Chapter Text
“Bruno.”
He was most likely asleep, judging by the steady rise and fall of the book laying open across his chest. Lucía crossed her arms and sighed.
He shifted and the hood of his ruana fell away from where he’d pulled it over his face. Definitely asleep.
“Ay, querido,” she murmured, and something in her softened. She smoothed his curls from his forehead. “Y aparentemente, mi futuro. Not that I’m surprised, mind you. We’re courting, it's not exactly a shock to know we’ll get married someday. It’s not the vision itself. It’s that you didn’t tell me about it. That’s the sort of thing you explicitly state, not hint at. Especially when certain other parties already know.”
A sleepy sigh was his only response.
“A little warning might have been nice.”
Nothing.
“Bruno.”
He stirred but did not wake, and she gently lifted the book off of his chest and marked the page with a leaf from the flor de quinde next to the hammock he was resting in out on the patio. She set it on the patio table and turned back to the soundly sleeping man before her.
She’d left the package from Señora Villanueva on a table in Casita’s foyer and asked Casita for directions to Bruno. The house had cheerfully obliged, Lucía had managed to avoid anyone else who was currently at home, and here she was. Under normal circumstances, she would let him sleep - but this circumstance was anything but normal.
“Bruno.” She raised her voice slightly, lightly tapping his shoulder. He jolted, then blearily blinked his eyes.
His face lit up in a sleepy smile when he saw her but it quickly fell into a frown as he took in her expression. He scrambled to sit up, leaning toward her, and nearly fell out of the hammock.
She offered her hands and he grabbed them to steady himself.
“Lucía. Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I’m…fine. I need to talk to you about something important.”
“Okay.”
“In private.”
He blinked, looking around the empty patio. “Well… ”
“More private than this.”
His smile was gone and he let go of her to rub a hand across his face, wiping away the last traces of sleep. “Uh. Are you sure everything’s okay? Because - ”
She crossed her arms and exhaled sharply. “Did you have a vision of our wedding day?”
His face went from mild concern to extreme panic in an instant. He mouthed something but no sound came out for a moment. “Ah - wha - who - ah - ”
“How did I find out? Bruno, let me count the ways. One - ” she held up a finger. “I’ve been getting strange comments on our relationship and weird reactions to my insistence at its unchanged status since the Tatiana incident – I mean, stranger than normal. I assumed they were just being rude about our continued courtship, but apparently they had inside information about our future that I did not, and now I feel like an equally rude idiot.”
Bruno winced.
“Two - ” Lucía held up another finger with each remark. “Mirabel called me ‘Tía Lucía.’ Just once. But it made me wonder. Three - Osvaldo called you my prometido. Four - Señora Villanueva commented on some white fabric I was looking at. Said it would make a nice wedding dress. And five - Ana said she was excited to start wedding planning once the road opened back up and told me you had a vision about our marriage.”
A gasp and a ‘mierda - ’ sounded from the balcony above and Bruno and Lucía both looked up.
A fern rustled and then there was the sound of footsteps beating a hasty retreat.
Bruno grimaced.
Lucía looked expectantly at him and he gulped. “More private?” He said.
She nodded.
“Oh, this is bad. What was he thinking? Idiota. What were we thinking? Julieta, we should have made him tell her. Did you know he didn’t tell her? I thought he told her. We should’ve asked. Why didn’t we ask? Why didn’t we say something? This is a disaster. I hope she chews him a new one. Le voy a meter una paliza! I - ”
“Ay, Pepa! You’re blowing flour all over the kitchen! Let me cover my bowls first!” Julieta threw herself over her bowls and a towel over her finished pandebono, trying to save them from Pepa’s wind and the sprinkles of her impending doom.
Pepa stopped abruptly and stalked outside and around to the kitchen window, taking deep breaths. Her personal storm cloud expanded overhead and the branches and flowers surrounding Casita fluttered in the breeze. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the kitchen windowsill and propped her chin in her hands, looking in at Julieta so they could continue their conversation.
“If Lucía doesn’t kill him I’m going to do the honors.”
Julieta sighed and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, readjusting her bun. “She’s not going to kill him, Pepa.”
“She better not.”
Julieta tried not to laugh. “Whose side are you on?”
Pepa scowled at her.
“They’ll work it out,” Julieta said mildly.
Pepa thundered irritably at her.
“He saw them getting married, didn’t he?”
“Hmmph.”
“It may take some time - and God help him for being an idiot - but they’ll work it out.”
“Work what out?” Camilo and Mirabel and Antonio burst into the kitchen, schoolbags slipping off of their shoulders and onto the floor and Antonio slipping off of Parce’s back. Camilo immediately reached for the pile of sliced fruit on the table, and with some slight of hand also managed to snatch a handful of pandebono from the basket on the counter behind his tía. He slid Antonio one of the rolls.
Antonio pulled himself up onto the kitchen chair and immediately began tearing it into pieces. Suddenly there were three birds, a kinkajou, and a capybara in the kitchen as well, noisily screeching and chirruping back and forth and trying their hardest to be the first to catch Antonio’s attention and get some of his snack as a treat.
“Toñito,” Julieta said, shooing them away from the counter with a towel. “What did I say about animals in the kitchen, querido?”
“Lo siento, Tía,” he said, but he was smiling. “C’mon, guys, let’s go!”
He slid off the chair and his menagerie of animal friends followed him, snuffling up any crumbs he dropped along the way.
“They’re probably talking about the ribbons,” Mirabel commented, filling a cup with water and taking a long drink.
Camilo swallowed his mouthful of bread. “I still say you should’ve let me wear the whole lot. I’d’ve been covered in green. Maybe we should all just take to wearing green. Make it the official Madrigal family color.”
“What ribbons?” Julieta and Pepa asked in tandem.
Camilo and Mirabel gave each other a look.
Bruno cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt collar and tucked his feet up under his ruana.
He’d spent five minutes finding and pulling two chairs relatively close in his bedroom and adjusting them so that he and Lucía could face each other and then sat down - only to spring back up in agitation. “Uh - coffee? Tea? You - you want something to drink?”
“No, gracias.”
“Ah - ”
“I’d like for you to tell me about this vision you had.”
“I’m sorry!” He blurted out, not bothering to even attempt sitting again. He paced around Lucía, around his chair, alternating between rubbing his hand across his forehead and tugging on his ruana and gesturing wildly in between. “I’m so sorry – I didn’t even think - and then there was the finding and the bringing home and the - the Tatiana, and then the road - and Mirabel - and when we did talk you were crying and I was crying and I knew I should tell you then but there was so much to talk about - ”
“I know,” Lucía said.
He stopped and looked at her.
“I understand why you didn’t tell me immediately. It was a lot. But Bruno - it’s been weeks.”
His shoulders slumped. “I know.”
“So why didn’t you tell me afterward?”
He hesitated.
“Bruno,” she said, struggling to find the words. “Do you have any idea how it made me feel to find out we’re getting married by mistake?”
He sat down in the chair across from her with a heavy thunk.
“It’s not - ” she sighed. “The marrying part isn’t the - the vision itself isn't the problem, Bruno.”
He gave her a skeptical look.
“Mi esposo futuro?” She prompted with a sardonic smile. “You said it. We talked about this. Remember?”
He looked down at his hands. “Yeah. I - I remember that.”
“It might’ve been a good time to tell me about the vision you had of that particular event.”
He squinted at her and squirmed in his seat. “Yeah I - I can’t really tell if you’re just really mad at me right now or if you’re teasing me too.”
Lucía sighed and she sat back in her chair. “You know, I - both? I am upset. I’m angry! I’m upset you didn’t tell me. It was embarrassing and frustrating to have to - piece it together until a friend actually told me, and it made me wonder - this - the vision - I thought it was a good thing? Do you think it’s a good thing? I want to be celebrating with you, and talking about - details and timing and how and when and if we need to talk to Josefina about things now or wait, but you didn’t tell me, not - not at all, really. I don’t think I was supposed to get that you saw a vision of us getting married from your esposo comment - was I?”
He shook his head and sunk a little further into his chair.
She looked pleadingly at him. “I don’t understand why you hid this from me. Did you not want to tell me? Did you not want me to know?”
His head jerked up in response and he froze, his eyes wide at being caught out and his shoulders tense with guilt.
Ouch. That hurt. “Why?”
She waited for what felt like an eternity while he gathered his thoughts.
“I - I just - I didn’t want you to feel – obliged,” he whispered.
Her response was so quiet it was more of a sigh than actual words. “What?”
“The first time - ”
“The first time? How many times have you seen us get married?”
He cracked his knuckles and jiggled his knee nervously. “Just - just twice.”
She waited.
“The first time I was - ” he looked up at her and he was suddenly very, very still. “I want you to know it was just me. Alone, here, and it was a gift, Lucía. I was - ” he shook his head, searching for a way to explain. “There haven’t been many times my Gift has truly felt like one. Just - something purely good and purely beautiful with no mess and no strings and no - nothing hard. But this vision was one of those times it felt like that. I was so - so - so - happy.”
He smiled at her, tense but willing her to understand, and she matched his smile - still hurt, still confused, but wanting to understand and willing to give him a chance to explain.
“But you – you’re right. I didn’t tell you because I - I didn’t want you to know. I wanted you to choose. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to marry me just because it was in your future, y'know? And maybe I just wanted to feel like - it was all you. That you’d chosen me, that you wanted me, and it wasn’t some…inevitable Fate thing.”
He sighed. “And maybe I was afraid, a little bit - not - not to marry you, but - my visions, they’re sometimes not what they seem, and if - if somehow, it wasn’t - what I thought? I was afraid that not marrying you? Not being able to have that future…it would - it would…”
He shook his head and turned his pleading, earnest, eyes to hers. “Now that I’ve seen it? I can’t imagine a future without you in it.”
Her breath caught in her throat and she held his gaze for a long moment. How could he be so dense and yet so incredibly romantic at the same time?
He snorted nervously and looked away. “Well I mean technically I can - imagine it, I guess, but ah - I much prefer the version with you.”
You chose him, she reminded herself. She couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
She chuckled and reached out - slowly, carefully - and laid her hand on his. “Just so we’re clear,” she said, her voice low. “I did choose you. I wasn’t… ‘coerced’ into a relationship with you by Fate. Whatever my future holds, I much prefer the version with you, too. And…I can’t blame you for keeping that first vision to yourself. It sounds like…a beautiful gift.”
“It was.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Plus – uh - we hadn’t even gone on an actual date yet so I didn’t want to seem – ah - ”
“Ah.”
“ - like a stage five clinger.”
Lucía’s brow furrowed. “Like a what?”
He waved away the question. “Ah – I – it’s – I didn’t want to look…crazy. Desperate. Like a total weirdo.”
Lucía sighed. It made sense. But…
“...and the second time?” She prompted, giving his hand a squeeze.
He broke away and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
“I was - relieved. It was just - relief. That we’d - found a way to save it all. The Encanto. You. Tatiana. Mirabel. Me. All of us. And…our future.”
Lucía scooted her chair around so that she was seated right next to Bruno, with their backs to the foot of the bed. She wanted to be closer, to feel like they were on the same side instead of facing off against each other. “Okay. So it was - a lot. Overwhelming. Priorities, right?”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I was a little preoccupied with saving you and the Encanto.” But he didn’t sound arrogant or even defensive. It was just a fact, and one he sounded tired of repeating.
Lucía exhaled sharply and rubbed her hand across her forehead. “That’s…fair…”
She didn't sound very convincing.
They stared at each other for a moment.
“No,” he sighed. “No it’s not. I…did remember. Afterward. I’m not a complete moron, even though I - ” he groaned - “I definitely feel like one now. I knew it probably wouldn’t stay a secret. I mean part of me kind of hoped they’d all just…not tell anyone. Or forget about that…detail. I realized I should tell you, and I was going to! It…sort of came up the day you came over, that first day right after you came home. But you were crying and we had so many things to talk about and I was a complete mess and I didn’t want to tell you then because I wanted it to be a good memory but obviously now it’s also not a good memory so nice going Bruno, messed that one up - ” he threw his hands in the air -
“Bruno.”
“ - and then we were so busy with the road, and the family, and Mirabel - you know about everything with Mirabel, and I guess, I thought - maybe the vision would come up at a council meeting or something when we were explaining everything that had happened but it didn’t.”
“Bruno.”
“And no one was exactly congratulating us - or - or commenting on how I’ve doomed you or something - so I guess I thought we – we – we – I had more time, and it wasn’t even a decision, really, it just wasn’t even something I was thinking about and I’m so stupid - stupid - stupid - ”
“Bruno!”
“Mmm?”
She sighed. “You’re not stupid.”
He narrowed his eyes at her.
“But it was stupid not to tell me.”
“I know.” He grimaced.
Lucía sighed and sat back in her chair, letting herself relax and her body mold itself against it. “I understand. It wasn’t intentional, I get it. But - could you promise me one thing?”
“What?”
“If you ever have another vision of our future - something big and important like that that affects the both of us – please tell me first. As soon as you can. It’s important that we’re a team, that we take care of these things - that we face them - together. Don’t ever let me find out something like this from someone else. Please?”
“Of - of course. I promise.”
She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. “Gracias, amor.”
He was still stiff, though, and after a moment, she lifted her head and turned to him. “In the future, what did you see? In that vision, I mean.”
He hesitated. “Oh. I can - probably show you, if you want.”
She was tempted to take him up on it, but he was still so tense. And he’d only just begun to relax after everything…
“We’re taking it easy, remember? You can show me if you want to, but you don’t have to. You can just…tell me.”
“Tell you?”
Lucía nodded and watched him carefully. “Tell me what you saw.”
“Well,” he sighed, and his voice was heavy, “this last time, the time everyone…knows about is - was - when we - we’d been searching for hours,” he mumbled. “Hours and hours for a way to bring you home, to save the Encanto. And then Mirabel asked what would happen if Tatiana came home and never left again, and I saw…”
She felt him swallow. “I saw so much about the future - our family, neighbors, f-friends, the Encanto. And part of what I saw was…us. We were all dressed up, standing in front of an altar, like this.” He shifted slightly and looped her arm through his so they reverently faced the wardrobe, arm in arm.
He released her, rubbing the fringe of his ruana through his fingers. “And I - I’d never been so relieved to spoil someone’s wedding. I was relieved, Lucía. I was scared and I was relieved and then there was so much work to do and never a good time to tell you but I should have made time and I was wrong and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you - I’m just - sorry.”
She sighed and leaned into him. “I know,” she said softly. “I get it, now.”
She sat for a moment, contemplating, and then asked - “...what about the first time?”
He stopped, his mouth twitching at the corner and his eyes became glassy as he rubbed a hand over his beard. He pressed his knuckles to his mouth and thought. For the first time since she’d woken him, he seemed to become fluid again – not stiff and jerky, but comfortable; relaxed. He smiled, just a little, to himself. When he spoke, his voice was hushed.
“The first time I was sitting here, at my desk, in my room. It was a Sunday evening. We’d just started courting. We went to church and came back here afterward and it was just - nice. A nice day. I was happy – really, really happy. And then I had a vision, and - and I saw our hands, like this.”
He shifted so that he faced her. He took a deep breath and took her hand and gently pulled her to her feet. He positioned them in front of his desk and demonstrated, cradling her hands in his.
He stared at their joined hands for a moment and then looked back up at her, suddenly shy.
“I was - I dunno what I was wearing, honestly, because you were in a dress. A lacy dress. It was very pretty, did something like – like this.” His fingertips traced the outline of it around her collarbone and around her shoulders.
Lucía smiled, goosebumps breaking out along her arms, straight up her shoulders to the nape of her neck. Any lingering irritation or hurt melted away as he described his vision with quiet reverence.
“And your hair was braided, and there were flowers in your hair.” He gently touched just above her forehead - the crown of her head - behind her ear. “And you had a veil. A short one. And we were in front of an altar. And you - you were beautiful.”
He looked at her, and she looked at him, and he flushed at whatever he saw in her eyes. “And - and you looked at me - like - like that,” he whispered, and looked down at their still-joined hands, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.
Lucía felt a lump grow in her throat. This was not a man who kept his vision of their wedding from her out of fear or carelessness.
This was a man who valued his privacy, and who treasured the vision he had of their union and was hoping to keep that private, intimate moment to himself.
This was a man who so valued her that he wanted her to freely choose a life with him for herself.
And this was a man who was forced to share that moment, that piece of himself, in an effort to bring her home and save their future. He probably didn’t even realize he was mourning the loss of that privacy. He’d made a mistake in not telling her about it afterward - a pretty big mistake - but she could forgive him that.
After all - he’d forgiven her mistakes.
She ran her hands slowly up his arms and over his shoulders and closed the space between them, brushing her thumb along the collar of his shirt and wrapping her arms around him and slowly, carefully, deliberately pressing her mouth to his.
He gasped like a man who’d been saved from the brink of ruin. His arms wrapped around her and held her tightly, and he kissed her again and again and again – hesitant at first, and then with more and more and more of himself, until she was lightheaded and her pulse sang at his every touch.
Somehow, the back of her knees hit the edge of his bed. She hadn’t even been aware they were moving at all, so focused had she been on his mouth and his fingertips.
(Maybe she could’ve stayed upright. Maybe she didn’t have to fall onto his bed.
But in that moment, she’d wanted to. And so she did, and she took him down with her.)
And now she was very suddenly focused on the weight of his hips on hers and the way his chest felt pressed against hers.
Privacy was a very hard thing to come by in either of their homes and in the Encanto as a whole, and it had been a long time since they’d had an opportunity to just – enjoy each other’s company.
And it seemed he was a man starved for her touch.
He still wasn’t quite sure how he went from napping in his hammock on the patio to panicking with guilt over Lucía finding out about his vision of their wedding to having Lucía in his bed, but here he was, and there she was, and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything but where her hands were and where his hands were and what her mouth was doing to his.
He'd lost his ruana at some point. One of her arms was wrapped around his waist; her hand radiated warmth, pressed to the small of his back, holding him flush against her. She rolled and shifted so she was half on top of him, and her other hand slid over his shirt from his chest to his neck, fingers brushing over his jaw and keeping him anchored, there, as he continued his fevered kisses and she returned them in kind. He could feel his pulse fluttering madly against her fingers.
Any thought that entered his mind to distract him was quickly pushed away - who cares - door’s locked - alone - as far as his family knew they were having a serious discussion about - she forgave -
He stopped suddenly.
She pulled away just enough to catch her breath. “Bruno?”
He blinked rapidly and it took him a moment to refocus on her as he ran through what he remembered of the past hour or so.
She rubbed her thumb along the scruff of his jawline, breathing deeply as she watched him do the same. She swallowed and he searched her still-wide, wild, darkened eyes. His mouth moved but he couldn’t seem to put into words what he was thinking or why he’d stopped.
She stared at him for a moment before her mouth tipped up into a smile. “Come here.”
She rolled off of him and shifted up, pulling him close again so that his head rested on her chest. She kissed his hair and his forehead and just held him close.
Her arms were strong and she was soft and warm and he closed his eyes and listened to the thrum of her heart beneath his ear.
His thoughts went round and round as he tried to grasp just how he got to this moment.
“...Lucía?” He whispered.
“Mmm?” He felt the hum of her answer buzz through him.
He swallowed. “This is all - ” he chuckled breathlessly - “very, very nice.”
“Mmmhmm.” She carded her fingers through his hair.
“But are we - okay?”
Her fingers stilled.
“I mean - I mean I know you - you said you understand, but - just wanted to - to make sure - ”
“Bruno,” she said softly. “I forgive you.”
He sighed with relief and relaxed into her. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“This didn’t make it obvious?” She asked, and he heard the smirk in her voice.
“Just checking” he mumbled, smiling into her.
He lay there with her, his judgment still clouded with the warm haze of intense physical attraction, and his mind wandered. All the tension between them was gone and she trailed her fingers up and down his back, leaving part of him melting into her touch, completely content, and another part of him wishing they’d finished what they started.
With a deep sigh, he shifted and propped himself up on his elbow. He smiled crookedly at her, and she smiled back, and her look of adoration reached all the way to the corners of her eyes.
“Sorry - ah - sorry for interrupting. Where were we…?” He asked hopefully. His gaze darted from her eyes to her mouth and back again. He kissed her, once, slowly, and leaned back to study her again.
She laughed softly and clamped her hand over her mouth to keep him from kissing her again. “It was probably for the best,” she said, her voice muffled.
He sighed, but he couldn’t wipe that smile off his face.
She took her hand from her mouth and affectionately tucked a stray curl of his into place behind his ear. “Mmmm. Bruno, I think - we might need to talk about - the physical aspects of our relationship. And what…we’d like to do. Or not do. Before your vision comes to pass.”
“Oh.”
Another moment.
“Oh.”
He knew what they were supposed to do - or, what they were not supposed to do. The Catholic Church’s teachings on premarital sex were pretty cut and dry. It had never been a struggle for him to follow those teachings before. Not that he’d had much temptation in that particular department before Lucía. He reasoned that she probably had more experience with this sort of thing.
“What did you do with Alejandro?” He blurted before he thought it through.
She pulled back and propped herself up on her elbow and gave him the most no-nonsense incredulous look he’d ever seen her direct at him. “...care to clarify that question?”
His face felt like it’d been lit on fire and probably looked similar in color. He pulled away and sat up, shrinking into his shoulders and covering his face with his hands. “I mean…I mean not like that! Lord, not like that.”
It took a moment to come back from nearly dying of embarrassment before he could speak again. “I meant…did you wait, or…ummmm….”
“Oh!” Lucía inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly. “We waited. Until we were married,” she clarified, pushing herself up to sit, cross-legged, beside him.
“Oh?…right,” Bruno said from behind his hands. “Right right right right. Because that's…you know, what you're supposed to do, and…and…”
“...and my padre probably would have lectured me to death if we’d done otherwise. And to be fair - there were…moments it was difficult, but - we wanted to wait, too.”
When he didn’t answer, she prompted gently, “Is…that what you want to do? Wait until marriage? Or - ”
“Yeah - ah,” Bruno said, and he lowered his hands from his face as his heart lurched. He twisted his fingers in front of his chest. “You’d – you still - you would – actually – marry me?”
He knew she would. He’d seen it. But it had always seemed like some sort of distant future, and it was crashing into his present in a way that left him feeling shocked and overwhelmed and exhilarated.
Her brows drew together but she did not look away. “Bruno. Of course I would - of course I will - when you’re ready. When we’re ready. And it’s not something that we have to plan right this minute - ”
“You would,” he said suddenly, feeling the need to clarify. “You would marry me, if I wanted to, but do - you want - ?”
She blinked and took his worrying hands in her own and she smiled down at them – and then at him. “Oh, I want to, Bruno. I want to marry you.”
She let it sink in for a moment.
He stared at her. A vision pricked at his eyes and the back of his mind but he fought it off. He wanted to be right here, with her, now in this moment - and not sucked away into a scene of the future.
“I would like to marry you one day, when you, when we, are ready. It sounds like a wonderful way to spend the rest of my life - with you, talking about the latest novels and great Shakespearean plays and dissecting Agustín and Mariano’s poetry and making up rat telenovelas and sitting next to you at mealtimes and raising Josefina together and watching her grow up and do amazing things.”
“I would like to tease you about with the way you slurp your sancocho and the way your hands never sit still, knowing full well that they are part of you and to love you is to love all of you. I would like to marry you and make love to you and remind you every day what an amazing man you are, and I’d like to give you compliments and flatter you and tease you until you turn red and start to stammer - ”
“I – I – I - ” He stammered.
“Just like that,” she said. “Exactly like that.”
He swallowed, hit with a sudden bout of nerves.
“I – I’ve – never.” He said suddenly. He ducked his head, embarrassed. “I’ve…never…been with anyone, before. That's not to say I didn't…think about it. But - it just - it never - I wasn't - ”
“Hey,” she said softly. “That’s okay. It’s – more than okay. I - ” she smiled at him, and it was different – soft and seductive. “I am not worried. We'll just take our time and learn to enjoy each other, eh? These things take time. And trial and error. And lots of talking. And laughing. And patience. But it’s also a lot of fun. If…that's something you want?” She said, carefully gauging his reaction.
“I do,” he said immediately. “Want that. With you.”
She paused. “Are you – does it bother you that I’m – not? That I’m – more experienced?”
“No!” He said. They shifted so they sat facing each other, cross-legged, and he leaned forward, taking both her hands firmly in his, his expression earnest. “No! That doesn’t matter to me at all!”
Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled again and then once again, that smile faded. “I also – since we’re on the subject - I have to tell you something.”
He waited.
“I - I don’t know - that is - I - ” She took a deep breath and tried again. “I know we’re older and this might not even be something you’re concerned about, but even when I was younger, I…struggled to conceive. With Alejandro. I don’t know - if it was – I don’t know what the reason was, but I don’t know - if - when - we do - get married, or - I just - I don’t know if you wanted…children.”
He blinked at her, and something both very old and very new stirred inside him. In all his daydreams, he'd always imagined - always seen - himself with Lucía, raising Josefina. And that was all. In all his musings, he'd always considered Josefina as the sole child he would have the privilege to love and help raise. It had never even really occurred to him that he could have another child with Lucía.
The thought was kind of terrifying, if he was being honest. Josefina was who she was in large part because of her parents.
What would a child of his be like?
Lucía squeezed his hands and he stared at them and squeezed back.
Well. Any child of his would be hers, too.
And that would be a gift in and of itself.
He took a deep breath.
“I…if it happens, it happens, and – I’d – be grateful for it.” He smiled nervously at her. “But Lucía? If it never happens - you and Josefina are enough. You’re more than enough for me.”
It must have been a good answer, because she smiled and leaned forward until her forehead rested on his. “Bruno Madrigal, you're a wonder.”
“Mmhmm. It's a wonder how dumb I can be sometimes.” When she sighed and shook her head, he chuckled. “And…it’s a wonder that I have you.”
He knocked on his bedpost several times, ending with his head.
She laughed and kissed his nose and his cheek. He smiled back, and he leaned forward and rested his head on her shoulder, nuzzling her neck until she giggled and wiggled away. He didn’t let her go far and pulled her close to him again. Lucía slid so she sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist. He did the same to her, resting his head against hers.
“Promise I’ll tell you first thing if there’s anything else the future feels like showing me about us,” he mumbled.
She sighed. “Gracias. It just felt - strange, you know? To have everyone assume that because we’re getting married in the future, of course we must already be engaged and deciding on fabric for my dress and choosing the menu…”
She snorted, and suddenly the original reason for her coming to talk to the Madrigals hit her full force.
“Oh no. The ribbons.”
“Ribbons?” Bruno asked, confused. “I mean, I don’t think we have to worry about that right now. Unless ribbons are a big thing in your family? You have some sort of ribbon tradition?”
“No,” Lucía’s chuckle turned into a groan. “Not ribbons for the wedding…ugh. Bruno, we have a little bit of a problem.”
“One that will make my ‘I didn’t tell you about our wedding vision’ problem seem small in comparison?” He asked hopefully.
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Okay, too soon – too soon!”
“Please, Osma. Please give them back. I’ll - I’ll pay you for the lot.” Osvaldo wiped his brow nervously.
“Why? I think it was a great idea. Lots of people have asked me for ribbons. Everyone’s taking them. If you ask me - ”
“I am asking you, Osma. I’m asking for all the ribbons back. Lucía said - ”
“Lucía? What’s she worried about? Majority of the Encanto is choosing green, anyway. She should be happy to see how many supporters she and Bruno have.” Osma dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand.
“But - ”
“No.”
A sudden gust of wind blew along the road and the sign above the Pezmuerto’s food stall swung in the breeze.
Osvaldo turned and nearly jumped out of his skin. Pepa Madrigal stood behind him, arms crossed and scowling at the two of them. A small personal cloud flashed with lightning above her and her red hair blew haphazardly about her head, and it was like the Fire of God had settled on her shoulders.
Typical Pepa. Osma lifted her chin and refused to be intimidated. “Can I help you?” She asked her casually.
“The ribbons.” Pepa glowered.
“Of course,” she said. “Come to get some green for your hermano?” Her voice was even and professional but her smirk did not quite reach her eyes.
“I want the green. And the pink.” Pepa said flatly.
Osma’s hand paused over the basket. She looked from Osvaldo to Pepa and narrowed her eyes. “Green and pink?” A slow smirk curved up her mouth. “Could there be trouble in La Casa Madrigal?”
“Actually,” Pepa said, “I’ll take the entire basket. Of both.”
Señora Pezmuerto’s face went blank. “The whole basket?”
“All of them. The pink and the green.” The lightning flash reflected in her eyes.
Osma frowned. “I don’t think - ”
“I’ll take all the pink and all the green.”
Osma Pezmuerto straightened and lifted her chin. “You can have some ribbons. You cannot just - ”
“Oh, come on!” Pepa threw up her hands. “All the ribbons, Osma. All of them.”
“But - ”
“If you’re not going to give them to me, give them back to Osvaldo.” She nodded over her shoulder. “Sell them back to Osvaldo. I don’t care which. Just get rid of them and don’t even think about passing those stupid things out again.”
Osvaldo winced.
Osma sniffed. “We have a right - ”
“ - to be una entrometida metiche?” The three of them turned to see Julieta walking determinedly up to the food stall. If Pepa had power-stalked here, Julieta had been purposeful but unrushed.
“It’s my stall. I can do as I please.”
By now the wind was so strong the signs on all the nearby stalls were swinging violently in the wind.
“Really? You can do as you please at your stall, without regard for how it affects anyone else? Interesting. I’ll have to remember that at mine.” Julieta said softly, never breaking eye contact.
Osma’s eyes widened and she gave Julieta a mildly impressed once-over.
“Is this really the best you can do for entertainment, Osma?,” Julieta said in that same dangerously soft tone. “Might I suggest a new hobby? Try taking accordion lessons. Perhaps a new pet? Give a goldfish another go?”
Osvaldo and Osma gasped in tandem.
“ - whatever you do, stop making things difficult for mi hermano by encouraging people to label themselves as for or against him. He makes things difficult enough for himself without your interference.”
Osma glowered at the two sisters but sighed and handed over the baskets of green and pink ribbon.
Julieta passed them right into Osvaldo’s arms.
“Take care of these, please. Find a better use for them. Gracias, both of you. If you’ll excuse us,” She nodded at them and then turned, pulling Pepa behind her.
The wind had changed, now - less cold and biting and more warm and playful - almost like her wind was laughing.
“I thought she was supposed to be the nice one,” Osvaldo said, stunned.
Osma crossed her arms and tsked knowingly next to him. “Isabela had to get it from someone.”
Pepa looked over her shoulder at them, a grin spreading across her face. The sun slowly pierced the clouds around her as she wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulders, threw back her head, and laughed.
By the time Bruno and Lucía came down from his room, the ribbon situation had already been dealt with, to their great relief. Pepa and Julieta told them that they had nailed the final lid on the ribbon coffin by collecting the remaining ribbons from Osma, and apparently Osvaldo had been nervously and apologetically suggesting to people that they use the ribbons he’d already handed out for something else. Anything else, really.
Lucía and Josefina and Señor Hernandez were invited to dinner at La Casa Madrigal that evening, and Lucía made it a point speak to everyone she saw still wearing a ribbon - green or pink. She very reasonably pointed out to the pink ribbon wearers that dividing the town would ostracize not only Bruno but Tatiana as well, and if they were trying to support Tatiana perhaps they could visit her instead. While some obliged to her request to remove them and some did not, she felt better about how short-lived the whole thing would hopefully end up being.
Lucía told Bruno that she would speak with Josefina about his vision and let him know how she reacted to all of it, and so as soon as she got home she sat beside Josefina at the kitchen table, where Josefina was concentrating intently on a drawing she was doing for a school assignment on Advent and Navidad, which was rapidly approaching.
Lucía sliced up a mango and sat beside her daughter and watched her as she worked, and they chatted about school and Josefina’s day and what she wanted to do that weekend with her friends.
Lucía swallowed and rubbed her palms against her skirts as she watched Josefina’s head bent over her work. “Josefina?”
“Mmm?” Josefina hummed.
“Bruno had a vision we think you should know about.”
Josefina’s brow wrinkled slightly as she selected another color crayon for her work. “I thought he wasn’t doin’ those any more.”
“Well, he isn’t – not officially. But he still gets them once in a while and he – he actually had this one…a while ago.”
“Oh. What was it?”
“Um. Fresita, he had a vision of him and I – of us getting married.”
That caught her attention. Josefina put her crayon down and looked at her mother with wide eyes. “You’re getting married?!”
“Well -”
“You can’t!”
Lucía’s heart sank a little but she prepared herself to hear what Josefina had to say. “Bebé - ”
“I’m supposed to play with Juancho and Cecilia and Alejandra this weekend! And I don’t have a dress! And you don’t even have a dress, do you…?!” Josefina peered at her madre suspiciously.
Lucía relaxed. “Oh – no, no - not yet. We’re not getting married this weekend.”
“And not like…today, right?”
“No, Josefina. It won’t be today or this weekend or even this year.”
“This year?”
“…it’s almost Diciembre, bebé.”
Josefina sighed with relief. “Oh, right. I forgot. Well that’s fine then.”
Lucía waited for her to comment further, but Josefina picked up her crayon and continued work on her Advent drawing – something that looked suspiciously like an angel with extra heads, eyes, and wings.
“That’s all, mija?”
Josefina tilted her head. “Maybe I should add some more eyes?”
“Not the - ” Lucía bit back a laugh. “I’m talking about the vision. You’re…okay with it? With Bruno and I getting married?”
“Sí. Next year, right?” Josefina said, glancing at her madre.
“Sí, fresita. Most likely sometime next year.”
Josefina nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if she’d known all along and it wasn’t a surprise at all. Suddenly, she put her crayon down and turned to face her madre. “Are you…engaged?”
“Ah - ” Lucía paused. “That’s – a good question. Some people think that because of that vision, we are, but - ”
“You got a ring?”
“What?”
“Do you have a ring like Mariano gave Dolores?” She reached for Lucía’s hands.
Lucía held up her hands and allowed Josefina to inspect them. “No – no, not yet. No ring - ”
Josefina frowned. “Well then you’re not engaged. Right? You gotta have a ring to be engaged.”
Lucía smiled. “I – I suppose so. We haven’t talked about that yet. To answer your question – no, I suppose we are not engaged, but we probably will be soon, and we will probably be married…I don’t know…sometime in the next year or so?”
“When’s soon?” Josefina demanded.
Lucía sighed. She wished she’d had more time to talk with Bruno, but they’d covered a lot of ground before they'd gotten distracted with Osvaldo’s ribbon fiasco. “I – don’t know. Sometime between now and sometime next year?”
Josefina frowned and looked away. “Okay.”
Lucía turned so that she fully faced her daughter, and she scooted Josefina’s chair so that she faced her as well. Josefina stared down at her feet.
“Mija,” Lucía said gently. Josefina didn’t look up. “A lot has happened recently. Many good things, but some very scary things too. I know this is a lot to think about and another big change, but also one that has not officially happened yet. I wanted to tell you because some other people know about that vision and assume that Bruno and I are already engaged, or that we are getting married very soon, or that we are already planning the wedding. But we’re not, yet. It will happen one day, but we haven’t started planning anything without you.”
“And you won’t plan anything without me, right?” Josefina said, finally meeting her mother’s eye.
“Lo prometo, bebé. You will be the first to know when we truly are engaged.” She made a mental note to fill Bruno in on that promise.
Josefina nodded. “Okay.” She thought about it for another moment and then grinned mischievously at her madre. “Will I get a ring too?”
Lucía laughed. “No, mija.” At the look on Josefina’s face, she shook her head affectionately. “But – perhaps we can think of something special for you, to show you’re joining the family too, hmmm?”
Josefina nodded enthusiastically. “Sí! And I get to pick my dress, right?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“…do I get to pick your dress?”
“I will pick my dress,” Lucía said firmly. “When it is time. That will happen after we get engaged.”
She spent the remaining time before dinner at Casita answering Josefina’s questions about engagements and weddings and their future to the best of her ability.
Bruno was quiet during dinner.
Bruno was usually quiet during dinner, but Lucía thought it strange that no one really broached the topic of his vision at the table. There was talk of Dolores and Mariano’s wedding, and Félix had winked at her and said they were looking forward to planning another, and everyone had agreed - and that had been it.
Osvaldo's ribbons and talk of los pesebres for Navidad dominated the rest of the meal.
Lucía volunteered to help wash dishes after dinner. She laughed as Julieta and Pepa retold their encounter with Osvaldo and Osma, and waved away their apologies for assuming Bruno told her about his vision – and teared up when they hugged her and told her they were looking forward to having another sister. By the time she was done the children were all playing behind Casita and Bruno had disappeared.
“Where’d he go?” She asked the empty courtyard, drying her hands on her skirt.
Casita waved her tiles toward the stairs.
“Upstairs?” She asked.
Casita clacked in the affirmative and gave her a nudge in that direction.
She allowed Casita to guide her up the stairs and to a balcony and there the trail ended – or so she thought. “He’s not here?” She said to the house, gesturing to the empty space.
Casita flapped a shutter at her and pointed to the edge of the balcony, where the roof was in reach of the railing. The tiles lifted in a line to point at the railing, and the railing shifted to reach to the roof, and the roof tiles continued to point the way up and around the gable to the peak.
“He’s on the roof?” She said incredulously.
Casita opened and shut a shutter cheerfully.
“The roof.”
Casita turned the tile she was on to face the accessible piece of roof and tilted it so she was forced to step forward.
Toward the roof.
“Have I offended you somehow?” Lucía asked nervously.
Casita nudged her gently, once again, toward the place where the roof was in reach of the balcony.
“He’d better be up there.”
Casita didn’t have eyes to roll, but Lucía was fairly certain that the wave of tiles was just that.
She took a deep breath and tugged on the railing.
Steady.
“Please don't let me fall,” she muttered, and it was half prayer to God, half petition to Casita.
It was a struggle - Casita gave her a boost and caught her foot when she slipped once - but she found him on the roof, right where Casita told her he'd be. The sun had already slipped behind the first mountain peak but hadn't fully set, and he was a golden shadow against a jeweled sky.
“Hey,” she said.
He turned to squint over his shoulder and his face lit up with pleased surprise. He scooted over, patting the roof beside him. “Hey.”
She settled cautiously on the roof next to him, lowering herself slowly, bit by bit, holding one arm out for balance, until she sat with a final thwump on the warm tiles. She wasn't sure if she was more concerned for him or herself, and she latched onto his arm and braced her feet against the tiles, holding on for dear life.
He threaded his fingers through hers and held her fast beside him.
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the mountains shadows lengthen over the Encanto, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
“What’re you doing up here?”
“Oh – it’s – this is our spot,” he said, as if it explained everything.
It did not.
“Whose spot?”
“Uh – my sisters and I. We – came up here a lot as kids. Pepa and Julieta brought Félix and Agustín up here when they wanted some time alone. Mamá didn’t give us too much grief about it, because – heh – I mean, there wasn’t too much we could get up to on the roof. But she also never followed us up here.”
“Can’t say that I blame her.”
He chuckled. “We came up here when we needed to talk, or to think.”
“Mmm. So,” she said softly. “What’re you thinking about?”
“Ah…everything…go okay with Josefina?” he asked, brushing some dirt off of the tiles next to him, just for the sake of keeping his hands busy.
“She was fine with it as long as it wasn’t this weekend,” Lucía said seriously, trying not to smile. “She said she already had plans for this one.”
He snorted and smiled to himself. “’Course she does.”
After a pause, he added softly. “So...we’re good?”
“We’re good.” She reassured him.
He took a deep breath. “Are we…”
She lifted her head and smiled at him.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Are we what?” She prompted.
“...are we…y’know…engaged?”
“Oh. Ah -” She blinked rapidly. “I…”
“...so that’s a no,” Bruno laughed nervously. “That’s a no.”
Lucía squinted at him. “I mean - was that a proposal?”
“Was what a proposal?”
She raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. “Seeing our wedding in a vision and letting the town tell me instead of you? Or calling me your future esposo? Asking me if we’re engaged as I try valiantly not to fall to my death on the roof of Casita? Any of those?”
He groaned. “Okay, well, when you put it like that…”
“Mmmm,” she hummed. “And…I did promise Josefina that she would be the first to know when we do get engaged. And it’s very important we keep that promise, Bruno.”
“Of course,” he said.
There was a moment of silence, and then Lucía cocked her head as she turned to look at him. “Do you want to be?”
“Want to be what?”
“Engaged, Bruno!”
“I - yes. Of course I do. I mean, I want to marry you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Which is not entirely the same thing as being engaged to me.”
“...no, I mean - s’pose it’s technically not. Just - just the next step. To get to being married. Which to be fair is the part I really want.”
He accentuated each word with a gesture, using the hand she wasn’t currently still clinging to. “Courtship. Proposal. Engagement. Wedding. Marriage. That’s how it - uh - usually goes. And while I kinda want to experience all of it...after today, I was thinking,” he said, “how nice it would be if we could skip straight from the courtship here - ” he pointed vaguely in the air before them – “to – to the married, there.” He pointed further down the line.
Lucía laughed out loud.
“I want to be engaged. I want to be married. But…I don’t really like crowds,” he said by way of explanation. "And I really, really, really like you."
She shook her head fondly as he stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on his free hand. She hadn't quite relaxed enough to let go of his other one.
“I really, really, really like you too," she said. "You want to know what I think we should do?”
Bruno titled his head and raised his eyebrows, encouraging her to go on.
She put all the love and affection she could manage in her smile. “I think…we should wait. Just a little longer, before we get engaged.”
His eyebrows drew together.
“...and not because of this - what happened today,” she rushed to reassure him. “It’s just - we’re reopening the Encanto. The holidays are coming up - Navidad, birthdays, the New Year. Dolores and Mariano are in the middle of planning their wedding. It’s a lot. And - we still have to talk with Josefina together - make sure she’s prepared, herself, for all the changes that will come. I know it will happen. And I’m looking forward to it. But – we don’t need to do something or be something just because everyone else expects us to be. We have plenty of time to plan, to adjust, to take things as fast or as slowly as we want.”
“Huh.” He hummed thoughtfully and lifted their joined hands to study them. “Plenty of time to…pick out a ring?”
She smiled. “Sure. An apparently very knowledgable six year old told me that those are the key to a proper engagement.”
“Very knowledgeable. Very wise," he said solemnly. "And - just – so we’re on the same page...what is ‘plenty of time’?”
Lucía squeezed his hand and scooted a little closer, careful to keep as many points of contact as possible on the roof at all times. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he let go of her hand to put his arm around her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled into him. “Let’s say – after Dolores and Mariano get married in January?”
“Mmm?”
“It’s just – I don’t want to steal their thunder,” she teased. “Let them be the center of attention for a while. They deserve it.”
“Mmm.”
“And after they’re married?” She shrugged with a smile. “…I’ll let you decide when.”