The last of my strength is used to restrain myself from slamming Bruno's door and tumbling to the floor. Trailing down that obnoxious staircase was not the first thing I wanted to do this morning and now it has left me in a sweaty heap, leaning against the wall. After pulling myself together with a steady row of calming breaths, I head toward the nursery.
"I suppose I do need the exercise," I mumble to myself.
Approaching the nursery, I notice that the door is slightly cracked. Within it I see my two children still sleeping away in their beds, while Mirabel is nowhere to be seen. Quietly, I sneak into the room, sitting next to Alejandro's bed.
Resting a hand on his cheek, I begin to sing our 'Good Morning Song' that he loves to wake up to. Once he starts to stir, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, I move over to Camila, who is just starting to wake herself. Mila then begins to mumble along with the song, still only half awake.
Once the song is finished, rapid clapping is heard from the doorway behind me. My neck cranes to view Mirabel standing in the doorway, a large grin on her face. "You sing so pretty! I wish I could sing like that. Where did you learn?" Her eyes are light and shining with admiration. The intensity causes me to blush.
"Thank you. I've always loved to sing. My father set me up with a singing instructor when I was little. I even travelled a little, singing and preforming in plays in my teens."
"Wow! You're so amazing! I want to do that!"
I slide my knees around to better face her, resting one arm on the bed beside me. "I'm sure you can. You just have to learn some good techniques and understand your voice, then it takes a lot of practice. I'm sure you'd make a beautiful singer."
"Could you teach me?" The hope is so visible in her eyes in that moment that I can almost feel it myself.
"Well, I—" I say, thinking back to the lessons I received as a child, "I suppose I could. We need to ask your mother first, though."
"On it," she cries and promptly disappears through the door, the tapping of her footsteps fading off down the hallway. I let out a giggle. Conejito. That girl certainly is a ball of joy.
"I'm hungry," Mila complains. I look back over at her with a small smile.
"Well, let's see what we can do about breakfast."
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Breakfast is a full affair with the whole family laughing and joking at the table. It is a tight squeeze with the added three guests, but we make it through. I thoroughly enjoyed listening to Félix and his son Camilo with their friendly banter, Camilo utilizing his shape-shifting ability to his advantage by shifting into a smaller version of his father and rattling on in a squeaky voice. Pepa mildly reprimands her son for teasing his father, though it is only half-hearted. She quickly hides her sniggering in her napkin.
After breakfast ends, I join Julietta in working on the dirty dishes. She assures me there is no need but I insist, grabbing a towel and drying the few wet dishes she already has stacked along the table.
"You know, Mirabel spoke to me this morning about the singing lessons. You don't have to do that if you don't want to. I know she can be a little pushy." Julietta speaks in a hushed tone, handing the freshly cleaned dish my way.
"Oh, not at all! She was so sweet. I would love to give her lessons if you don't mind." I turn toward the cabinets, a stack of plates in hand. Julietta directs me toward a door that leads to the dinnerware, and I put them away before turning back toward Julietta. "It may not be as thorough as an actual singing instructor would be, but I remember my childhood lessons and I can help her with some techniques that I use."
"That would be wonderful. Thank you so much."
I nod and smile before a comfortable silence takes over the conversation. We finish putting away the last of the dishes before she speaks again. "I've been thinking about what you said about teaching the students here. I haven't had a chance to speak with the schoolteacher here, Señora Francisca, but she has been begging for an assistant teacher for years. I'm sure with the added students she would appreciate the help."
"Fantastic! Where is the schoolhouse? I'd like to introduce myself. I'm sure Ale and Mila would like to meet their new teacher as well."
"Certainly," she says, "I can take you down there tomorrow. Maybe I can speak to her about the position then. I have to run into town for some ingredients anyway." With a smile and nod, I run off to look for my children.
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Speaking with Señora Francisca is fascinating and mildly entertaining. She's a graying old woman with a quirky sense of humor who loves each of her students with everything she has. Because she's been teaching for so many years, the adults around town that were once taught by her now have children of their own, which have now begun showing up at her schoolhouse. She has many tips and tricks to get the younger students to behave, which I greatly appreciate. After discussing the position of assistant teacher, we decide that a good time to start would be next week, giving Ale and Mila a little time to adjust on their own without their mother lurking nearby.
Alejandro and Camila are sitting quietly, listening to the exchange. Little Mila is coloring in her drawing of a unicorn while Ale is constructing a small building out of glue and popsicle sticks.
"You know, I find it so funny that your name is Estrella," the older woman says.
"Why is that?" I ask, a container of crayons in my hands as I organize a cabinet that Señora Francisca had sent me to when asked if she needed any help around the classroom.
"You are living with the stars of our town," she states, as if it was the most obvious point in the world. "Now they've gained a star of their own.
"I'm no star, Señora Francisca."
"Why is that, Estrella?" the woman asks, eyes still glued to her students assignments on her desk. Her pen is scribbling away at a particularly pesky piece of paper. I sympathize for the poor soul that will receive such a response.
A beat of time passes as I dwell on my response. "I've made many mistakes in my life, Señora. I continue to make them, even now. Stars are the ones that get it all right, this life thing, and benefit those around them through it.
The woman looks up from her papers, eyeing me with motherly scolding. "I've heard it said once that stars never shine…but they burn. No one does their life perfect. Mistakes are what make us into the people we are today. Being a star isn't about what you do…but who you are.
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As I stroll through the halls of Casita, on my way to supper, I sing softly to myself. The tiles beneath my feet thrum along with the rhythm of the song. My fingers trace along the wall, hopping over a painting of a coffee pot before returning to their path.
A large pot shifts against the floor behind me with an echoing scrape. I look backward, seeing nothing but the rustling of the leaves in a potted plant, though there is no breeze to blow the leaves in that way. I call for Casita but am only met with dead silence. Taking a few slow paces forward, I brace myself for the reveal of something terrifying, though the logical part of my brain hopes for a rational explanation. As I finally creep near, careful to keep my footsteps silent, my hand shoots out to bat at the leaves, like a kitten playing with a new toy. In a second attempt, I yank the leaves back in a quick motion to find…nothing. I sigh, through frustration or relief, I'm unsure.
They do not happen often, but sometimes I hear noises, or a shadow will catch the corner of my eye that sets me off balance. The rational side of me emphatically states that there is nothing to worry about but the curious part of me is sure that there is something not right.
Looking up, I come face-to-face with a family portrait, which must have been done only a few years prior based on the number of Madrigals are present. The three sisters, Isabela, Luisa and Mirabel all stand forming a triangle with Mirabel in the front with a toothy grin. Their parents are standing behind them with serene smiles, each placing a hand one child's shoulder. Beside them are Félix and Pepa, holding each other tightly and standing proudly behind their two: Delores and Camilo. In front of them sits a woman with an undeniable look of authority and pride, the one and only Señora Madrigal…who still makes me tense up with intimidation as she passes.
A pair of emerald eyes catch my attention. To the right of the family bunch stands a lone man. He doesn't seem to be very tall, maybe only a few inches higher than me. His hair is full of dark curls, seemingly the same color and texture as his sweet sobrina, Mirabel. With tanned skin and a lean figure, he seems to be a nice-looking man, if only he did not have such a dejected expression on his face. The man looks like he holds the weight of the world on his shoulders. In some ways I suppose he does.
His eyes, though. They're so beautiful.
His eyes are like a grassy field on a springtime day, wind combing through the willowy strands. Or two ancient jade amulets, holding hidden power and magic within their rims. His eyes speak of pain and fear, hidden underneath deep thought and emotion.
In a word, he's handsome. Maybe not in the conventional sort of way, but I quite like the way he looks. Señor Bruno, I remind myself. With him being the triplet of Julietta and Pepa, he is quite a few years older than me. Someone like me would not catch the eyes of a man like that.
Silly Estrella, what are you thinking? There is the fact that he is not even here, remember? You've never met the man before.
I suppose I may just be lonely. I always dreamed of falling in love when I was younger. Perhaps with a young actor as I travelled the world. Those dreams were soundly dashed when my father—he…well, there's no reason to go into that. It's over now. No one would want a woman who is still technically married to another man and has two children, no matter the circumstances. I'll just have to work and take care of my children. That will be my purpose and that's okay.
"Estrella, are you coming?"
"Yes!" I call downstairs before running toward the dining room.
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Later on in the week, I find myself in the nursery, sitting in front of an antsy, but excited Mirabel Madrigal. Mila sits by my side, quietly listening to us while Ale is off playing with Camilo.
"You're singing more in your throat and it causes it to come across more breathy. When singing in your chest voice, you should feel the reverberation in your chest. Try again." Mirabel sings the tune once again that I have her practicing.
"Ah, there you go! You're definitely getting somewhere! Now, let me show you something." I stand up and walk to her side, pulling my shoulders back and standing tall. "When you're taking a breath, your shoulders are popping up. That means you're not breathing from your diaphragm, and you'll lose air much too quickly. Here, place a hand on your stomach like this." I place a hand on mine and wait for her to mimic it. "When you breathe in, your shoulders should be still, and your stomach should pop out. If you're doing it right, you'll notice your hand rise with your stomach. Good job, just like that! You're doing so well. I believe you will have a beautiful, powerful voice. Well done, Mirabel."
Mirabel blushes in response to the praise and jumps up with a squeal before wrapping me in a hug. "I'm going to go show Mamá what I've learned! Thank you again, señorita Estrella."
"Just Estrella is fine, conejito" I say before she scampers off.
Looking back at Camila, I find her laying on the bed fast asleep. Placing a kiss on her head and tucking her in the blankets, I whisper, "Rest well, mija" before walking away.