Chapter 25: Imelda's Secret

"There, all done!" Imelda said as she tied a small knot to her dress. With scissors, she cut off the last bit of string from her needle. The gangster raised her white silk dress to get a good view. It was as stunning as she expected.

"Wow, your dress looks so pretty!" Mirabel marveled at it.

"Gracias, Stephanie," Imelda grinned, studying its red stitches. "I think so too." She put it close to her chest and began to spin around. The woman felt giddy that she finally finished something that she had been working on for months.

"I don't see the girls yet," Miguel said, after peeking through one door after another.

"Why didn't Bruno give us directions to Imelda's room?" Héctor grumbled. He had forgotten that there were two long hallways and many rooms. "You'd think he would." Although he could have asked his friend for directions, the shoemaker wouldn't admit it.

Dante sniffed the floor as he walked. He perked up when his nose picked up on a scent that reminded him of his boys' mates. "Arf! Arf!"

"Tio, I think Dante found them or something!" Miguel grinned. He and his uncle followed his canine companion.

They came upon a door in which a woman was heard giggling. "Is that Imelda?" Héctor wondered as he pressed his ear to the door. He let out a startled sound when Dante and Miguel pushed the door right away.

While the gangster was in the middle of spinning, her bedroom door swung all the way open without being knocked. She stopped at the sight of an intruder and jumped. At the same time, the door hit the shelf, which woke up Pepita who screeched and knocked over a bag, which fell to the floor and spilled out some spools full of brightly colored thread.

"I'm sorry!" the shoemaker quickly apologized. Hastily, he stood up brushing his pants off. "We didn't mean to scare you." He backed up a bit when the cat jumped down from the shelf and knocked over more spools of brightly colored thread in the process.

"What are you two doing here and how did you get in?" Imelda barked, clinging to her dress.

"The door was open," Miguel answered. Just then, his dog started to chase the cat around in a circle. "We didn't even have to knock!" He joined in the circle of chase to catch his dog. Tried as he could, but the boy could not catch up to Dante because the animal was faster than him.

'Oh no, I forgot!' Mirabel thought. She cringed when her guardian glared at her. "Oops!" She was surprised when Pepita hopped on the table. The girl grabbed the creature not wanting cat hair on the dresses.

"How many times have I told you to always lock the door?" Imelda barked, shaking her finger.

"Twenty times," the girl winced, sinking in her chair. "Sorry, I forgot."

In the process of chasing Pepita, Dante tripped over a few of the spools and bumped into Imelda, which made her drop her dress to the floor.

"Oh!" Imelda yelped.

"Dante, stop it!" Miguel said, firmly. When he grabbed the dog, he was successful in grabbing him by the neck. "Lo siento, Señora Imelda."

The shoemaker looked over the white silk dress with a red pattern. "Imelda, you can sew clothes?" He picked the homemade white dress up before the gangster could. "Wow!"

"Oye, give it back!" the gangster snapped, trying to hide her fear. Inwardly, she felt really embarrassed that somebody discovered her secret.

But the shoemaker held it up and couldn't help but study its handiwork. "Look at this chamaco, look at this needlework!" Héctor marveled. "This is amazing! Not one stitch out of place!" His nephew got a better look.

"Whoa, that's really good!" Miguel added.

"Such detail, such handiwork, such beauty! I've never seen such creative nightgowns like these before!" The shoemaker turned to the gangster who was holding her arm. "You have lots of talent!"

Imelda blushed, feeling flattered. His praise almost made her forget her embarrassment. But upon remembering her gang, she shook her head. "Yes, yes, yes, I know," she said, waving it off. "Now can you please give me back my nightgown?"

"Okay, okay," Héctor chuckled, giving the dress back to her.

"Gracias," she responded. "Ahora no le digas a mi pandilla sobre esto o de lo contrario te patearé por detrás. ¿Entender? ¡Se suponía que nadie más lo sabía!"

"¡Por supuesto!" Héctor answered, smiling a bit sheepishly. "But sewing is nothing to be embarrassed about. Hazo zapatos y a veces ropa."

"He even made underwear!" Miguel added.

Mirabel put her hand to her mouth and giggled.

"Very funny, chamaco!" Héctor frowned, crossing his arms and with a reddened face. "That was only one time!"

If one looked closely at Imelda, they'd see her trying to hide a small smile with her homemade fan. "So… did you come here to scare me or to ask me for your freedom?"

"Neither," the shoemaker shook his head. "We came to tell you that Natalia is back with the ingredients for Frida's antidote."

"Yeah, for the love potion," Miguel nodded.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Mirabel beamed, clasping her hands. "Isn't it Imelda?"

The woman wanted to smile, jump for joy, anything. But some cloud of worry was hanging over her, keeping her from being wholly happy. "No lo sé…will it work?"

"Of course, it'll work!" The shoemaker smiled, confidently. "I trust Frida, don't you?"

"Sí, pero-"

"Then I see nothing to worry about," he shrugged. "Come on downstairs!"

The woman sighed when her secret crush motioned her to follow him. "Stephanie, stay here with the animals. You too, gatito."

"Swell!" Miguel smiled. "Maybe Mi-Stephanie can tell me how she ran away "

"Hey, no fair!" Mirabel frowned. "Imelda!"

"Seems fair to me," the woman said, gently.

"Fine!" Mirabel scowled, crossing her arms. "I did promise him after all."

"Be patient with her, chamaco," Héctor whispered to his nephew.

The boy nodded.

Once the shoemaker and the gangster left the room, the tween boy turned to the tween girl. "Now can you please tell me why you ran away?"

"Yes, but you are not going to like it," the girl wanted him.

"I can handle it," the boy said, puffing his chest up like a wrestler. "It can't be that bad. Don't you miss your family?"

Mirabel went to Imelda's dresser. Hopping on her little chair, she pulled something from Imelda's little jewelry box. It looked like a golden chain with a locket. The girl opened it which showed a photo of her family. Her uncle Bruno had made a small copy of the family photo for her locket, which was bestowed to Mirabel on her eighth birthday. "Of course I do," she finally answered. A bittersweet smile danced across her features. "I hate to admit it, but sometimes I wonder if they were thinking of me."

Breathing out a sad sigh, the girl held the locket against her heart, her eyes full of grief. Her lips almost automatically began singing her thoughts since that fateful day.

"Home is not a place"

"An address you memorize"

"It's more than a studio"

"Or a Gothic mansion,"

"It's where you never feel lonely"

"Whenever you're alone"

"That's how you know you are home"

"How I wish that I can feel that"

"Somehow right now"

"How I wish I can feel that again"

Mirabel glanced at the old family photo again. This time, her narrowed eyes landed on the matriarch of the Madrigals.

"How I wish you could remember

"Just once right now, maybe we'll find it again…."

"Home is like a smile"

"You see in a photograph"

"No matter what you do"

"It's not supposed to change"

"Why can't we all be together"

"The way we used to be"

"Back on the ground"

"No more racing around"

"Here, safe and sound,"

"...And home…."

Pepita strutted on the floor and rubbed itself against Mirabel's legs. The girl kneeled and wrapped her arms around the cat.

"Whoa, that's so sad," Miguel spoke a bit awkwardly and nervously. He almost felt emotional about the song. "But it doesn't answer my question."

"All right," Mirabel sighed, rolling her eyes naturally. She was half amused and half annoyed by her old best friend's whining. "But you have to sit down on the other chair because this is going to be a long story."

"Okay," the boy replied, patiently. He sat down in the chair that Imelda was sitting on earlier. "Whatever you say."

As the children were making themselves comfortable in their chairs, their pets stood in the corner of the room and conversed with each other in their animal speech.

'Why must you chase me?' Pepita asked the dog, feeling annoyed.

'Because it's fun!' Dante answered, happily. His tongue was hanging out as usual.

The cat rolled its eyes. 'Well, don't do that again! I don't like it!'

'Okay.' Dante said, feeling a bit sheepishly. He forgot that the cat doesn't like to be chased by dogs.