Dolores is the first of the girls to wake because she slept closest to the living room window. The sun broke over the horizon nearly half an hour ago to greet her with a warm hug and a cheerful insistence on keeping her up despite every effort to fall back into the first fitful sleep she's had this week. She manages to extract herself from the pallet on the floor without waking her primas and follows the distant clink of dishes to the kitchen.

Tía is already flitting around with her usual morning energy, setting out coffee and hot chocolate as though it isn't their first morning in a stranger's home. Dolores suppresses a smile as Tía recounts the mugs twice to make sure she has enough, taking away one then setting it back then adding two more. She turns at Dolores's step.

"Buenos días, Lola."

"Bueno-o-osss – buenos días, Tía," she yawns and gives her aunt a quick embrace and a kiss in greeting. Julieta smiles when Dolores picks up two coffees and heads out the back door.

"Tío," she calls to the hammock. "Coffee."

There's not an immediate response, but she doesn't expect one. Tío never sleeps well, and as a result, never wakes up well either. She sets his cup on the small table that fills the space between two matching chairs and the sofa, over which her brother is sprawled.

She's about halfway done with her coffee when Camilo stirs. He makes a show of yawning and stretching and harrumphing himself into a sitting position before reaching out for Tío's cup.

"Hey!" She says.

"What?"

"That's not yours."

"Who else is it for?"

"Tío."

"Oh, well, he's not here, so –" he claims the coffee and tips it into his mouth before gagging. "Ugh, he takes it black?"

"What do you mean he's not here?"

Camilo gestures toward the hammock, which sways far too lightly in the morning breeze to be occupied. "He left before sun-up."

"Left?" She squeaks.

"Uh... yeah? Nearly pulled that down trying to find his shoes in the dark."

"He can't just – just leave."

"Isn't that what he does?"

"No!"

He peers over the top of the stolen coffee mug at her with interest. "Really? Then where was he, hm?"

"I..."

"Knew 'he never left'?"

"Sshh!" She gestures frantically for her brother to lower his voice, eyes raking every door and window to ensure their conversation isn't overheard. "No, okay? He didn't. I knew; I always knew, but no one else did, and you can't tell anyone until he's ready for them to know, and don't talk to him about it, either."

Camilo blinks and distractedly takes another sip of straight black coffee. The bitterness brings him out of his stupor. "Ugh – um. Wow, okay. Does anyone else know?"

"Mirabel... and Toñito."

There's movement at the end of the drive that catches both of their attention. Bruno and Mirabel are slowly walking towards the house, hand in hand. Antonio has apparently been waiting for them and goes running out to meet them, bouncing around Bruno until Bruno bends down to whisper something in his ear and sends him back to the house with a message.

"Tío wants to know if there's coffee!" Antonio shouts at everyone. Bruno turns bright red but seems both pleased and amused when Mirabel chuckles.

Camilo looks back at Dolores. "I give him a week."

"I'm working on it."

"It's not your job. He's the grown-up."

"It's... complicated."

"No, it isn't." His tone is firm, showing a rare maturity as he meets her eyes. "It's not your secret. It never was."

"...I know."

Skepticism is written all over his face, but he shrugs at her and salutes Tío Bruno in greeting with the pilfered coffee mug as Tía calls them in for breakfast.

The seating arrangements are just as chaotic as they were last night, the only difference being a marked distance between Pepa and Bruno. Bruno elects to stand this time, with all of his sobrinos at his feet, and none of the adults try for anything more than a cursory conversation with him.

Isabela slowly collects everyone's plates as they finish, and when Mirabel passes hers over, Isabela asks, "Why are you so dirty?"

Mirabel blushes and hurriedly wipes her hand on her skirt. Before she can come up with an excuse, Bruno also hands Isa his plate to add to the stack. Isabela's nose wrinkles at the dried mud on his fingers.

"I seem to remember a time when you didn't mind the dirt."

"I didn't say I minded," she says defensively. "Where did it come from?"

"Oh, we were both up early and decided to see if anything else could be done quickly."

"And?"

"Not really. I did find some old planters though. Thought maybe you or your mother might want them."

"For what? I can't – for what?"

A soft sadness blooms in Tío's eyes. "I thought you might... want to try to grow things... the old-fashioned way?"

"Hm."

"Not just flowers. Julieta could teach you to cultivate spices or healing herbs. She used to dabble in gardening when we were younger." Tío's hand comes up as though it wants to lay itself on her cheek, but when he sees the dirt on it, it reaches all the way up to ruffle his hair instead. "It doesn't have to end, not if you don't want it to."

Isabela gathers the last couple of plates and doesn't reply immediately. "I'll... think about it."

Tío gives a small sigh when she leaves, and Dolores elbows him gently. "It's not 'no.' She'll come around. They all will."

"...I know."

Camilo listens to the exchange with a raised brow but doesn't offer a comment as everyone gets to their feet to face the day.

A/N: Merry Christmas Eve and Happy Holidays!