wife and planted fruit trees and bushes, expanding his orchards as the years rolled by. He had always been the no-nonsense sort, but the tragic passing of his son and daughter-in-law soured him. Reduced to a recluse and teaching his older grandson the trade, his appearance in town was a rarity. The once clear path to the farm was overgrown, sequestering it from the rest of the villiage.
Agustín was the first to break the silence. "I'm sure she'll be fine," he said, his tone laced with a hint of concern. "I believe his grandson is the one who handles the farm nowadays."
Beyond the town's outskirts, past a wall of Cecropia and coffee trees dwelt the Castellanos residence. An old house with bricks of faded, ambiguous colors stood the test of time, enduring all elements and stood stout and sturdy, like an ancient tortoise. A neighboring barn, not quite as old but still as strong, was settled among a decent-sized pasture. Araucanas scratched and pecked the grass, clucking contentedly. A sea of fruit-bearing trees and bushes stretched across five acres of land.
Among a dense grid of papaya trees was Mirabel, perched upon the shoulders of an 18-year-old man. He stood at five feet and eight inches, lean with little muscle. His skin was tanned golden, his features boyish and shaven. Beneath a white and black sombrero vueltiao was a mop of black hair curled at the ends of his locks. He donned a sweat-soaked white button-up shirt, faded blue jeans, and scuffed brown boots.
Large chocolate brown eyes focused on the papaya closest to them. The slight forward shift on Mirabel's part pushed the young man's hat over his face.
"Sorry, Rico! Almost got it!" Mirabel grunted as she extended herself. Grasping her prize, she yanked it from the tree. She let out a victory cry, then substantially yelped as she and Rico wavered. Their combined effort to regain balance resulted in both of their backs meeting the ground.
A dark brown donkey with a white belly and legs, burdened with saddlebags bulging with mixed fruits, brayed a laugh. Rising onto her rear, Mirabel adjusted her glasses. The sight of the young man sprawled out before her spurred her into action. Tucking the acquired papaya beneath an arm, her opposite hand scooped up his arm.
"You okay?" she queried while assisting him to his feet.
Allowing his hat to remain on the ground, Rico rubbed his head. Dimples dug into his cheeks as the corners of his lips formed a small, reassuring smile. "Y-yeah… Happens all the time–Fernando, no!"
The addressed donkey froze in the middle of tugging at one of the saddlebags between his teeth in an attempt to pull it closer to steal a taste of fruit. Drawing his head away, the equine smiled innocently. Mirabel shook her head, adorning amusement. The burro reminded her of Camilo. Sometimes in more ways than one.
The elusive papaya was deposited into a saddlebag. Glancing over her shoulder, Mirabel regarded the young man with gratitude. "I really appreciate you giving us all of this fruit! You sure we don't owe you?"
Picking up his hat, Rico shook his head. "N-no, that's okay… You worked for it… Uh, well, you did half the work, but, really, it's fine."
Mirabel's eyes lit up. She felt fortunate she had such kind neighbors. Visits like this were scarce, as it was typical of her and her family to choose the market in favor of the source if they needed fruit. It was the same for the remaining townsfolk. The market wasn't out of the way or run by a rude elderly man.
She wasn't fond of Manuel. Every encounter with him had ranged from cold to outright unpleasant. When she first met his wife and two grandsons, she had been relieved they were nothing like him. His wife, Rosa, was a kind and patient woman, much like her mother. She hadn't seen much of their eight-year-old grandson but when he wasn't following his older brother around, he was off playing. Rico was the quiet, shy type. Whenever a conversation took place, it was usually one-sided. He never told her much about himself. She couldn't even recall him ever bringing up the fact that she lacked a gift, which she was grateful for.
"Still…thanks," she said. "You'll be stopping by, will you? I don't remember ever seeing you at any of our parties."
There was the possibility that she just overlooked him. It wasn't like she had actively looked for him or kept track of who attended.
Rico gave pause. His grandparents weren't party-goers, so he knew they wouldn't be interested. His brother, Guillermo, however, would nearly pull his arm out of his socket dragging him there. He doubted he would be permitted to go. Not after the boy accidentally broke their abuela's favorite vase the day before. Rico wasn't a fan of crowds, and as awkward as he was, swinging by a party did sound tempting. The only downtime he partook in was related to his family and the farm. He was overdue.
"I dunno…" he mumbled, placing the sombrero vueltiao back on his head. "Maybe."
"Come oooon," she coaxed. "You're giving us this fruit. The least we can do is invite you to our party." She lowered voice to a barely inaudible volume as she tacked on an additional comment. "Even if it's open invitation."
Rico rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes flitted to the face of his donkey. The equine nodded vigorously. "Ah… Okay, I'll come."
The lechona proved to be too alluring for the jaguar to resist. The men shielded the table and wrestled the determined wildcat until Luisa intervened to banish him to Antonio's bedroom for the evening.
This was the opening Bruno had been waiting for. With everyone else distracted by the scene, he darted for the door. Unfortunately for him, he found the doorway blocked by Mirabel, a donkey, and a young man he didn't recognize.
"Tio Bruno! You're just in time! Help me get this fruit in the kitchen," Mirabel requested. There was a smirk playing at her lips and a glint in her eyes that let her uncle know she was aware of his escape attempt. Should he get too overwhelmed, he would be permitted to leave. Witnessing a panic attack once was enough. They did want him to at least try mingling.
Bruno tried to formulate an excuse before he exhumed a resigned sigh. Piling fruit in his arms, he left for the kitchen.
"I think we might have gotten too many," Mirabel said as she began withdrawing fruit. "But you never know."
"I think you got enough, sis." Mirabel turned to see Luisa approaching. "Two saddlebags full-plus everything else-there'll be plenty to go around." She gave pause, looking over the young man and his donkey. She was sure she had seen him in town before. Regardless of whether or not a guest was a friend or stranger, he was given a welcoming smile. "Who's this?"
Rico tensed up at the sight of the woman who dwarfed him. He would never forget when he first laid eyes on her as a small child. Her feats of inhuman strength had terrified him. His fears were abated upon witnessing her use her strength to serve the community.
Mirabel waited a moment for Rico to introduce himself. When he did not, a concerned smile formed. "This is Rico. The old farmer's grandson."
The donkey between Mirabel and Rico brayed and looked at the teenage girl expectantly.
"Oh, sorry! This is Fernando," she said, gesturing to the donkey with a tilt of her head.
No wonder Luisa didn't know who he was. The old farmer and his family were reclusive. She never would have guessed this young man was related to Manuel. He seemed so quiet and demure-nothing like his grandfather.
She noticed him tensing up. She was familiar with such a reaction. Her family was revered by the town. When he backed up a step and lowered the lip of his hat to hide his eyes, the corner of her lip quirked into a half-smirk.
"Well, welcome to la Casita de Madrigal, Rico!" she greeted, positioning her fists upon her hips. "Are you planning to stay for the party?"
Running a hand up his opposing arm, Rico averted his gaze to Fernando. "I...said...I would."
"Great! I'll get this fruit into the kitchen!" Mirabel chirped as she resumed filling her arms.
"I-I'll help!" Rico instantly volunteered.
"Please, you already brought the fruit. The least I can do is give you a hand." As Rico gave way, Luisa shouldered both saddlebags. "When I come back, I'll show you where you can put Fernando."
Rico didn't protest. Once he and Fernando were left alone, he shifted his attention to the burro. He was a well- behaved beast, but he had his moments of mischief and curiosity that lead to chaos.
Positioning himself in front of Fernando, Rico took the donkey's head in his hands and looked him in the eye.
"Fernando," he began, his tone serious. "If I let you stay...will you behave?"
Smiling amicably, Fernando stretched out his upper lip to playfully brush his human's nose. It was endearing to him, but Rico couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something might go wrong.