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The memory of Isabela’s quinceañera had been seared into Mirabel’s brains from the moment her eyes first landed on the brilliant venue, so even seven years later, she could vividly recall it.
The beautiful flora that lined Casita, dressing the interior as though it were some fantastical greenhouse with roses, tulips, and sunflowers; the stunning purples and pink hues of Isa’s floral dress and how beautiful she looked in it; the way the chambelanes escorted Isa through the front doors, all fifteen boys unable to resist the urge to gawk at how regal she looked; the strumming strings of the mariachi’s cellos and violins that mixed with the horns of the trumpets and trombones in perfect symbiosis — Mirabel could recall all of it just as much as she the day itself.
“You okay, mija? ” Mami paused doing her makeup, cupping her cheeks — and nearly ruining the foundation she had just laid — as she looked at her softly.
Mirabel hummed. “Just feeling nostalgic.”
Quite simply, Isa’s quinceañera had been a ball fit for the princesa perfecta she and the rest of the familia had built her up to be. The entire village had shown up for the occasion, families bearing loads of gifts and mothers dressing up their boys and coaxing them to try their best to make the eldest Madrigal child fall head over heels for them — though Isa met each with a smile, some sweet words, and a polite rejection. If she hadn’t thought it before, that day made Mirabel realize that Isa was the center of the world, and she was a mere spectator who could only hope to have a quinceañera half as good when she turned fifteen.
And as much as Mirabel hated Isa’s narcissism and arrogance, Mirabel knew that she deserved all the attention. She had the perfect Gift, made the family proud, and never failed to make any villager smile, and Mirabel wanted to be everything Isa was — minus the self-centeredness and rude comments. That quinceañera had been quite the defining moment that made Mirabel double down and decide to compensate for her lack of a Gift to try the best she could to help her family out.
Dolores and Luisa’s quinceañeras came and went, and though they weren’t as extravagant, they were still special days each had been just as proud of.
Mirabel wished she could say that she had been as happy after her quinceañera as when it had started.
“ Corazón, what’s wrong?” Mami asked as she zipped Mirabel dressed up from the back. Through the mirror, Mirabel could see her mother rest her hands on her shoulders and admire how her daughter looked. “You’re in such a beautiful dress, and yet you’re not even smiling.”
“I…” She briefly considered lying before meeting Mami’ concerned face in the mirror. She only spared a glance at how the dress looked on her. “I was just thinking about last year.”
Mami frowned. “ Lo siento . It wasn’t fair to you that we didn’t put enough effort into that day, and it makes me feel worse that it took us so long to make it up to you.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, it’s not like you could’ve controlled things.” How could Mami have known that most of the village wouldn’t show up, or that Tia Pepa would bring a wave of rain and thunder when Tio Felix accidently let it slip that her quinceañera also had been the tenth anniversary of Tio Bruno’s disappearance? And she knew her mother hadn’t purposely decided to arrange the decorations, cake, and music to be less than extravagant.
“But I could’ve done even more to make sure that your day was as special as you, and I didn’t.” The melancholic lull in her mother’s voice made Mirabel’s heart ache. “I know we’re all itching to do this because we want you to have the quinceañera you deserve, but I don’t want you to feel pressured. I’ll cancel everything right now if you don’t want this.”
“It’s okay, Mami, I want this, besides, I think Abuela and Papi would be more than a little annoyed considering how long it took them to arrange this.” Mirabel giggled. Not every girl got two quinceañeras.
“Oh please, it’s my wonderful mija’s day, and whatever she says goes. And they’ll have to go through me if they have any objections, though I can’t imagine they will.” She clung onto Mirabel’s arm happily.
“You’re right. But I don’t want you, or anyone in the family, to feel guilty about what happened last year. What made me the most sad that day is that I kept comparing it to Isa’s quinceañera.” She’d never dared to think that her family played favorites, though with how her situation was it felt like they did and if you’d ask her last year she’d hastily agree that she was far from Abuela’s; however, it was easy to see that her quinceañera had nowhere near the same love and effort put into it as Isa’s. “Even that day, it still felt like I was just a spectator to everyone else.”
Guilt clouded Mami’s eyes, and Mirabel opened her mouth to speak, but someone else’s voice cut her off
“I’m sorry too.”
Reflecting off the mirror, the image of Isa stepping into the room made Mirabel’s heart race.
“How much did you hear?” Mirabel asked worriedly, heat rushing to her cheeks as she spun around.
“Everything.” Isa’s lips frowned, the sad expression on her face jarringly contrasting the bright multi-dyed hues of her straight hair. “I never knew you felt that way.”
“Well I never told anyone, you don’t have a reason to be sorry,” Mirabel said wryly.
Isa’s hand clung to her arm shamefully, and she looked away. “You must have hated me for it.”
Mirabel shook her head. “I was a little angry at you, but honestly I was more envious.” Isa looked confused. “You always seemed to effortlessly make everyone proud, and I would always try so hard to follow your lead and never could. It was obvious to me that you deserved a party so amazing, and at the time I figured that I hadn’t done enough to shine as bright as you had.”
“And you didn’t?” Isa blurted, guilt making her face scrunch. She took Mirabel’s silence as a sign to keep talking. “Whenever I saw you trying your best to help out, I’d tell you to stay out of the way, I’d call you useless, I’d tell you that you always mess things up… I’ve been such a terrible hermanita, if I were you I would’ve hated me. Why did you ever want to be like me?”
“Because Isa… everyone loves you, and I wanted everyone to love me just as much.” The words left her dry, and seemed to linger in the room for a second.
“Well I was a horrible role model.”
“Oh for sure,” Mirabel blurted with a snort, and Isa elbowed her for how fast she responded. “But ironically enough, I think the parts of you that I wanted to be don’t really fit either of us.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well I love how colorful and wonderfully imperfect mi hija has shown me she’s always been…” Mami grabbed Isa by the cheek and kissed her cheek in rapid-fire, ignoring Isa’s struggle and giggles. Mirabel jumped when her mother rounded on her and repeated the onslaught. “And I love my special, beautiful, smart ninita just as she’s always been. That perfecta persona of yours is nothing compared to the two girls that stand in front of me.”
“Okay, okay, but if you keep kissing me we’ll miss the party!” Mirabel laughed as her mother finally let go of her.
“Fine, I do have to finish getting ready myself.” She gave a happy sigh as she patted her daughter’s shoulders. “Isa help your sister fix her hair and then lead her to the stairs when you’re done.” Mami lingered in the doorways momentarily, beaming proudly at both her daughters before exiting.
Isa swiveled the chair Mirabel sat on back to the mirror, eyeing how her younger hermanita looked. “Mira, this has to be the dress you’ve made yet, you look amazing.”
“It better be, it took me weeks to finish it.” Mirabel eyed the embroidery running along the blueish-green dress. The threads shaped as butterflies and stars swirled around her dress like a ribbon twirled around her. If her favorite dress that she normally wore was a piece she’d made to symbolize her love of her family, this dress was made to symbolize everything she loved about herself. Gazing at herself in the mirror, she honestly did think she looked amazing, and her mother had always been great at makeup. “You really think I look good?”
“Of course, but you’re just missing one thing.”
Isa gingerly adjusted her glasses before a bright crown of violet flowers blossomed to life in her fingertips. Mirabel smiled as Isa nestled the crown of phloxes, her favorite flower that always attracted butterflies, into her curly hair, the purple petals contrasting the colors of her dress wonderfully.
“Perfect,” Isa said, kissing her sister’s cheek. Mirabel rolled her eyes, and Isa snorted. “Trust me, that’s gonna be far from the last kiss you get from the family tonight, so get ready.”
Mirabel snorted. She wouldn’t admit aloud that she was looking forward to it.
“And Mira, lo siento again.”
“Isa, I already said you have nothing to be sorry about.”
“Not for your quinceañera, for being such a bad hermanita . It’s going to take a long time to make it up to you, but I promise I’ll make sure tonight is the best night ever for you.”
“Gracias Isa.” Mirabel wrapped her arms around her sister. “And you do know I’ve already forgiven you, right?”
“I know, but that doesn’t make me feel any less guilty,” Isa said as she hugged her back. “Being here for you is the least I can do. Now, come on, everyone’s waiting for you.”
“How many people showed up for this?”
Isa smirked. “Step through those doors and find out. Are you ready?”
Mirabel took a deep breath to steel herself, as she stepped to the doorknob. With a smile, she looked to Isa. “Ready.”
Turning the knob, she moved through the doors’ threshold into the brightly lit interior of the second floor balcony that overlooked the main lobby. A sea of heads turned to her at the top of the steps. What had to be the entire population of the Encanto had to be standing there, eyes lighting up as she and her dress came into full view. Then, Mirabel’s attention was attracted to how the entire house was decorated.
Just as any grand Colombian occasion was decorated, brilliant streamers of pastel colors strung from the walls, but what really caught her eye was the kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering through the entire room in a flowing pattern of oranges and yellows. She immediately searched the entire room, and her eyes landed on Antonio, whose hands were folded behind his back as he flashed her a toothy grin. Ay, she’d give him the biggest hug he’d ever had later.
One butterfly landed on her floral crown, and Mirabel gingerly let it inch onto her finger.
Down below, Camilo grinned and began to clap wildly, sending the crowd into a chorus of applause that nearly made Mirabel fall to her knees. She could spot Abuela, Mami, Papi, Tio Bruno, Dolores, Tia Pepa, and Tio Felix all proudly smiling at her from down below.
“ ¡Feliz cumpleaños Mirabel!” The cheer from the entire village felt almost deafening, and Casita flipped a series of tiles to give a birthday cheer of its own.
Perhaps it was vain to attach so much value and happiness to something as trivial as a birthday party, but it was one of those moments that Mirabel relished in being a normal girl — or as normal as a Madrigal could get. All the attention, all the smiles, the way all of her family looked so proud to see who she had become, and how beautiful Casita looked. It was all so overwhelming. So much so that she couldn’t help but cry.
“Mira, are you okay?” Isa quickly said, rushing to her side.
Mirabel nodded, eyes chock full of tears. “I’m just really happy right now.”
In the past year, Mirabel Madrigal had grown, but she hadn’t become a different person. Despite healing what was broken, she hadn’t become Isabela, nor had her patience for a miraculous sudden Gift been granted. Those had always been two of the conditions she’d imagined she’d have to receive the adoration, admiration, and love from her family that she always wanted. But right now she was just Mirabel Madrigal, and because she was Mirabel Madrigal, they loved her.
And that’s all the sixteen-year old ever wanted.