Archive of Our Own ^beta

Daniela walks out through the front door of her Inn, on her way to put out a job advertisement in the newspaper, when she is greeted by the sight of a young girl vomiting in her garden with an older man soothingly rubbing her back.

Now, she’s had her business for 50 years at this point, so this wasn’t the first time she was seeing a person throwing up in her garden. Mostly because of drunken idiots from the bar down the street.   

The girl straightens up and the man hands her a canteen. She smiles gratefully. Daniela watches them for a moment as the man worriedly whispers, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m just sorry that we’re doing this on your birthday.”

The man shakes his head with a concerned frown, “That doesn’t matter right now. I mean, are you okay after what those men said?”

“Yes.” She looks at the older man’s face and frowns. “No- I don’t know! It doesn’t matter since we both didn’t…”

She trails off and the man looks down sadly. He hesitantly says, “If you let me do another vis-“

“NO!” Daniela jumps at the ferocity in the girl’s voice, while the man just looks irritated. Daniela watches in concern as the girl continues, “You can’t do another one- It gets us money for food, sure, but the more you do, the more you get migraines and nose bleeds. I can’t let you keep hurting yourself like that, it’s why we need-“

 The man opens his mouth to interrupt and argue back, but Daniela did not want a domestic fight started on the lawn of her business, thank you very much.

“Hola! You both okay out here?”

They both turn to look at her and she’s struck by how similar their round, surprised eyes are. Their height too. And their curly hair. Which was strange to think because they also looked nothing alike. She didn’t know how to explain it. They looked similar but also didn’t. Maybe they were related? The man looked old enough to be her father.

The girl speaks first with a polite smile, “Thank you, but we’re fine. We just came back from a job interview and well…” She shares a look with the man, who sadly stares back.

He continues for her and bitterly says, “They wouldn’t give my wife a job because she’s pregnant. They said, ‘What was the point if she was going to be off from work in a few months anyway?’”

‘Oh, they’re married,’ She notes as her eyes dart to the rings on their fingers. The clear age gap between them raised some flags for her, but so far, the man seemed to actually care about his young pregnant wife by the way he was talking. Which is more than she can say about her Santino, that’s for sure (Burn in Hell, you scum).

The girl holds the man’s hand and looks at him adoringly. He turns his head to share the same look of love, and Daniela feels her heart melt for the both of them.

“Bruno was offered a job with them, but he said he wouldn’t take the job if I couldn’t work too,” She chuckles darkly and looks away. “Instead of giving me the job as well, they just turned him away.”

The man, Bruno, brings her hand up to his face and kisses her knuckles. “It’s not your fault, Mirabel.”

“He’s right, you know.”

They both turn to look at her and she smiles sympathetically, “It’s not your fault, or your husband’s. Some people are just indifferent to others in need.”

“Thanks.” Mirabel smiles hesitantly.

“Nothing to thank me for. But do tell me,” She nods towards Mirabel’s stomach. “How far along are you?”

Mirabel looks at Bruno who seems to be trying to calculate the dates in his head. She turns back to Daniela and sheepishly smiles, “We don’t really know. Maybe three months? Maybe four?”

Daniela frowns. How could they not know? “You haven’t been to see a doctor?”

Mirabel and Bruno share a silent conversation with their eyes and Daniela sighs in disappointment. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

Mirabel’s cheeks redden, while Bruno looks like a chastised little boy. Then Mirabel blurts out, “We’re having twins!”

Daniela sends her a look of confusion. “How do you know that if you haven’t been to the doctor?”

A panicked look crosses the girl’s face and Bruno laughs loudly and awkwardly, “Just parent’s intuition- You know how it is.”

Doubt bleeds through her voice as she says, “Riiiight. Are you two from around here? I don’t think I’ve seen either of you before.”

“N-no,” Mirabel nervously answers, “We’re from a little town a couple of hours away from here. Our families didn’t really… approve… our relationship. We’ve been in town a couple of weeks looking for work and to settle down.” The girl places a hand onto her stomach and sadly looks at her husband. He wraps and arm around her shoulders in comfort.

Daniela studies the both of them. She felt for their struggle. They didn’t look good; they looked exhausted and scared. Like two people who just needed someone to give them a chance. She sighs, “Alright. Where are you staying?”

Bruno holds Mirabel a little tighter and says, “We were staying at the motel on the other side of town, but we’ve, ah, been camping out recently.”

Alarm rings through her. They were… homeless? No wonder they haven’t seen a doctor! Well, she can’t sit idly by and leave them to fend for themselves. Aren’t they lucky that they happened to throw up in her garden?

Daniela smiles warmly, “Well, now you won’t have to.”

She points to her building and says, “This here is La Rosa Inn in our beautiful town of Descanso, and I own the place. You’re free to stay as long as you need.”

“B-but… we don’t have any money to pay for a room. We only have enough for a couple of weeks’ worth of food,” Mirabel says, shamefaced.

Daniela waves her words away. “It’s fine! I’ll give you board while you work at my Inn. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you your share as well. That way, you can find your own place once you’ve got yourself back on your feet.”

“Señora, w-we couldn’t-“

“It’s fine,” She firmly states. “You’re really lucky that I needed a couple new workers since my daughter and her husband walked out on me.”

Bruno stares at her with wide, thankful eyes, and Mirabel’s lip trembles. The girl flings herself at Daniela at record speeds and hugs her tight, and she whispers, “Gracias, gracias.”

She pats the girl’s back, “You’re welcome.” Daniela gently pushes Mirabel away from her and declares, “Now! Go get your stuff and come back here. I’ll teach you everything you need to know about the job.”

Mirabel smiles tearfully, but then she freezes. She croaks, “Morning sickness.” And she runs back to the garden and proceeds to throw up again.

Bruno winces and catches Daniela’s eye. He awkwardly shrugs his shoulders and grins uncertainly, “Sorry. S-she’ll be done in a minute.”

Daniela flicks her eyes between the vomiting pregnant girl, and the much older, awkward husband. These two were certainly… different.

“As long as this is the only time you do this to my garden, then it’s fine.”

From her place bent over in the bushes, Mirabel gives a thumbs up. At the same time, Bruno gives his own thumbs up and nervously laughs.

Daniela smiles.

Truly strange, indeed.

…..

20th Feb, 1954.

After hours of intense pain, screaming, crying, almost breaking Bruno's fingers, and then relief, their twins are born.

Mirabel is exhausted. She wants to pass out and sleep for 20 years, but she can't. Not when she's holding 2 new people she loves more than anything.

Not when Bruno was sitting beside her, in awe and close to tears. Mirabel tiredly smiles up at him. "Look at what we made, Bruno."

He wraps an arm around her shoulders and leans his head against hers. "They're a gift." He shifts his head to kiss her temple, "You did so well."

She chuckles and leans away to look at him. "You did half the work, you know."

"The beginning, sure. But the second and longest part was all you."

Mirabel rolls her eyes affectionately. "Yeah, yeah."

She softly gazes on their little boy and girl, who are nice and snug in their swaddles, sleeping soundly.

"We have to give them names. Any from the list coming to mind?"

Bruno gently grazes his knuckle along the baby girl's cheek. Her face scrunches for a moment and then smooths out into a tiny little smile. Mirabel's heart sweetens at the sight of Bruno looking down adoringly at their baby girl. He whispers, "Beatriz. I like Beatriz."

She looks at him in question. Mirabel likes the name but... "Why that one?"

He slowly smiles, "It means: 'She who brings happiness.'"

Mirabel mirrors his smile, "I definitely like it. Beatriz, she is then."

Bruno shifts his hand to stroke the baby boy's cheek while he looks lost in thought. The child frowns and grumbles in his sleep. Mirabel watches them for a moment until she says, "There's a boy’s name I've always liked..."

"Was it on our list?"

She nods. "Yeah. I like 'Oscar'. When I look at him, something in my gut says that's his name. Does that make sense?"

Bruno grins, "That makes perfect sense. Oscar, it is then!"

“We need to send a letter to Antonio to let him know about his two new cousins.”

“We will,” Bruno tucks her hair behind her ear for her and smiles, “We’ll do it once we’re all home.”

The nurse comes into the room then and quietly says, "It's time to let our new mother rest, so we’ll need to take the babies and check them over while you do that."

Mirabel is tired but she doesn't want to let the twins go. Her little Beatriz and Oscar. She looks to Bruno in a silent plea.

He sighs. "You need your sleep, Mirabel."

"But..."

"How about this?" He tilts his head with a sympathetic smile, "I'll go with Oscar and Beatriz and watch their check-up, and I'll be with them every step of the way."

Before Mirabel can answer, the nurse says, "Señor, its... unusual... to have the father watch the check-up, and we already allowed you into the delivery room despite our protests. You should sit here with your wife and rest."

Bruno, usually meek in the face of confrontation, stands up with a hardened look in his eye. "Just because no one around here understands that partners should be in the delivery room, doesn't mean I should listen to you. Sometimes you can’t rush the future but this time, I’m making an exception; I'm skipping ahead and I’m going with you whether you like it or not."

Mirabel watches on with an amused smile as she remembers when they had arrived at the hospital once her contractions had started. Bruno had insisted on being in the delivery room, but they had refused since husbands weren’t allowed in. Bruno had argued, something he only does when he's really pushed to his limit, and Mirabel couldn’t have been prouder.

Then the hospital staff had kicked him out of the room, despite Mirabel's and Bruno’s protests.

And then he would keep sneaking in.

The midwife would look at the door where Bruno moodily watched, then turn around to help Mirabel. She would then turn around again and see Bruno sneaking in through the window. Despite the pain, Mirabel couldn't help but laugh. She just shrugged at the baffled nurse with a grin. That's her husband for you; he climbs 3 storey buildings just to be with her!

They kept getting an orderly to take him out, but after being caught halfway through his 4th attempt with Mirabel opening the air vents in the bathroom for Bruno to crawl out of, they decided to just let him in.

And Mirabel had been so grateful.

She didn’t have anyone to support her except him, and he knew that. Bruno was trying his best to make up for the loss of their family that they had abandoned, and his efforts meant the world to her. She will now never forget the shared look of excitement and wonder as they heard the first cry of Oscar, and then an hour later, Beatriz.

Bruno turns to Mirabel, "Give the twins to me, Mira."

Liking his commanding attitude, Mirabel grins and offers up the twins. "Sure, mi amor."

With a stubborn set to his mouth, Bruno bends down and they both work together to get the twins into his arms. Once Oscar and Beatriz are comfortable, Bruno turns to the nurse with his head held high, daring her to argue.

The nurse sighs in defeat, "You'll just crawl through the walls or something to be with them, won't you?"

"Señora, I think I know a thing or two about being behind walls. So, the answer is yes."

Mirabel snorts with laughter. HA! Walls!

Whoa. Maybe she really IS tired.

The nurse looks at them both in bafflement. "Right, well, come along then Señor."

She walks out and Bruno goes to follow but stops. He quickly bends down to press a kiss to her head as she shuffles down into her bed to get more comfortable.

"Thank you, Mirabel."

Eyes beginning to droop, she says, "What for?"

He smiles widely, genuinely. "For everything."

Mirabel's eyes fall shut and her head feels light. Maybe they were right. Maybe she needed a rest. She mumbles, "Te amo."

And then she drifts into the land of dreams with an answering love whispered into her ear.

….

“Happy Birthday, Mirabel!”

Bruno tries to keep his voice hushed as he grips a boxed gift behind his back, making sure the 2-week-old twins stay asleep from their hour-long nap. He didn’t want to break the streak just yet.

Mirabel smiles tiredly from the sofa and he knows her eye bags now match his due to the twins sleeping schedule.

It was something they were still trying to get used to.

“Thanks, Bruno.”

He grins, trying to bring her energy up. “How do you feel now that you’re 19?”

“Tired.”

His grin turns awkward, so he just slowly nods instead. He understands how she feels; all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and get as much sleep as possible before the twins made themselves known. But he can’t. It was Mirabel’s birthday; how could he not make it a happy day?

“Right, well, I got you a present that I hope you’ll like.”

Mirabel curiously looks up at him and his heart flutters with hope.

Bruno produces the wrapped box from behind his back with a small flourish which makes her quietly giggle.

She takes the box from him and studies the brown paper coloured with his crude drawings of cartoon rats. Mirabel raises an eyebrow at him in question. He waves it away and says, “The brown paper was all I could find, and I thought the rats would make it cute.”

Like the sun breaking through the clouds, Mirabel smiles warmly, something he feels he hasn’t seen in a while since the babies have been born. Anxiety clenches his heart at the thought, but he pushes it to the side for now.

Mirabel carefully unwraps the paper, making sure to not rip it. Once she gently folds the wrapping paper and puts it to the side, she opens the box.

She gasps and pulls out a plate decorated with a colourful assortment of butterflies and needles and thread with her name on it. She studies it and rubs her thumb over her name.

Bruno, still a little unsure how she felt about it, starts rambling nervously, “I thought we could keep up the tradition of plates with our names on them.” He reaches into the box and pulls out another three plates. One had his name on it with green hourglasses and little rats. The other two were blank except for the names of the twins. “See? There’s one for you and me, and even Oscar and Beatriz- they can decorate it however they like in the future.”

And if they have any more children, well, he can just get more plates.

“Bruno…” Mirabel whispers as she looks up at him in awe, “This is beautiful. Thank you. I don’t even know what to say…”

He gently puts the plates down on the coffee table and rubs his arm, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. She puts her plate on top of the others and stands up. She leans in and kisses his cheek, making his heart clench.

Mirabel opens her mouth to say something when the sound of a baby crying gets their attention. She sighs and turns for the bedroom, and Bruno follows. They find Beatriz crying with Oscar awake and alert. By now, Mirabel and Bruno have agreed that the way they can tell the two apart is by Oscar’s nose which is shaped like Bruno’s. Poor kid.

Before Bruno can get in to help, Mirabel lifts them into each of her arms and rocks them.

“I can take one of them, if you want.”

“No, I- I can do it.”

That earlier anxiety comes back, and he frowns in concern. “I know you can, but-”

“No!” Her eyes blaze with irritation and sleep deprivation, and it only makes Bruno more worried. “I can look after them just as well as anyone else. I’m not- I’m not broken, Bruno…”

“…I never said you were.”

Bruno carefully watches her. His instincts were right; she wasn’t fine. He had a feeling he knew what this was (thank God for involuntary future visions of random information). He can’t ignore this or denial it away- it would only makes things worse for her. For all of them.

So, he smiles sympathetically and says, “You’re doing so well. I just hope you know that all of us love you. I mean- just look at how the twins look at you!”

Mirabel looks down at the babies in her arms and Bruno watches as they stare up at her like she was amazing. Like she really was a miracle in their eyes. Her irritation melts away and her bottom lip trembles and tears shine in her eyes with such love and happiness that it almost knocks Bruno out.

He quietly says, “Are you okay?”

She nods and sniffles. “I’m just really happy right now. I’ve been waiting on a miracle for so long that I don’t know what to do when they’re lying in my arms. I can see their love for me- for us- and it blows my mind that they look at us like that.”

Bruno chuckles as he comes to stand beside her with an arm wrapped around her waist. He kisses her temple and says, “I get you. It’s scary and overwhelming and-“

“Wonderful.” Mirabel quietly finishes for him. He admires her soft, adoring look at their children, and he missed seeing her so happy.

“And wonderful,” He agrees with a nod. “But I also think you haven’t been feeling completely fine. Have you?”

Her tears fall harder as she looks at him with her big sad eyes. She shakes her head.

Bruno hugs her tighter against him, wanting to give her every drop of his warmth to her. “Want to talk about it?”

Mirabel swallows. “I… I guess I just feel flat. I can’t explain it. I love the twins but I’m struggling to find the energy when it comes to them.”

Her lip wobbles and she sobs, “Does that make me a bad mother? Do you think I wouldn’t be like this if we never left the family? They’re a miracle- our little miracles- but I’m letting them down. I’m breaking another miracle!”

Bruno’s heart breaks for her. He didn’t even realise she was feeling like this. He needed to get better at catching onto this sort of stuff sooner, but Mirabel also had many years under her belt of keeping it all in. 

The twins, sensing their mother’s emotions, start making sounds of distress. Before Mirabel can feel even more guilty about them, Bruno takes them into his arms with no resistance from her and puts them back into their cots. They settle down and happily watch the spinning mobile above them.

Bruno guides her out of the room, and they stand just outside the twins’ open door, just in case they’re needed.

He then embraces her tightly, needing her to feel how much he cares, “What you’re feeling is normal. The future calls it ‘postpartum depression’ and it happens in mothers a lot. It would have happened whether we were back at home or here- the only difference is that your guilt is making it ten times worse.”

He pulls away and wipes the tears from her face with a sad smile. “You didn’t break the miracle, Abuela did. You were the one who fixed it with your love. You’re not breaking Oscar and Beatriz, I promise. Your love for them only helps them grow.”

Mirabel studies his face and then leans her face into his hands that cup her face. She doesn’t say anything, but he can tell she’s thinking on his words.

Bruno leans his forehead onto hers and softly says, “Please tell me next time when you’re feeling like this because I want to support you- I love you. I’ll even find someone you can talk to who might understand what you’re feeling.”

“Do…Do you think I can get better?”

Bruno knows that feelings like this don’t just magically disappear because of some reassurances. She needed time and people to support her; to listen to her. He knows he’s in her corner, and maybe even their boss and a few work friends, but he also knows she’s missing the support of their large family.

And he knows he’ll try to be the best family for her as he can.

He smiles warmly. “I think you won’t feel as bad as you do now, and you’ll be able to be the mother you want to be for the twins. These feelings will linger but you’ll be strong enough to not give in to them as much. And I’ll be right with you, every step of the way.”

Tears fall from her eyes, but her smile holds a hope for the future.

And Bruno knows she’ll be okay.   

.....

"Pa, pa, papapa."

Standing in the kitchen of their new home doing the dishes, Mirabel and Bruno freeze.

They share a look. Was that...?

They turn to look at 1-year-old Beatriz who grins in her highchair with sparkling green eyes, just like Bruno’s, and says, "Pa pa pa pa!"

Mirabel grabs the drying towel from Bruno’s slack grip and quickly dries her hands. Excitedly, she walks over to the twins in their highchairs. “What did you say? Did you say-?”

Clearly thriving from her Mami’s excitement, Beatriz slaps her hands on the highchair’s little table and bounces in the seat. She loudly says, “PA Pa pa PA PA pa pa pa!”

A little squeal of excitement escapes Mirabel’s throat. “Oh my god! Her first word! Bruno, she’s saying ‘Papa’!”

She looks over her shoulder to see Bruno with a goofy smile. Mirabel indicates with her head to come closer because he can’t sit back and watch this. She would never let him watch from the sidelines again. Especially not after how he’s been an amazing support to her while she had been working on her depression.

He comes closer and Beatriz’s eyes latch onto him. She reaches out her hands and makes grabby motions and shouts, “Pa! Pa! Pa! PA!”

Mirabel’s melts as she sees tears shining in Bruno’s eyes as Beatriz recognises him as her Papi. Mirabel places a hand on Bruno’s shoulder and rubs it encouragingly. He gently grabs one of Beatriz’s hands and softly says, “Yeah, that’s right. I’m your Papi.”

Oscar, who was quietly watching all of this happen with his own dark brown eyes like Mirabel’s, seems to decide that enough was enough. He calls out, “Pa! Pa! Pa!”

Mirabel excitedly squeals again. She knows Oscar was only copying Beatriz because the attention it got her but, gosh damn, she didn’t care! “It’s Oscar’s first word too! I can’t believe it!”

Bruno lets Beatriz play with his hand as he stares in wonder at Oscar. Mirabel catches Bruno’s eye and smirks. "I guess they really want to talk about Papi, huh?"

He shakily smiles but then covers his eyes, and a weak sob is pulled from his throat. Concern swirls within her. She turns him so she can wrap her arms around him in a hug and he buries his face into her neck and clutches onto her.

“Shhh,” Mirabel rubs his shaking back soothingly, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Next to her ear, he softly croaks, “I-I’m so happy and relieved! I didn’t realise how much I needed to know that they really do see me as their father. I love them so much, but I don’t think I’m enough- I don’t know what a father is supposed to be like! I’ve been winging this and it’s been so scary and I’m anxious and- and-“

Mirabel gently pulls him away to look into his red eyes, and she hates how sad and anxious he looks. She hates how she didn’t see it until now.

But she does see and, just like he supported her, she will support him.

She smiles sincerely and cups his face which he leans into, “You are enough, Bruno. You’re more than enough- for me AND the twins. I understand all of that anxiety and I want you to know that you are a wonderful father and partner. I promise you that the twins love you just as much as you do them.”

She lowers her hand and lifts his own to her face to kiss his knuckles to show her love. “And honestly, I’ve been winging this parenting thing too, but maybe from now on we can talk about it and wing it together rather than alone. Does that sound okay?”

He nods with a small watery smile.

Bruno seems to mentally shake his head, and then he turns unexpectedly from her, making her blink in surprise as his hand leaves her grip. He then bends down and kisses Beatriz’s head and then Oscar’s, and they both excitedly respond with, “Papapapapa!”

He then stands back up and wraps an arm around Mirabel’s waist, and deeply kisses her. She’s surprised by the sudden change in emotion, but she doesn’t mind since he’s currently making her swoon as she hums appreciatively against his lips.

He pulls away and Mirabel trails after his departing lips. She slowly opens her eyes, unaware that she had closed them, and is greeted with Bruno’s adoring face, still slightly red and wet from earlier. She whispers, “What was that for?”

“Oh, you know, thanking you. For giving me all of this. For loving me.” He grins with happiness and Mirabel’s breath gets taken away with it.

“Ooh? Really? Maybe show me one more time?” She hooks her arms around his neck and leans in to kiss him again.

But then a loud sound stops them. They both turn to see Oscar’s bowl and spoon on the floor and the child reaching towards it in futile. Beatriz giggles and copies the action by knocking her bowl and spoon off her little table.

Bruno and Mirabel sigh. He mutters, “How can they be so cute and yet…?”

She shrugs as she bends down to collect the fallen bowls. She pointedly looks him at him as he goes and gets a wet dish cloth to clean the food off the ground, and teasingly says, “Must be genetic.”

Bruno gives her a deadpan look. “If that was a dig at me, then it doesn’t really work.” He waves a hand between them sarcastically, “We are genetically related. That means we’re both cute and annoying.”

Oh. Yeah. I forgot we’re related. Her cheeks get hot in embarrassment as she takes the dishes to the sink to wash, but she tries to save it by coolly saying, “That just means the twins are double the cute and double the annoying.”

He thinks on it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Okay. That’s true.”

The twins start making frustrated sounds- Mirabel and Bruno’s que to let them know that the children were done and ready to play. Mirabel leaves the dishes for later and goes over to Beatriz, while Bruno to Oscar, and lets them out of their highchair prisons. They carry them to the lounge room and sit them down with their toys.

Before Bruno sits down to watch them play, Mirabel grabs his arm. He looks at her in confusion and she smiles. She leans next to his ear and whispers, “Show me how you want to thank me when the kids are asleep, okay?”

She places a small peck on his cheek and pulls away.

A red-faced Bruno trails his eyes down her body and then back to her face. He gulps and nods, making anticipation course through her.

She grins.

She can’t wait.

….

“¡Feliz Cumpleaños!”

The twins both giggle at the dining table with a cake in front of them that declares they officially turn 3 today.

Bruno grins down at the two birthday people and declares, “Who wants some good news before they get their presents?”

Beatriz raises her hand, making her dark curls bounce, and excitedly shouts, “Oh! Me! Me! Me!”

Oscar, used to the level of his sister’s voice right next to his ear, only smiles and nods. Bruno gives Mirabel an encouraging look, and she takes a deep breath to say, “You’re going to have a baby brother or sister!”

The twins stare at them for a moment until Beatriz shrieks in excitement, "A little brother or sister! Where are they?!”

Bruno and Mirabel share a small laugh and he answers, “They’re in Mami’s stomach growing. You won’t see them until August.”

“Awww. That’s too long!”

Oscar solemnly looks at them and asks, "Why?"

Bruno awkwardly averts his eyes. He knows Oscar’s asking about why they were getting a younger sibling and well…

He won’t say, "Well, when a mommy and a daddy, who are also uncle and niece, love each other very much, they have what's called 'sex'. And sometimes condoms like to break!" because that would be weird and too much for either of their 3-year-old brains.

He also won't say, "Getting your Mami pregnant does things to me." Cause again, weird.

Instead, he says, "Sometimes these things happen."

"But why?"

Bruno sighs, "Because your baby sister or brother really wants to come and meet you both."

Oscar slowly nods as Mirabel grins behind her hand. His son then asks, “Does Primo Antonio know?”

Bruno flicks his eyes to Mirabel. Antonio had sent them a letter asking if Mirabel was pregnant, because a new door had shown up, apparently. Neither of them had known of her condition until the letter sent them to a doctor to check.

She shrugs. Guess she’s right, there wasn’t any harm in telling the truth.

“He knows.”

Oscar seems calmed by his answer rather than jealous about his primo knowing first, which makes Bruno sigh in relief. Beatriz excitedly claps and asks, "Can you make them a girl, Mami?"

Mirabel opens her mouth to answer her, but is interrupted by Oscar who says, "No, make them a boy!"

Beatriz glares at him. "Girl!"

And Oscar glares right back. "Boy!"

Mirabel looks to Bruno, a little lost, and he just shrugs. What could he do? She rolls her eyes and puts a hand on each of the twin’s shoulder to stop them. "I can't make the baby into a boy or a girl. They'll come out a surprise."

Beatriz tilts her head in confusion. “A baby surprise? Not a boy or a girl?”

Oscar nods seriously, “A surprise. That’s better than a boy or a girl.”

Mirabel looks up at Bruno in confusion and he chuckles. Maybe his kids had his gift to know the future? “Don’t worry. It’s definitely a future thing. In about 50 years’ time, people are going to be more accepting of people with different genders.”

She raises a curious eyebrow. “There are different genders?” With his nod, she contemplates the idea.

“That’s pretty unique.” She looks up at him and grins, “I love it.”

Bruno’s heart melts for this woman who loves the world’s differences, including him, and he kisses her smile, just because he can. She makes a sound of surprise, but then her hand comes up to caress his face and kiss him deeper.

He’d love to keep going but he’s interrupted by his daughter gasping scandalously. They break away from each and look at the toddler standing on her chair with her hands on her hips. “Papi! Not fair! It’s MY and Oscar’s birthday. Where’s our kiss?!”

Oscar grumpily pouts and crosses his arms, in absolute agreement with his sister. Bruno and Mirabel share a look and then snort with laughter. Their kids were some cute little weirdos, huh?

Bruno leans down and smooches Oscar’s cheek as Mirabel does the same to Beatriz.

The twins smile warmly in utter happiness.

God, he loves them.

….

1^st August, 1957.

Mirabel goes into labour, and they leave the twins with their boss, Daniela, to look after them. A nurse takes one look at Bruno and mutters, “This guy again!” and informs the staff to just let him into the delivery room without any hassle.

After a few hours, Mirabel gives birth to a healthy baby girl.

With red hair.

She tiredly looks up to Bruno and sees the conflicted emotions of awe and sadness on his face.

Mirabel smiles sadly, “She reminds you of Tía Pepa, doesn’t she?”

His fingers gently brush through the sleeping baby’s hair, and he sighs. “Yeah, a little bit.”

It had been 4 years since they’d left the family and sometimes the wound would re-open.

Antonio’s letters were a balm for them both as he talked about himself, his animals, and sometimes the family. He even started writing letters to Oscar and Beatriz (read out by either Mirabel or Bruno) and the twins would write back (transcribed by their parents). The 12-year-old Tonito seemed to enjoy the twins’ drawings the most.

But now, looking at their little girl’s hair was a reminder of her tía. Of Bruno’s sister, which would lead him to think of his other triplet and the guilt surrounding that can of worms. Mirabel leans her head on his shoulder and says, “Me too. She reminds me of not just Pepa but of everyone.”

He leans his head onto hers and they stay in their warm little bubble of mutual support.

Meekly, she says, “Do you think everyone would love Beatriz and Oscar? Love our new baby?”

With a watery chuckle, he wraps an arm around her shoulders and says, “Oh, definitely. They’d equally love and hate the songs Beatriz sings. They’d want Oscar to keeping talking and also shut up about his love of dinosaurs. I don’t know who this little girl will be yet, but they’d love her red hair. Pepa would be smug that someone in the family finally matched her.”

Mirabel smiles, but a sob breaks through anyway. “I miss them.”

She hears Bruno sniffle and swallow loudly, and he whispers, “Me too.”

The nurse comes in then and the two of them quickly break apart and rub their eyes of their tears. She’s sure the nurse won’t question too deeply why they were crying since they just had a baby, and well, that’s a pretty emotional thing to happen.

The nurse softly smiles, “I’m here to take… I’m sorry, have you given her a name yet?”

Mirabel darts her eyes to Bruno who shrugs. They had a list but now that they’ve met the child, she didn’t fit any of the names. “Ah, no, not yet.”

The nurse nods, “That’s okay. You still have time.” The woman comes over to them and coos at the baby.

“Oh, how gorgeous! She has beautiful red hair.” She teasingly looks up at Mirabel, “One of you must have fire in your veins because I think you passed it onto her!”

Mirabel and Bruno freeze. They look at each other with a similar expression of revelation.

Fire. In Spanish it was Fuego. A feminine version was…

At the same time, they point to each other and blurt out, “Fuega!”

The nurse reels in confusion and looks between the two them. “Um. I’m sorry. What?”

Mirabel turns to the nurse with a grin. “Fuega. That’s her name.”

“O-oh. Okay. I’ll write it down for you now.”

Bruno smiles and Mirabel can’t help giving him one back. She holds the baby closer and kisses her head.

Into her fiery red baby hair, she whispers, “Welcome to the family, Fuega.”

…

“Oscar! I know you’ll miss Mami and Papi, but you have to go to Ms. López!” Mirabel exclaims as she tries to detangle her son from around her neck so he can go to his first day of kindergarten.

Oscar whines and clutches onto her tighter. How was he so strong?!

Bruno shifts the wriggling 7-month-old Fuega on his hip and puts a hand on Oscar’s back to rub it soothingly.

“Ms. López seems really nice, Osito. It’ll be okay. And look!” He points behind him to where the glasses wearing, gap-toothed Beatriz was already playing and chatting it up with another child. “Beatriz is having fun already! Don’t you want to go have fun with her?”

Oscar peeks a look at Beatriz with his round eyes, and they see the temptation in them. But then he buries his face back into Mirabel’s neck and shakes his head. Bruno and Mirabel heave an exhausted sigh.

Fuega shouts in annoyance at Bruno’s continued grip and Oscar suddenly sits up to look at her. He pats her soft red baby hair and says, “No, Foo. You stay with Papi. Only big kids can play here.”

Mirabel quickly jumps in, hoping, praying this will work, “That’s right, Oscar! Why don’t you show Foo why a little kid shouldn’t play here, huh?”

He seems to think about it for a second and then nods. Mirabel smiles in relief and puts him onto the floor.

Oscar grabs Bruno’s hand and walks to the books to point at them. “These are too hard for you, Foo.” He guides a smiling Bruno and a grumpy Fuega to the wooden blocks. “You will knock these down and hurt yourself, so you can’t play with them.”

Mirabel watches them with love as Oscar keeps explaining things to baby Fuega, and then walks over to the chatting Beatriz. She kneels down and says, “Beatita, we’re about to go, okay? You want to say goodbye to Mami?”

Beatriz stops her lengthy conversation with the child she’s just met and turns her green eyes onto her. She then giggles at Mirabel and turns back to the other child, ignoring what her mother said. Mirabel suspiciously studies her daughter. Oh no. I have a feeling…  

She stands up and waves Bruno over. He perks up when he sees her and then says something to Oscar who nods. They come over and Mirabel quietly says, “Beatriz is in denial.”

They share a look of understanding, and Bruno tightens his grip on Fuega and nods determinedly. “Okay. We can do this. She won’t ever accept it until it happens so, let’s go.”

Mirabel nods and sighs. Then she smiles at Beatriz and Oscar and cheerfully says, “Okay, Mami and Papi are leaving now! We hope you have a good day with Ms. López.”

Oscar pouts but seems to have accepted it when he mumbles, “Bye.”

Beatriz laughs at her again and says, “You’re so funny, Mami!”

Bruno rubs his face and whispers, “Oh no. She’s never been this deep in denial before.”

“There’s not much we can do but leave so-“ Mirabel shrugs helplessly and leans down to kiss Oscar’s and Beatriz’s head in succession. Bruno hands Fuega to Mirabel and does the same to the twins. They turn around and start walking out the door calling and waving goodbye. Once the door closes behind them, they both sigh.

Mirabel whispers, “3… 2… 1…”

A loud wail comes from behind the door and Bruno and Mirabel flinch. They turn to look at each other in pain. Fuega looks behind her in interest to the sound.

Bruno anxiously bites his nails. “W-we could just go back in and make sure she’s okay… right?”

Heart hurting, she reluctantly answers, “No, we can’t. She’ll just cry when we try to leave again.”

Bruno turns around and puts his hand on the doorknob. “Maybe just a peek. To see if she’s okay.”

“I-I don’t know…”

Bruno turns the knob and peeks through. Mirabel can’t take the wailing anymore, so she peeks too.

Beatriz sits on the floor, red in the face and sobbing her heart out. Ms. López tries to soothe the child, but it does nothing. Mirabel is about to march in there herself and go hug her daughter, and with the small little upset whine Bruno produces, she knows he is too.

But then a slow grin spreads over her face as she watches Oscar hug Beatriz.

The twins hold each other, and Beatriz’s sobs slowly subside. Oscar pulls away and grabs her hand. “Let’s go play with the dolls. You like dolls.”

Beatriz sniffles and follows him. “But you don’t like dolls, Oscar.”

“I like them. I just like Papi’s rats more.”

She nods like he was speaking a fact. “You’re right.”

Bruno closes the door, and Mirabel slides her hand into Bruno’s and says, “We have some pretty cute kids.”

He kisses Mirabel’s cheek and pulls away with a smile. “It’s because they take after you. Oscar has your kindness and Beatriz has your cheerful nature.”

“Then where did Oscar get his clinginess and Beatriz get her denial? Because it wasn’t from me.”

Bruno laughs, “Oh, that’s all me! But Fuega here-“ He leans down to Fuega in Mirabel’s arms and blows raspberries onto her cheek, making the little girl giggle. “-well, she has her mother’s insatiable need to be on the move all the time. Don’t you, Foo?”

Mirabel scoffs, “Like that’s a bad thing!” She lifts Fuega up to look into her brown eyes. “It’s not bad, is it, Foo? You and I are going to outrun the other three, aren’t we? We’re going to get so much done!”

Fuega babbles at her as if she was answering back and Mirabel sits her back onto her hip nodding. “Is that right? You certainly know how to tell a story like your Papi.”

Bruno brushes his hand though Fuega’s red hair, a little like Oscar did, and smiles, “Maybe Fuega and I should do the next telenovela showing together. Show them just how good you are.”

Fuega babbles back at him, and Mirabel admires the look of love on Bruno’s face.

In a hushed tone of adoration, he says, “That’s my girl.”

And Mirabel looks on her little family with a smile.

….

18-month-old Fuega screams and cries in Bruno's arms as Mirabel clutches the hands of the 5-year-old twins. As fast as they can without running, they try to make their way out of the shop.

Bruno feels his muscles straining against his daughters struggling and he feels like a villain for having to restrain her like this. Mirabel must see his guilty thoughts on his face because she sharply says, “Bruno, don't you dare give in to her.”

“But...”

“No! She needs to learn that just because she screams and cries, it doesn't mean she'll get what she wants. She is not having a lollipop!”

Fuega’s voice reaches levels he didn’t even know could be reached as she screeches, “Hate you! Hate you, hate you, hate you!”

His face scrunches up in pain. Oh god, hearing his youngest say that stung something fierce. "But-!"

“We're almost near the exit, just hold on!" From the corner of his eye, he sees Mirabel re-adjust her hold onto the twin’s hands for dear life.

His little Beatriz, who looks so much like her mother, with her curls and her dark green glasses worriedly asks, “Is Fuega okay?”

“She's fine! She's just being bossy!” Mirabel sounded so stressed out, and you know what, Bruno thought that was fair as Fuega kicks wildly in his arms.

Oscar, who had taken more after Bruno in the looks department with his big nose and big round eyes, says, “Isn't she always bossy?”

Beatriz cheerfully says, “If she's so sad then I can cheer her up!" Then she sucks in a breath, and Bruno already knows what’s coming.

“No, wait, Beatriz-!”

Then Beatriz proceeds to sing at the top of her lungs and the sound combines with Fuega's screams and shouts, and customers are looking their way with a mix of pity and annoyance.

Oscar, his dear Oscar, tries to help by shouting, "Foo, you need to be a good girl and be quiet! We can go home and play whatever you want!"

Bruno and Mirabel sigh in relief as they finally get to the exit without groceries with one screaming child, one singing child, and one shouting child who was trying to negotiate with a toddler.

Mirabel and Bruno share a look and then he shouts, trying to be heard over the noise, "Okay! We're going home!"

….

“Quick, Mira! Catch her!”

Mirabel snaps her head towards him with wide eyes, but then her eyes dart down to their naked 2-year-old daughter whose making her get away from her bath time.

“Fuega!”

Fuega squeals in excitement as she races pass Mirabel. Bruno chases after the child, her red hair not very hard to miss.

“Get back here, niña! You will have this bath, or I swear to God!”

He hears Mirabel shout back, “You’re doing great, mi amor!” And he has no idea if it’s for him or Fuega.

Bruno catches up to Fuega and scoops her up into his arms. She squeals out, “Noooo! Don’t wanna!”

He keeps his hold on the squirming child and carries her back to the bathroom. He hears Mirabel laughing and Oscar and Beatriz asking what was happening as he closes the door behind him. He picks up one of her bath toys and hands it to her. Fuega is immediately distracted, and he quickly pops her into the bathtub filled with water.

Bruno watches with some annoyance and love how Fuega doesn’t even care about being in the tub now that she has her toy.

“Papi is too old for this, Foo.”

Not really expecting an answer, she sharply says, “No.”

Bruno snorts with laughter.  

Well, how can he say no to that?

…

"Mami... Mami..."

A whispered child's voice breaks through her nice and wonderful dream. Mirabel grunts in question.

"M-mami, I wet the bed."

That gets her eyes open. In the dark and without her glasses, she thinks she makes out 5-year-old Oscar's silhouette. She sits up and grabs her glasses and shoves them onto her face. Now she can make out an awkwardly standing Oscar with wet pajamas and shame written on his face.

Mirabel’s heart sinks. She hates seeing him so upset so she whispers, "It's okay, Osito. We can fix it."

She stands up and the movement has Bruno making a sleepy noise in question.

"I'm just helping Oscar. We'll be back."

He makes an answering sound of acknowledgement.

She smiles, hoping to cheer Oscar up. She holds his hand as they walk to his room. "We'll work together, okay? There's nothing to be ashamed of."

Oscar nods despondently and she feels awful for him, because, yikes… she’s been there before.

"Let's get you out of those pajamas first. You'll feel a lot better in some new ones."

Mirabel pulls out a whole new set of pajamas and underwear and helps Oscar into them. She throws his wet ones into his laundry basket in his room. She then puts her hands on her hips and nods appreciatively at his fresh look. "Better?"

Oscar gives her a small smile, a victory in her book. She ruffles his hair. "Good. Could you please help me with your sheets?"

He nods and it’s a lot less sad and ashamed to her relief. They work together to strip his sheets and as they go along, she tries to reassure him. “Wetting the bed is a pretty normal thing, okay? Loads of people have done it!”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh! In fact, your Mami here used to have dreams of running to the bathroom a lot. I would think I was sitting down on the toilet, but I would suddenly wake up all wet. It used to make me feel bad, too.” She puts the wet sheets in the basket, leaving the mattress bare, and then peeks at Oscar. “Like I was a silly little kid who couldn’t hold on… Do you feel like that?”

Oscar nods and his lower lip starts to tremble. Mirabel’s heart breaks and she quickly kneels down and hugs him close as he sobs. She runs her fingers through his hair and tries to soothe him.

“Shh. It’s okay. I know it feels like that, but you’re not a silly little kid. You’re my Osito who’s big and strong and kind- wetting the bed doesn’t change that at all. Te quiero, Oscar. Te quiero.”

She hears him say, muffled in her shoulder, “Love you, Mami.” And her heart almost bursts with her love for him. She picks him up and sits him on her hip. Oscar buries his head into her neck and clings to her, and it makes her smile.

"We'll leave your bed to dry, so for tonight, come sleep with Papi and me, okay?"

“Uh-huh.”

She leads him back to Bruno and her bedroom and puts him in the middle of the bed. She takes off her glasses and slides in next to him.

Bruno groggily murmurs, "Mira?"

She whispers, "Oscar's sleeping with us."

"Oh. Okay."

Oscar snuggles against her, and she holds him tight.

"Goodnight, Osito"

But he's already asleep and she doesn't mind at all.

…

An hour later

“Papi. Papi!”

Bruno snorts awake, the fear in the whispered voice jolting him straight out of dream land. He peeks his eye open and sees Beatriz. In the dark, he thinks he can see her eyes shining with tears.

That gets his heart pumping and eyes open further. “Beatriz? What’s wrong?”

She sniffles, “I had a bad dream!”

A part of Bruno relaxes because at least no one was murdered.

“Okay, just- hang on two seconds.” Bruno sits up and then scoops her up to place her next to the sleeping Oscar in the middle of the bed. He snuggles back down into the covers and wraps Beatriz in his arms. He gently places her head onto his chest and lets her listen to his heartbeat and breathing, something he knows soothes him when he’s feeling overwhelmed.

He feels her relax against him and it helps him relax too. He whispers, "You know the best thing for a nightmare?"

A muffled, "No." reaches him and it makes him smile. Bruno rubs her back soothingly.

"The best thing is to go back to sleep, because now you have Mami and Papi to help you in the dream. Okay?"

Beatriz snuggles further into Bruno and sighs contently. She murmurs, "Really?"

A swell of amusement rises within him, and he says, “Uh-huh. I can see dreams and feast on the screams of all the bad things.”

She lifts her head and looks at him in awe. “Really, really?”

He smiles. “Really, really. Now lay back down and go to sleep.”

Beatriz lays her head down and Bruno hears a quite “Love you, Papi.”

His heart clenches and all he can say is, “Love you too, Beatita.”

He listens to her breathing slowing as she drifts back to sleep. Bruno closes his eyes.

Guess he had some bad dreams to fight tonight.

…

30 minutes later

A sharp cry in the distance has Mirabel jolting up in bed, and from the movement next to her, she knows Bruno’s done the same.

She shares a look with Bruno who tiredly raises his eyebrows, offering to go get Fuega.

She shakes her head. Nah, she'll let him sleep a bit more.

He nods in acceptance and slips back into bed, draping his arm over the twins. Mirabel looks at the now two little bodies in their bed and starts calculating how to add a third between them.

Mirabel once again slips her glasses on her face and trudges to Fuega’s room. She opens the door and turns on the light to see little 2-year-old Fuega standing in her cot with tears in her eyes and a frown on her face.

Once she sees Mirabel, she lifts her arms to her and calls out, “Mami! Mami!”

Mirabel’s heart clenches at the sight of her and how distressed she sounds. She quickly makes her way to her daughter cooing, “Oh, Senorita Foo! What’s wrong? What’s got you feeling so down?”

She scoops Fuega up into her arms and sits her on her hip. Fuega holds on tight to her and whimpers, “Mami, Papi, gone. Oz. Bee.”

Having the understanding only a mother could of their young child and their simplistic language, Mirabel realises that Fuega woke up scared and lonely without anyone around her, which may have been triggered by a scary dream.

“It’s okay, Fuega.” Mirabel rubs her back and rocks her, “Everyone is in Mami and Papi’s room. You want to sleep with all of us?”

Fuega sniffles and nods. Mirabel pats her back in answer and walks them both back to Bruno’s and her bedroom. While she was gone, it looks like Bruno had help shift the twins closer to him so that room could be made for Fuega and her. Mirabel smiles in appreciation, heart warm with the small but kind gesture.

She lays Fuega down next to Oscar, takes off her glasses, and then gets into bed herself. Fuega glues herself to Mirabel who drapes her arm over her daughter and her son. She closes her eyes and trails her hand down until she feels Bruno’s hand, which twitches at her touch.

Mirabel sighs in contentment as he laces their fingers together.

They both fall asleep holding their children and their boney limbs and warm bodies, without letting go of the other’s hand.

And it's some of the best sleep they've had in a long while.

…

“Please, Oscar! Please just try a tomato!”

The little 6-year-old boy pouts at the dinner table as he pushes his plate away, and Mirabel sighs. Beatriz and Fuega had happily eaten all of their food, so Bruno had guided them to the lounge room for a quick story to distract them from the battle of wills between Oscar and Mirabel.

This was the 5th time they were having this fight. Mirabel was starting to accept that Oscar was a fussy eater since he won't eat tomatoes. No matter the meal she makes, or how deeply buried she puts it in his meal, he always seems to know and reject it.

In fact, she’d have to say he hates them! At one point he basically caused a riot over them. His tantrum had triggered Fuega, and the negative emotions had caused Beatriz to try and cheer them up with her loud singing and terrible banging on the pots and pans as a makeshift instrument.

Mirabel was not going through that again. So, she was trying her best tactic.

Begging.

And Oscar was unfazed.

Mirabel sighs and pulls her glasses up to rub the indent on her nose of where they sit. She pulls her hand away and gently asks, “Just… explain it to me. Why don’t you like tomatoes?”

Oscar spins his fork on the table as he remains silent. She about ready to give up, because goddamn, why did Oscar have to get his father’s silent attitude when he didn’t want to talk things out?

But then Oscar slowly produces a piece of paper folded in half like a birthday card from inside his little ruana. He slides it over the table, and she gently picks it up. With a very serious voice, he says, “Please read this, Mami.”

Worry takes over her mind. What was so wrong that Oscar had to quietly tell her like this? Was he okay?!

Mirabel opens the paper and looks at it. It was a picture of a red splotch with a green top that kind of looks like a tomato with a cross over it. And it says:

'Tomatos are bad. Reezons why:

1. They taste bad.
2. They feel gross.
3. They are skweeshy.
4. They hav weird things inside
5. No body likes them.

Thats why we should not hav them anymoor.

Oscar still has such a serious face as he watches her read and Mirabel covers her mouth and tries her hardest not to burst out laughing. He was just so cute!

She takes a deep breath and lowers the letter onto the table. She removes her hand from her mouth and tries to create an air of seriousness for this little meeting they were having. “I have read your reasons, and I understand you now.”

Oscar brightens but Mirabel holds up her hand, making him hesitate. “But! Papi and I use tomatoes in the food we make everyone, so we can’t just get rid of them.”

His little face melts into disappointment and he looks so much like Bruno with his kicked puppy look.

Urgh. Her heart!

She smiles gently, “So, how about we just leave it out of your food? Does that sound okay?”

Oscar grins and nods enthusiastically.

It’ll be extra work for her but seeing his happy little smile is always worth it.

…

"Mami. Mami. Mami! Papi! Papi. Paaaapi."

Mirabel sighs fondly next to Bruno at the dinner table, where they were going over this month’s bills. They both turn to 7-year-old Beatriz and Mirabel asks, "What is it, Beatita?"

Just as she says that they both fully look at their daughter and Mirabel gasps. A strange mix of amusement and horror rises inside Bruno, and he murmurs, "Oooh boy."

Beatriz proudly puffs up her chest and grins. "Look at my hair! I did it all by myself!"

Her black hair, with her mother’s curls, was jaggedly cut on one side.

Bruno gets up from his chair, as Mirabel still seems in shock, and kneels to Beatriz’s level. He puts both hands on her shoulders and tries to fight the laugh bubbling up from inside him. “Cariño. Mija. Mi Amor. Why have you cut your hair?”

“Because I found some scissors.”

Bruno opens his mouth, flabbergasted. Mirabel seems to find her voice and says, “Beatriz. What-? Didn’t you like your hair?”

Cheerfully, Beatriz replies, “No. I loved my hair.”

He was… so confused. He loves Beatriz but she always has a way of confusing the heck out of him. Damn him and Mirabel for passing their combined weirdo genes onto her.

“Then why…?”

She grins up at him. “Because!”

Bruno slowly shakes his head in confused wonder.

Mirabel stands up and brushes her fingers through Beatriz’s hair. “Can Mami cut your hair again to… change it a bit?”

Their daughter hums as she thinks, and then nods. “Sure!”

Mirabel sighs in relief. “Thank you, Beatriz. Bruno, can you get me a pair of scissors?”

Bruno stands up to go do that but freezes when Beatriz calls out, “I have some here!” He turns and watches as she pulls a pair of scissors from her skirt. Bruno blinks. Where was she hiding them…?

He puts his hand out for the scissors and says, “Thank you, I guess?”

Once safely in his hands, he goes to give them to Mirabel, but something on the silver pair of scissors catches his eye. He brings it closer to his face to inspect and sees red hairs dusting the shears, and his heart stops.

“Beatriz, where’s Fuega?”

Mirabel looks at him in confusion as Beatriz starts swishing her skirt side-to-side. She answers, “We were playing together. It was super fun!”

He meets Mirabel’s eyes and sees the realisation in them.

“Beatriz, you didn’t…?”

Beatriz smiles and it’s innocent and wide. “Foo and me match now!”

From upstairs they hear Oscar call out, “Maaami. Paaaapi. Foo’s hair is all weird!”

Beatriz pouts and shouts back, “No, it’s not! You’re weird!”

Mirabel sighs and calls out, “No shouting! The both of you!”

“But you’re shouting, Mami.”

She frowns and Bruno reluctantly nods. “She has a point.”

He treated to one of Mirabel’s potent glares and he raises his hands in surrender. He turns around and starts making his way for the other victim of Beatriz’s scissors. “I’ll go get Fuega and we can fix this up.”

Once he gets Fuega who has one side of her hair jaggedly cut, and the curious little tag along, Oscar, he helps set them up in the kitchen. Mirabel has Beatriz sitting down and is already starting on her hair. He hears her say, “Beatita, could you repeat what I just said? So, I know you’re listening?”

With her little feet swinging in time with a tune only Beatriz knows, she repeats with a sing-song voice, “Don’t cut my own hair. Don’t cut Fuega’s hair. Don’t cut Oscar’s hair. Don’t cut Mami’s hair. Don’t cut Papi’s hair.”

“That’s right. Just let Mami do it, okay?”

“Okay!”

Bruno’s eyes catch on the fidgeting Fuega. As a 4-year-old, she didn’t really have the patience to sit and wait for her turn to get her hair fixed. Bruno’s grins, an idea forming in his head.

He claps his hands and gains everyone’s attention.

“Right! Well, while Mami does that, how about I start the next chapter of the telenovela! How does that sound?”

Oscar gasps and scrambles to sit on a dining chair. Fuega’s fidgeting noticeably stops as her attention becomes lock onto him. And Beatriz almost vibrates in excitement as she says, “Please! Pleasepleaseplease!”

Bruno chuckles and opens his arms, letting his ruana look like a cape, and out pop four rats from inside it. All three of his kids smile and laugh and all he can feel is a deep well of love for them.

He looks up at Mirabel and he sees the same reflected in her eyes.

And they’ve never been happier, weird kids and all.

….

7-year-old Fuega watches across the dinner table as Oscar gives Beatriz his crunchy fries, while she gives him her soft ones.

They had a system. Oscar liked soft fries, Beatriz liked crunchy ones, and they silently worked in sync to give what the other needed.

And Fuega was envious.

Those two had a bond she could never be a part of, and it lit a green fire of envy inside her that wished to burn it all.

Without really thinking about it, she reaches across the table and grabs a fistful of each of their favoured fries. Oscar glares at her and yells, “Hey! Knock it off, Fuega!”

Beatriz on the other hand looks at their Mami and Papi for support. Fuega’s not surprised. Beatriz is too scared to fight or yell at someone, too scared that they’ll hate her or snap back at her. While Oscar, who was usually really nice and caring and understanding, didn’t seem to mind fighting back at all.

Well, Fuega could fight back too!

Papi and Mami give her a stern look. Mami warns, “Fuega, that’s Oscar’s and Beatriz’s fries, not yours. Put them down. Now.”

“Listen to your mother, Fuega.”

Anger boils inside her. She hated Mami and Papi looking at her like she was a naughty little kid, but she also liked their attention on her.

Fuega glares into her mother’s eyes in challenge and shoves both fistfuls of crunchy and soft fries into her mouth. She purposely chews loudly as Oscar stands up to slam his hands on the table to shout at her. But before he can say anything, Mami stands and commands, "Fuega! We're going to your room."

Oscar shuts his mouth and meekly sits back down while Beatriz awkwardly tries not to bare witness to what’s happening in front of her. Papi frowns in disappointment and that actually hurts Fuega more than anger from either Mami or Papi.

She crosses her arms and swallows the fries. Her Mami narrows her eyes and warns, “Get up now, young lady. We’re going to have a talk.”

Fuega gets out of her chair, making the legs screech loudly against the floor, and stamps her way to her room. She hears her Mami close on her heels.

Once they reach her room, she thinks about slamming the door in her Mami’s face but decides against it. She loves her Mami, she didn’t want to actually hurt her.

Mami sits on Fuega’s bed and firmly, but not unkindly asks, "You want to tell me what that was about?"

Fuega stays standing in the middle of her room. She stubbornly looks away and huffs.

"Fine. Okay. Don't tell me. I bet I can guess, though."

She slightly turns her Mami and looks at her through her hair. She can see Mami smiling sardonically, "You were feeling left out, so you took it out on your brother and sister, didn’t you?"

Fuega blinks in shock. How did she…?

Her Mami was right. She felt lonely when she saw them doing their whole twin shtick, and she didn’t like it. She just wanted to be included and it was like they were shoving it into her face.

Gently, her Mami grabs her hands and smiles softly up at her, and Fuega suddenly feels embarrassed for her actions. If Mami was angry or yelling at her, Fuega could keep the fire burning inside her going; she could keep being angry. But she sees love and patience and it makes the fire petter out into hot coals of embarrassment that sits in her tummy.

“I know what it’s like to feel left out by family members- it feels gross and lonely, especially when they never notice.”

Fuega doesn’t know her Papi’s or her Mami’s family but the idea that some of them made her Mami feel like this, and did nothing about it, makes her so angry that the fire reignites inside her chest, and she wants them to burn to ashes. She grits her teeth against the protective feeling inside her and continues to listen to her.

“I understand why you did what you did, but it doesn’t excuse that you tried to purposely hurt your brother and sister for how you were feeling.” Fuega darts her eyes away in shame and Mami leans her head to the side to try and catch her eyes again, “I mean, do you think Oscar and Beatriz knew how you were feeling?”

Not wanting to speak, a chastised Fuega shakes her head.  

Mami smiles sympathetically, “See? They didn’t know so how could they know to include you? That’s why we have to say how we feel or else no one will ever know how to work with us or help us. Do you understand?”

She briefly wonders why her Mami says ‘we’ instead of ‘you’ and thinks that maybe it had to do with Mami’s family who Fuega was disliking more and more as time went on. She stares at her Mami, and she can see her trying to understand and see Fuega; to be better than that stupid faraway family of hers. To give Fuega what Mami wasn’t given.

And Fuega has a sudden thought that if she ignores Mami’s advice then she’d make her Mami sad and disappointed.

Just like that dumb family who ignored Mami.

That protective flame flares inside her again, but this time, Fuega’s bad behaviour is the one to be turned to ash. She loves her family, and she needs to stop being the one that’s hurting them. So, she hesitantly smiles, “Yes, Mami. I understand. I’ll… talk about… my feelings more…”

She tucks Fuega’s hair behind her ear and then gently cups her cheeks. Fuega gently holds her Mami’s wrists. “Thank you, Foo, I know you’ll try. It’s all I ask for now.”

Mami stands up and kisses her head, and Fuega feels so warm with her Mami’s love that a small grin breaks over her face without her permission. Then Mami puts her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow. “Now, I think you owe Oscar and Beatriz an apology, don’t you think?”

Fuega’s face gets hot in mortification, but she nods. This was going to be sooo embarrassing!

She takes a deep breath and takes her first step in trying to change by hugging her Mami. Fuega was going to be better than that stupid family that made her Mami feel so lonely and sad.

Arms wrap around her and squeeze her tight, and Fuega whispers, “I’m sorry, Mami, for doing those things and being so mean.”

She pulls away from the hug and looks up in determination, “I’m going to go say sorry to Oscar and Beatriz right now. But…” Her determination slowly goes away like a puff of smoke, and she nervously looks at Mami. “Can you come with me?”

Her Mami’s smile is warm and loving and it gives more courage to Fuega than she’ll ever know. “Of course, mi corazón- always!”

And Fuega believes it there in her room with her smile. And she believes it as she stutters out an apology to Oscar and Beatriz with her hand in her Mami’s sweaty one. And she believes it as the twins listen to her feelings and start sharing their fries with her and her Mami looks at her with pride.

And she believes it when her Mami hugs her and whispers, “I love you, Foo.”

And all she can say back is, “I love you, too.”

…

It was 11-year-old Beatriz’s turn to wash the dishes with her Papi, and she sways and hums to the song playing on the record player as he washes, and she dries. She’s jolted out of her rhythm when Papi anxiously asks, “Beatita, did you cross those knives?”

Beatriz looks at the knives she just dried and placed down without thinking. She casually shrugs. “I think so. Why?”

Papi’s face was deep with worry, and she wants to do something that would bring a smile to his face. She loves Papi’s smiles the most. Beatriz starts thinking of a song she could play that would lift his mood, but is interrupted when he states seriously, “It’s bad luck to cross knives, Beatriz.”

She blinks in surprise, and her heart picks up with some anxiety. It’s okay. Think happy thoughts.

Smiling in confusion, she asks, “Bad luck?”

“Yes. Bad luck. You need to uncross them right now if you don’t want to have a fight with a friend.”

Beatriz frowns. She doesn’t like fighting, especially with family or friends. Her anxiety may be spiking with the idea, but she didn’t honestly believe what he was saying. Though, she knew she couldn’t be rude about it since she didn’t want to hurt her superstitious father by laughing or being too casual. So, she smiles widely.

“It’s okay! I have super good luck, so I’ll be fine.”

Papi watches her with concern and anxiety. Then he reaches over with his wet hands and gently uncrosses the knives with a sigh of relief. Beatriz didn’t mind. It clearly helped Papi feel better, and she was alright with that.

“Well, if something happens, tell me.”

She nods. Nothing was going to happen. Papi was just being paranoid.

But then the next day happens, and she returns home flustered and anxious.

“Papi! Oh my god! Oh my god! You were right!”

Papi, Oscar, and Fuega all startle from the making of new sets for the rat telenovela and worriedly look at her. “What am I right about? Why are you so freaked out?”

Beatriz can’t stop shaking. She should have listened to her Papi, he always knew what was best for her, he had only been trying to help her. She can’t help the rush of words leaving her mouth as she tries to explain.

“I was walking passed Sofía today- you know her; blonde, tall, my age, friends with Gabriel from my class-“ Papi’s eyes cloud over in confusion, and she forgot that he doesn’t know people like she does, but she doesn’t have time to sit down with him like usual to explain who Sofía and Gabriel were so she continues, “-well, she usually gives me a smile and a good morning. Like every day. But today… she didn’t.”

Papi stares at her and Beatriz stares back. At the corner of her eye, she catches Oscar and Fuega sharing a look that she chooses to not think of as ‘exasperated’ or ‘mocking’.

“And…?”

“And! It means that you were right about the crossing knives. No one likes me anymore!” Beatriz feels her lip wobble as her fear and anxiety at suddenly not being liked because of her bad luck hits her. “I should never have done it! I should have believed you, Papi! I’m so sorry!”

Beatriz sobs and suddenly her Papi is there, holding her tight. “Hey, shhh, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

She hugs him back just as tight and buries herself in his arms, needing him to protect her, to make her feel safe like he always does. “I don’t want anyone to hate me. What can I do to fix it, Papi?”

He gently pushes her away and wipes the tears from under her glasses. “Being hated by people sucks. Trust me, I know.”

Beatriz shares a look with Oscar and Fuega and she can tell they were all wondering what he meant by that. Papi was one of the best people she knew, how could anyone hate him? Did she need to give someone a stern talking to?

She doesn’t think about it for long as her Papi straightens up with a serious face.

“Okay. Let’s do some damage control. Usually, you’d have to uncross the knives you crossed but I already did that for you… though I guess it wasn’t enough. We’ll just have to grab some salt and throw it over our shoulder. The left side, though. Not the right. Then we can knock on wood, and we can hold our breath and cross our fingers while we walk through doorways. Hopefully, that will be enough. Alright?”

Beatriz nods meekly. Her Papi was an expert with bad luck, so she trusts what he’s saying. Papi and Beatriz then spend the rest of the day trying to do as much as possible to combat the bad luck she brought down on herself.

When Oscar and Fuega look at them and snicker amongst themselves, Papi would give them a stern look and tell them to quit being mean to her, and her heart would leap with his defence as they’d quickly clamped their mouths shut (And she’d be saddened that he wasn’t really defending himself). Then Mami would walk in, fondly sigh at them, and go get them more salt.

She’s so glad she has Papi with her. She wouldn’t know what she would do if she didn’t have him to help her with something like this.

The next day, Sofía smiles and says good morning.

When Beatriz gets home, she leaps into her surprised Papi’s arms and kisses his cheek while shouting her thanks.

Papi pats her back and says, “Anything for you.”

And she knows he means it.

….

12-year-old Oscar clutches his poem in a death grip as his turn for family entertainment night is up next. His Mom and Beatriz both play an accordion each in a duet as his twin sings beautifully. Fuega spins and twirls as she dances with grace and freedom, and Oscar is completely jealous.

He peeks an anxious look at his Dad, who bobs along with the music. He wishes he could feel some companionship with his dad about them being the talentless ones, but he knows that his dad will get up at the end and perform his telenovela and everyone will be enthralled.

It wasn’t fair. Why was Oscar the only one who wasn’t creative? He liked writing poems, but he knew they were mediocre at best. He only started writing them because he felt like he needed something.

Something that was creative and beautiful and made him feel like part of the family.

He’s jolts out of his swirling thoughts when Beatriz says, “Oscar! It’s your turn.”

He stares into his cheerful sister’s eyes. He then abruptly stands up and he feels everyone’s gazes on him, burning him. He croaks out, “I-I-I.. I gotta go!” And he dashes for his room upstairs, ignoring the calls of his name.

Oscar wraps his blanket around him in the dark. He stares at his stupid poem and sniffles. None of them understood what it was like to be the talentless one. None.

A knock at his door makes him pause.

“Oscar? It’s me.”

Mom.

“Can I come in? I just want to know if you’re okay.”

Oscar doesn’t know if he wants to talk to anyone right now. But… maybe… maybe his Mom could understand. He scrubs his eyes and his nose on his sleeve quickly and calls out, “Sure.”

She gently opens the door, turns on the light, and smiles softly when she sees him. He feels a sudden urge to run to her and let himself be wrapped up in one of her warm hugs. She walks over and sits next to where he’s buried himself under the blanket.

Gently, she asks, “You want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Oscar fidgets with the paper in his hand. Something inside him, a gut feeling, says, ‘Mom is understanding. Let her help you.’

He silently hands her his poem and resolutely refuses to watch her face as she reads it. He didn’t need to see. He already knew it was bad. After a moment, his Mom says, “This is great, Osito!”

Despondently, he says, “You don’t have to lie. I know it’s terrible.”

Her hand cups his face and gently turns him to look at her. Oscar is amazed to see determination lining her face, ready to fight anyone, including himself, to make him feel better.

“I’m not lying. You make great poems! What makes you think like that?”

He averts his eyes, unable to hold his mother’s gaze, and she brushes his hair out of his eyes. Meekly, Oscar says, “I don’t have any talents. I’m not creative. I-I’m talentless!”

He peeks at her and is shocked by the look on her face.

It was a deeply sad understanding of how he felt.

And he has a sudden need to comfort her instead, so he wraps his arms around her. Oscar wanted to protect his Mom from whoever made her feel like this, but he has a feeling he can’t since it was in the past. He feels her hand running up and down his back, trying to soothe him in return.

She gently lets him go and says, "I’m sorry you feel like that. But Oscar, you have a gift of understanding and empathising with people. You can read people’s minds."

He side-eyes her in doubt. What kind of talent was that?

She playfully nudges his shoulder with her own and says, "You do! Like Fuega for example. Tell me what you know about her."

He sighs in exasperation but does as she asks. In a monotone voice, he states, "Fuega is the youngest child, and because of that she feels left out, so she acts out to get attention, but she apologises if she goes too far. She likes it when any of us give her affection, even when she complains about it, because she actually really loves her family."

Oscar glances to the side and catches his Mom's eyes sparkling with pride. He looks away, embarrassed.

"See? You understand her in a way not many people do. That's a gift."

He rolls his eyes and sarcastically retorts, "Oh yeah, real gift it is. It's not amazing like singing or dancing or writing stories or playing music. All those things are beautiful and can move people in ways that I never can. All I can do is read people."

Mom gently wraps an arm around his shoulder and squeezes him. "Do you think your Papi can read people?"

Oscar didn't expect the question, so he has to think on it for a moment. Hesitantly, he opens his mouth to say, "Sometimes. There are times he seems to understand people and what choices they’ll make because he grew up vigilant to other people’s feelings. But other times, he seems clueless. Or more like… awkward."

She chuckles, "Yeah. That's true. What about Beatriz?"

"...She can read people. She’s aware of how they feel but if it's negative, she tries to fix it. Sometimes when she tries to fix people, she forgets that they need to experience the bad AND the good. And along the way, she forgets herself."

Mom sighs sadly. "True. Now, what about me?"

Oscar turns to look at her head on. She has a look of encouragement on her face, and it boosts his confidence.

"You read people pretty well, but sometimes you can't see what's in front of you until someone points it out. But the understanding you do have has been because you felt like an outcast, and you wanted to join in the group but were never allowed to. Then you found Dad and created a family of weirdos."

Oscar blinks. He doesn't really know what came over him to just... say all of that. He searches his mom's face to see if she was upset.

Instead, she smiles sadly. Quietly she says, "Look at that. You have an amazing talent. Someone needs to understand your sisters and look after them. And you're right. Your dad and I found each other because we were the only ones who understood each other. I wish we had someone like you when we were younger, Oscar."

He doesn’t feel convinced, but maybe… maybe she was onto something?

“And you know, you can use that gift of empathy to help write your poems!”

He darts his eyes back to her, intrigued. She smirks and he knows she’s amused with her little victory. “Poems are about feelings, and if you struggle to use your own, why not put yourself in another person’s shoes and write how you think they’d feel.”

Oscar slowly nods, “That’s… not a bad idea.”

“See? Your talent isn’t useless!”

She then thinks for a moment, deliberating on something she wants to tell him. Her arm wraps around his shoulder and he leans into her comforting warmth. Slowly, as if she was unsure on how to word it, she says, “I just… want you to know that… we love you. I love you. Whether you had zero talent or an out of this world one, I love you. All of you. Understand me?”

A silly grin works its way on his face, and he chuckles. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Good.” Mom stands up and heads to his door. She looks back at him to say, “You can still recite your poem, if you want?”

Oscar chews his lip as he looks at the piece of paper on his bed. He wasn’t fond of that one but… He looks over at his notebook and grins. Maybe he could put into action his mother’s suggestion?

“Yeah, I will. Just- give me a minute?”

“Sure.”

She touches the doorknob and Oscar calls out, “Wait!”

She turns back and he says, “Love you too, Mom. All of you.”

Mom smiles and he can feel all of her love shining on him, giving him courage. She leaves the room, and he gets to work. He arrives back in the lounge 15 minutes later with a new poem in hand. He gets up on ‘stage’ (the blank spot that had the chairs facing it) and clears his throat to gain everyone’s attention.

Once everyone looks at him, he announces, “I would like to read my new poem. It’s, ah, different than the one prepared earlier.”

His hands shake and Oscar darts a nervous glance his Mom’s way. She smiles encouragingly and give him two thumbs up. It weirdly relaxes him, and he takes a deep breath.

He opens his mouth and recites;

Loneliness is my friend

And people recommend

It comes to an end.

But I don't know who'd I'd be

Without my old friend and me,

But I hope one day I'll see.

For now, I'll hold their hand

And watch the hourglass sand

And dream I no longer need

Loneliness and me.

Oscar looks up and everyone is quiet. Mom jumps up and claps. "Oh, Oscar! That was amazing!"

Fuega seems slightly stunned as she snarks, "Yeah. Surprisingly."

Beatriz tackles into his side, making the air leave his lungs with an ‘oof!’. She grins at him with pride, "He IS my twin, after all. We share the same creative brain, don't we Osito?"

Oscar chuckles as Fuega rolls her eyes at Beatriz. "Come on, you happy weirdo. Let's give the ‘creative genius’ some space for his big brain.”

His twin side-eyes Fuega. “I think you just want to get him his favourite snack for doing so well.”

Fuega scoffs and her face suddenly matches her hair. She stamps off to the kitchen saying, “No, I don’t. I’m getting myself one.”

Beatriz coos as she follows after her. “You’re always so sweet, Foo. You just need to be more honest!”

“Shut up!”

Oscar shakes his head. Those two were walking sunshine and fire and he doesn’t know if that was a good combination or not.

Dad comes over to him and fist bumps his shoulder. "Good job! This poem was great!" His face drops into his usual nervousness and he rushes to say, "Not that your other poems were bad! They're all good. I just, ah..."

Oscar watches in amusement as Mom hooks her arm through Dad's and affectionately rolls her eyes. "What your Papi is trying to say is that: your poems are beautiful, and we can see you improving every day. What inspired you to write this one?"

Oscar looks between his Mom and Dad and thinks about what she told him in his room. He smiles, "I guess I used my talent to understand what it was like to be a younger you, Mom. Before you met Dad."

Mom smiles with pride, and a happy embarrassment burns his cheeks red. Dad looks between the two them with a wry smile. "What did you two talk about?"

Oscar shares a look with his Mom, and they both slowly grin. Mom says, "Oh, you know. Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

With fake innocence, Oscar chirps, “Stuff and things.”

Dad grumpily pouts. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

He pats his dad’s arm in sympathy. He knows how much his dad doesn’t like to be left out. “I won’t. But I know Mom will later.”

Dad reluctantly nods in agreement as Mom laughs awkwardly. “Noooo. Nope. I won’t. What makes you think that?”

He sends a doubtful look her way. “I can read minds, remember? I know you two tell each other everything.” Before she can protest, Oscar puts his hand up to stop her. “Hey, it’s fine. I don’t mind if you tell him.”

He hesitates as a sudden burst of mischievousness rises within him. Coyly, he says, “And, I mean, there’s no secrets between families… right?”

Oscar watches in amusement as his parents share a nervous look. He knew that his parents had secrets, of what he didn’t know, but he thought he was allowed to push their buttons over it.

Also, because their faces right now were pretty funny.

He starts to back away as he points back to the kitchen and says, “I’m going to go stop Beatriz and Fuega from eating my share. You two want anything?”

They both shake their head, and Oscar smiles, “Cool.”

Before he enters the kitchen, Oscar takes a peek at them. They huddle closer together and whisper. His dad’s hand soothingly rubs his mom’s arm until her face breaks out into a smile. Dad lovingly smiles back and slides his hand down to hold her already waiting hand. Mom squeezes the hand and stares affectionately back.

Oscar smiles softly as he watches his parents hold each other’s hand and share their love.

Guess they no longer had to deal with loneliness when they had each other.

…

13-year-old Beatriz sits on the ground, next to her best friends, Sofía, Ava, and Renata for lunch. They happily chat together, and Sofía tells a joke so funny that Beatriz can't help laughing so hard that she snorts.

Liliana and her two friends walk by, and Beatriz's heart skips anxiously. She can get along with pretty much everyone, but for some reason Liliana hated her. No amount of kindness shown the girl's way or offers of help or how much she ignores her attitude; Beatriz just can't get her to like her. So, every time she sees Liliana, her stomach would twist anxiously, and she would feel like throwing up.

But she can't throw up at school… That would just be unlikeable.

Liliana's eyes catch on Beatriz who is trying very hard to keep her attention on her friends. From the corner of her eye, she spies Liliana smirking cruelly.

"Look at this, girls. There’s an ugly bitch who should keep her mouth shut- We don’t want to see your gross teeth, Madrigal.”

Liliana’s friends snicker and Beatriz’s ducks her head in shame and clamps her mouth shut. She has to keep her tears in, no matter how hurt she was. She can’t make her friends sad and worried for her.

Sofía glares at Liliana. “You wish you were as pretty as her. Go back to your cave and hang, you murciélago fea!”

“Quit your barking. We don’t want your slobber on us, perrito.” Liliana sends a look back at her friends and they all start walking away. Liliana then scoffs over her shoulder, “Let’s go. Before we catch rabies.”

Ava and Renata put a hand on Beatriz’s back as Sofía spits curses at their retreating backs. Sofía then spins around and worriedly says, “Hey, don’t listen to her, okay? You’re gap tooth is really cute. Right?” She gives Ava and Renata pointed looks and they nod in agreement.

“Thanks.” Beatriz smiles widely, showing off her teeth like she always does, but Liliana’s words echo in her head, and she quickly shuts her mouth.

She’s never had a problem with her front gap in her teeth before. She didn’t hate it or love it- it just was. But was Liliana right? Were they… ugly?

The rest of the day at school, Beatriz tries her hardest to smile with her mouth closed. Her gap tooth was all she could think about. If it was ugly, then do boys hate the look of them? Is that why none of them look her way?

Her thoughts swirl and swirl, even as she steps back into her home.

Fuega sits in their Papi’s armchair reading and turns her bored gaze onto Beatriz. “Hey.”

Beatriz smiles tightly and nods. Her sister immediately becomes suspicious. “What? No cheerful greeting today?”

She doesn’t want to speak and show off her teeth so she just shrugs.

Fuega shuts the book and stands up to march over to her. She leans into Beatriz’s personal space to study her face, and she can’t help averting her eyes. “What’s wrong with you? You never pass up on smiling and saying ‘Hi’.”

She mumbles, “Nothing.”

“Riiight,” she sarcastically drawls. “If you won’t tell me, I’m getting Mami.”

Stubbornly, she keeps her mouth shut. Fuega shrugs and then sucks in a breath. At the top of her lungs, she yells, “Mami! Something’s wrong with Beatriz!”

Their Mami’s exasperated voice drifts into the room with her and Beatriz’s heart picks up with anxiety. Mami says, “Fuega, what did I say about shouting in the house?”

“Not to do it.”

“So, why were you shouting in the house?”

Fuega nods towards Beatriz, “She’s acting weird.”

Mami’s warm eyes rest on her and all Beatriz wants to do is squirm. “Is that true, Beatita? Are you okay?”

She smiles as best as she can to not show her teeth and nods. Mami’s eyes get suspicious, and, in any other situation, she knows she would have laughed at how similar her and Fuega looked.

Mami’s hand touches her shoulder, and she starts guiding her out of the room. Their Mami looks at Fuega and says, “I’m taking her to her room, could you go help Papi finish dinner? Maybe get Oscar to help too?”

Her sister sighs reluctantly but nods anyway. Beatriz mumbles, “Mami, I’m fine, I’m totally fine! I swear!”

She’s given a sharp look on the stairs, “You’re not fine. You’re not.”

The conviction in her voice manages to make Beatriz drop her gaze to her shoes and obediently follow her Mami.

Once in her room, she’s guided to sit on her bed while Mami sits next to her. A hand gently but firmly pulls her head to her Mami’s shoulder, and she closes her eyes in contentment as fingers run through her hair. Beatriz takes a deep breath and she’s comforted by her Mami’s scent.

Softly, Mami says, “You want to tell me what happened?”

Beatriz takes a few moments to calm the sudden rise of nerves inside her as the memories from today hit her again.

She didn’t know how to open her mouth and let the bad stuff out. She was Beatriz Madrigal, and she was the happy one, a title she prided herself on. She liked being so happy and cheerful that it made everyone else happy too.

And her bad emotions wouldn’t make her Mami happy.

“I…”

“If you say you’re fine, I won’t believe you, because I know what it’s like to not be ‘fine’.”

Mami gently pushes her off her shoulder and cups her cheek so that Beatriz can look at her. She smiles warmly at her and Beatriz feels tears prick her eyes. For herself, for Mami who has felt this ‘not fine’ feeling before.

“Beatriz, you’re allowed to not be fine. You’re allowed to say out loud how you feel. I promise that hearing what bothers you makes me so, so happy, because it means I can be there for you.”

She sniffles and a sob escapes her throat. She lunges into her Mami’s embrace and wails.

Between her sobs and the feeling of her Mami’s hands on her back and in her hair, patting her soothingly, she gets out, “Liliana- sh-sh-she called my gap tooth ugly! And she’s right because boys don’t look at me at all. S-s-so I tried hiding it all day today and I don’t like not being able to smile as wide as I want! I don’t like seeing everyone so worried about me! I don’t like feeling so gross! I just want it to go away!”

Mami holds her as she cries and cries, rocking her as if she was a little kid again, and Beatriz likes it. She loves her Mami’s hugs.

After her sobs subside, Beatriz pulls away and takes off her glasses to rub her eyes. When she puts them back on, she sees Mami smiling sadly. “Do you feel better?”

She thinks for a moment. Did she? She had to admit that she feels strangely lighter now than before. Even if her nose was now super blocked. She snorts, and it sounds ugly and gross and wet, but she didn’t care.

“I… think I do.”

“Good. Because I want to clear some things up.”

Beatriz’s eyebrows inch up in surprise. Her Mami looked and sounded so determined. “First off, your gap-tooth is really cute, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your mother.”

Beatriz frowns, not really believing her.

“No, listen to me, it is. In fact, my mom used to say that people with a gap tooth were born with charm and would one day be very successful. And you are the most charming person in this family by far.”

She reluctantly nods, feeling a bit bad for invertedly agreeing that the others sucked socially. “You really think my gap-tooth is that amazing?”

“Oh, absolutely. You should smile the way you want, and one day you’ll meet a boy who will love you for you- gap-tooth and all.”

“Is that why you don’t mind Papi’s teeth? Because you love him?” Maybe that’s where she got the gap-tooth from, because her Papi had an almost unnoticeable gap between his teeth. But… if she looked closely at her Mami, she kind of did too. Sort of…

“Beatriz,” Her Mami slowly smiles and it’s full of nothing but adoration, “I love your Papi so much that I’ve long since accepted everything that he considers bad, and he does the same for me. That’s the kind of love you deserve. You’ll find someone one day because you’re amazing- you just have to see it.”

She feels like singing a cheerful and warm song with how her Mami was making her feel. She likes this more than the feeling Liliana made her experience with her comments.

So, she chooses to try and believe her Mami. Because her Mami is always right.

Beatriz suddenly feels so much better, her heart lighter than before, and suddenly her lips stretch widely into a smile. Mami softly smiles with her, and Beatriz can feel all of her love shining onto her. “There’s my Beatriz. She was only hiding away for a moment.”

She hugs her Mami with her smile in place and whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

When they pull away from each other, her Mami smiles and then stands up. “If you’re up for it, dinner should be ready.”

Beatriz bounces to her feet, feeling renewed and energized. “I’ll go! I’m super hungry.”

During dinner, Beatriz is able to calmly repeat the day’s events to the family with only a small twinge of pain and anxiety, which she will take as a win. Her Mami doesn’t pressure her to tell everyone what happened, Beatriz just… wanted to. She guesses she wanted to try out this ‘sharing the bad stuff, not just the good stuff’ approach.

When she sees her Papi, Oscar, and Fuega look equal parts worried and angry on her behalf, she feels like they care.

Beatriz looks to her Mami who winks at her.

It was nice to know that two ‘not fine’ people had a family who cared to listen.

(The next day after school, there’s a knock on Beatriz’s bedroom door. She pauses writing lyrics for her latest song and calls out, “Come in!”

Fuega comes in and shuts the door behind her. Her sister walks over to her and holds her clenched fist out with a grunt.

Beatriz blinks in surprise. What did she want to give her?

She holds her hand out and Fuega drops something small and white into it. Beatriz’s smile freezes when she realises it was a tooth. Keeping her smile in place she slowly looks up at her sister and raises her eyebrows in question. Because, yeah, what the heck?!

Fuega smirks. “Let’s just say Liliana will be changing her tune on the gap-tooth look from now on.”

She stares in disbelief. She didn’t like violence- she didn’t think it solved anything that a song couldn’t fix- but for some reason, something in her feels oddly… pleased.

Beatriz gets up and tackles Fuega in a fierce hug who begins to struggle in her arms. “Eww! Gross! Don’t hug me!”

She grins and tightens her hold. “Nope. Great sisters get a hug. You just have to put up with it.”

The struggling slowly melts into acceptance as Fuega grumbles and hugs her back.

With the tooth in her hand, her loyal little sister in her arms, Papi’s and Oscar’s concerned and caring looks in her memory, and her Mami’s words in her head, Beatriz sighs in contentment.

Her family was the best.)

….

11-year-old Fuega sighs as she comes home from her dance class.

Today had been tough. Her dance classes taught all types of styles, but today they were learning ballet. They did some of the basics and it was all so strict, and you had to put your body in positions that hurt.

Dancing was meant to be free and wild and fun. Not something that controlled you like a wooden doll.

She looks at her new ballet shoes that the dance school provided, and she can already tell they were going to wreck her feet. Irritation flares hot within her and she carelessly throws them away from her, and they land with a clatter onto the dining room table.

Unfortunately, at that moment, her Papi walks in with wide eyes. “Whoa. What’s wrong, Fuega?”

She crosses her arms and shrugs. “Nothing. Just reconsidering dance class.”

Papi’s eyes fill with worry, and she hates that she’s the one who put that look on his face.

“Why? Did something happen?”

She fidgets under his genuine care, and she can’t hold in the eruption brewing inside her anymore. She explodes out, “Ballet sucks! It’s too stiff and it hurts. Just look at the shoes I have to wear!” She points to the table, and he turns to look at them.

Papi blanches, runs over to them to remove them from the table to put on the floor. Once he’s done that, he anxiously turns back to Fuega.

“Fuega! It’s bad luck to put shoes on top of a bench!” He dips his hand inside his ruana and pulls out a handful of salt. “Quick, throw some of this over your shoulder- It might help ward off some of the bad luck.”

She rolls her eyes but pinches some salt from his hand anyway. She then throws some over her shoulder without caring where it lands.

Her Papi’s superstitions were stupid.

But… there wasn’t anything wrong with being cautious, now was there?

Papi sighs in relief and then studies her carefully. “It’s not really about the shoes, is it? What is it about ballet that you hate, Fuega?”

Fuega crosses her arms again and says, “I already told you! Its stiff and it hurts.”

“But that’s not all of it, is it?”

She frowns as her Papi quietly waits for her response. She can tell that he really cares about her and her answer by the way his eyes are soft and loving. Urgh. Why was her Papi so nice?

“…I don’t like the way… that ballet… controls me. When I dance, I’m free. Even dances that I have to learn steps to, I’m still free. But ballet controls me like I’m a puppet. Like… like I have no feelings as I’m controlled by these stiff movements. Does… does that make sense?”

Papi smiles sadly, and that confuses her.

“You think it’s controlling you, but trust me, once you learn the basics and get an understanding of it, it’ll be you controlling it.”

Fuega pauses in thought at the way he says, ‘trust me’. Like Papi knew what it was like to have something that you loved to do, but hated how it could take you over, override how you feel, and feel so… helpless because of it.

But to be the one in control of the thing that you thought controlled you seems like a pretty powerful thing.

“You think so?”

Papi smiles warmly, “I know so. I’ll even help you figure out your own calming techniques so that if you ever feel like dancing is controlling you again, then you can calm down enough to say, ‘No thank you, not today!’”

A small hesitant smile breaks across her grumpy face. She’s glad she told her Papi her feelings. She steps closer to him and hugs him. “Thanks, Papi. You’re the best.”

Papi strokes her hair and whispers, “I think you’re the best.”

He then pauses, and then anxiously says, “But you know, also equal with your siblings.” He pulls back with her hand on her shoulders and continues rambling, “Because I love you all equally. The same amount, shared all round. There’s no competition here.”

She snorts and pulls away from him, “Papi, I get it. I love you too.”

He goes over to pick up her new ballet shoes and hands them to her. “Just please- no more shoes on the table. My heart can’t take the bad luck.”

Fuega rolls her eyes, and she groans out as she walks back to her room, “Fiiiine!”

….

Oscar sighs in frustration at his homework. Math was the biggest pain in the world. Who needs fractions? Percentages?

Not him, that’s for sure.

And the way he’s seen his Mom and Dad look over it with utter confusion proves how much you don’t need these things outside of school.

Dad walks into the kitchen with two rats on his shoulder and eyes what Oscar’s hunched over.

“It that the really hard maths again?” He reaches into the fridge and pulls out some spinach leaves for his rats to nibble on. Dad also pulls out the jug of water and pours two glasses and a small bowl for the rats.

Dad gives one of the glasses to him, and Oscar takes a sip. Suddenly, he realises how thirsty he is, so Oscar chugs back the glass in record time and slams it back onto the table. He looks up to see his Dad staring at him with shock.

“I take it that the maths is hitting you hard today.”

He lays his head down on top of his book and mumbles, “You have no idea.”

“14-year-olds have it rough these days. It’s definitely different from when I was your age.”

Oscar pauses.

His Dad wasn’t usually open about his past. He was always vague about some things- some good, some bad. Oscar, Beatriz, and Fuega didn’t even know the names of Dad’s family or their last name. He always says he took their mother’s last name when they eloped.

Hoping this time was his chance, Oscar hesitantly asks, “What were you like at my age?”

A sad pensive look passes over his Dad’s face, and Oscar holds his breath in excitement.

“Let’s just say I worked a part-time… customer service job that felt full-time. All of my customers would yell at me for doing my job wrong. Which was hard, because they used to praise me for it. Until they didn’t. And my mother would-“

Oscar is leaning so far forward, listening to every scrap he can while his father talks. He never knew this before! He had to tell Beatriz and Fuega! But disappointment washes over him when his Dad looks up at him and freezes.

He searches Oscar’s face and then seems to come to some kind of decision. His dad always avoided things, but Oscar could sense that he was deciding to be more open with him.

Dad scratches his chin as he awkwardly laughs. “-Would, ah, haha, she wouldn’t do much except tell me to do better and that I wasn’t trying hard enough.”

Oscar deflates and frowns, angry on his dad’s behalf. He didn’t expect something so… horrible. How could his own mother treat him like that? Maybe there was a good reason why they didn’t talk about dad’s family; they didn’t seem kind.    

He watches as his dad’s eyes become shifty and awkward, having hit his limit. Damn, there goes his chance to learn more. Dad must be feeling super awkward and in need of a change of topic, because all of a sudden, he blurts out, "Ah! My nose is itchy! Quick, Oscar, shake my hand!"

Oscar doubtfully looks at his dad and then slowly lifts his hand towards him as he asks, “Whhhyyy?"

His dad grabs his hand and shakes it, and with the other he rubs his nose. "Oooh that's better."

His dad keeps shaking Oscar's hand and he is just so confused. "How does shaking hands help with an itchy nose?"

Dad stops scratching his nose and looks him dead in the eyes as he says, "If I don't want bad luck from an itchy nose then I have to shake the hand of a fool."

Oscar stares up at his dad and he stares back.

He snatches his hand back and hurriedly stands up. Playfully, Oscar growls, “You’re gonna get it for that one!”

He launches himself after his dad who dodges past him with a loud laugh. Oscar knows his dad is unusually fast for an old man, so when he sees Fuega, he calls out, “Stop him!”

She snaps her head towards them and quickly realises what’s going on. She smirks and tackles their dad with no mercy, making him shriek.

Oscar casually walks over and grips onto his dad’s ruana, and he grins at Fuega. “Thanks for the help.”

She picks herself off the floor and dusts herself off.

“No problem. You owe me a share of your ice cream tonight though.” She puts her fist out and says, “Deal?”

He grimaces but reluctantly nods. He fist bumps her and sighs, “Yeah, it’s a deal.”

She grins and walks into her room.

Oscar turns back to his recovering father and smirks, “Time for some payback, old man.”

Dad collects himself and he grins back. “Oh, yeah? What are you going to do?”

“I, ah…” Oscar thinks but comes up empty. A part of him wanted to punch his dad’s arm but the man had already taken a tackle to the ground, and he didn’t want to hurt him even further.

So, he smugly says, “I’m going to read you my poetry.”

Dad blanches but tries to quickly cover it up. Oscar smirks. He’s not stupid, he knew how much his dad disliked his poetry. But the man supported him with it anyway and offered to read or listen to his writings all the time.

His dad was pretty awesome like that.

Dad plays it cool and says, “Pffft! What? You know I love your poetry. Let me at it!”

Oscar keeps a tight hold on his ruana and drags him to his room. He proceeds to read out his latest entries to his silently suffering father.

“’Roses are red, violets are blue, how could I live… without you?’ You see it’s about the love I have for my bed- it’s a very co-dependent kind of-“

Dad abruptly stands up and looks at his wrist for a watch that wasn’t there. “Oh jeez, that was great but it’s almost dinner time, Osito. So, time to wrap it up!”

Oscar should be offended but he’s not since this was the reaction he was after, so he laughs instead. “Sure, sure!”

He follows his relieved father downstairs and Oscar catches sight of his homework.

Oh, mierda! He totally forgot about it!

He rushes over to it and reads over the last equation he was doing, and suddenly, he can see the answer. Oscar gasps in surprise and jots it down. He stands up and cheers. “That was the last question! I did it!”

His dad chuckles warmly, “Well, taking a break from your homework helped, didn’t it?”

Oscar stares at his dad.

He did all of that just so Oscar could have a break? Just so he could have a fresh mind to look at the equation again?

He listened to Oscar’s terrible poetry for ages, just so he could help him?

Affection wells up in him, so he walks over and hugs his dad tight.

“Whoa! What’s this about?”

He says that but Oscar can feel his arms tightening around him in a hug. Teasingly Dad says, “I thought you said last week that you were too old for hugs.”

He pulls back and lightly shoves him with a grin. “Shut up, old man.”

His dad pretends to be hurt but he grins back.

Oscar suddenly wonders if his dad’s mother ever gave him a break from that demanding job he mentioned.

He has a feeling that he won’t like the answer.

…

They’ve just finished dinner as Mirabel grabs Fuega’s face and smooches her cheeks as she struggles away from her. Frustrated and exasperated, Fuega groans, “Maaami!

She chuckles as Fuega successfully gets out of her reach. Mirabel knew exactly how mortifying it was for your mom to be so affectionate with you, but as her right as her Mami, Mirabel was allowed to embarrass the birthday girl.

“What? You’re 12 today! It’s exciting!”

Fuega wipes her cheek in disgust. “Yeah, but I don’t need all of your spit on my face.”

“You know what you need?”

Her daughter looks at her suspiciously. “No. What?”

Mirabel grins mischievously and hugs Fuega tight, making the girl yelp. “You need more kisses!”

She plants kisses on her daughter’s face and head until Fuega finally let’s out a giggle- one of Mirabel’s favourite sounds in the whole world.

“Okay! Okay! Enough!”

Mirabel pulls away and sees Fuega’s eyes sparkling in amusement. Her heart clenches with love and some sadness- her little girl was growing up!

“Aw. No more kisses?”

Fuega opens her mouth to retort back at her, but stops when Bruno walks into the dining room with a cake on a serving plate and the 15-year-old twins who whisper excitedly together. Fuega’s eyes latch onto the cake and she excitedly exclaims, “Is it time for cake?”

Mirabel puts a hand over her heart and wipes a non-existent tear from her face. “Ay! My daughter loves cake more than kisses from her Mami! My heart!”

Fuega rolls her eyes and sighs, “Fine. You can have one more kiss.”

She grins as she leans down to loudly smooch Fuega’s slowly reddening cheek. Bruno smiles adoringly at them as Beatriz and Oscar snicker and coo at their clearly embarrassed sister who they all knew secretly loved her Mami’s attention.

Mirabel pulls away and her heart swells at how sweet her fiery little girl actually was as she catches Fuega’s small little smile.

She turns Fuega around and leads her towards the head of the table to sit down. Bruno places the cake in front of Fuega and kisses her red hair. He whispers, “Happy Birthday, Foo.”

“Yeah!” Beatriz cheerfully says, “Happy Birthday! I was thinking of giving you a song but instead we all pitched in to get you this!” She points at Oscar who pulls out a package wrapped in purple- Fuega’s favourite colour.

Oscar says, “We got it just for you, and Mom and Dad helped with, well, everything.”

Anticipation bubbles inside Mirabel as she watches Fuega’s face lights up and starts ripping open her present. She pulls out to reveal a purple dress with frills embroidered with fire. A dress made for dancing and twirling and for Fuega to look beautiful in; for her to dance surrounded by fire and never get burned.  

Awe softens Fuega’s face as she takes it in. Oscar and Beatriz smirk at each other in pride since it was their idea to get her the dress. They chose the colours, the design, and had asked Mirabel and Bruno to help get materials and make it.

“Sooo,” Beatriz leans in to ask, “Do you like it?”

Forgetting to be embarrassed, Fuega looks at the twins with a teary smile. “Yeah. I love it.”

Oscar’s and Beatriz’s eyebrows shoot up. Oscar gently asks, “Fuega, are you crying?”

She quickly scrubs her eyes and glares at him. “No! Shut up!”

Mirabel shares a look with Bruno, and she can see his amusement and adoration for them all in his eyes. She picks up his hand and kisses the back of it, sharing her love with him in this small moment in time. Bruno smiles in appreciation and laces their fingers together to sit them on top of the table.

Fuega admires the dress more and says, “Mami, the embroidery on this is so pretty! Thank you!”

Mirabel proudly smiles, “Thank you, mi corazón.”

She is pleased with all the embroidery she puts onto everyone’s clothes; Beatriz’s little musical notes on the collar of her jacket so she can ‘always hear the music, Mami!’. Oscar’s heart with an eye in the middle of it (a design he created all by himself!) that sits over his own heart because ‘It’s poetic, Mom!’. Fuega’s flowers she likes on her dresses because even her wild child had a soft side and ‘flowers calm me, so can you put another on this skirt, Mami? Please?”

Bruno’s new ruana with its teal colour and its embroidery of a grey rat with three little baby rats toddling after it, as they all chase after a yellow butterfly.

And one day she will add another three butterflies, fluttering in the chase forever stitched on the fabric of someone she loves.

She squeezes Bruno’s hand and gives him a pointed look. He cocks his head, asking her if she was sure. She nods with a small grin stretching onto her face. He pats her hand in understanding and stands up.

He clears his throat, and all of the kids look up at him expectantly.

“Your Mami and I have an announcement to make.”

“Are you dying?” Oscar quips.

Bruno and Mirabel send him a deadpan look.

“No. It’s good news.” Bruno straightens up and grins widely, “We’re pregnant!”

The kids stare at him in shock.

Mirabel chimes in with some jazz hands, “And it’s triplets! Ta-da!”

There’s a pause and then, “I mean, congratulations but, Papi, you’re, like, ancient- why are you having more kids?” Oscar asks incredulously.

Bruno’s signature mischievous grin spreads over his face and he innocently says, “Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much, they-“

Oscar puts his hand up to stop him as he grimaces in disgust, “Please, not that talk again. You’ve already scarred us for a lifetime, thanks.”

“I doubt that.” Mirabel mutters under her breath so that only Bruno can hear her, and it makes his face twist into a hilarious mix of pain and amusement.

Beatriz stands up and marches over to Mirabel and hugs her tight. She squeals, “I’m going to be an older sister!”

“You’re already an older sister; I’m sitting right over here.” Fuega says like Beatriz was stupid.

“Oh. Right. I’ll be an older sister! Again!”

Mirabel laughs and hugs her back. Beatriz pulls away and then hugs Bruno.

Fuega comes over to Mirabel and kisses her cheek. She quietly says, “Felicidades. Not being the youngest anymore is a pretty great present.”

Mirabel can read between the lines, and she knows Fuega’s actually super excited to meet her new siblings. “We aim to please.”

Fuega smiles and then moves onto Bruno. Oscar takes his turn with a tight hug and a congratulations with both her and Bruno and then they all sit back at the table.

“Plates first and then cake, alright?” Bruno picks up the first plate on the pile on the table and hands it to the birthday girl, “Here Fuega, your plate.”

They pass around the plates with all of their names on them and Mirabel smiles.

She may not have the family here with her, and that still stung, but she looks around the table and sees Fuega’s cheeky grin, Beatriz’s bright eyes, Oscar’s amused tilt of his head, her belly starting to show her bump for the three new children growing inside her, and Bruno’s warm look aimed her way.

All she can think is that she was finally a part of the Amazing Family Madrigal; a perfect constellation, shifted from what she originally thought she would have.

And she sees how bright they burn and loves them with her whole heart.

Abre los ojos

What do you see?

I see them, Abuela.

All of them.

And Mirabel never wants to look away.