The Mask I Wear

A Mother's Worries

            Somehow, impossibly, the day passed without much incident. The family prepared Casita for the prestigious Guzman family to join them as Julieta planned the meal. She would continue to flit around the kitchen though much of the day, as she had been doing since early morning. Healing food needed to be ready, but her mama demanded this meal be perfect. Julieta knew she should be happy with all of the things her mother had planned for her sweet child, her eldest daughter, but something inside her just... wasn't. Her instincts told her Isabela was going to be miserable, hiding behind a placid mask, and she wasn't the only one.

Letting her mind think back, she continued to stir the mixture in front of her slowly. She thought back to their sweet children growing up, being young and learning what love from someone else could mean. She remembered feeding the girls sweet treats while they gossiped and shared secrets. For all the years of boy-talk she had been expecting, Isabela never once displayed interest in a boy before. Even now, with the impending engagement Alma had set up, she still didn't. Luisa and Mirabel never seemed to care much yet, either. The only one she remembered ever really fawning over a boy was Dolores and it broke her heart that the only boy she had ever fawned over was the very one set to marry her cousin.

The first time Dolores had mentioned his name she fawned over how nice he was, how sweet. The next time she shared about how loving he was, how he took care of his mother and made her proud. The last time she swooned over his romantic poetry and wishes for a family. Dolores had well and truly been hooked on this boy since childhood and nothing she had heard had ever dulled her interest. In fact, if anything, listening to this boy's voice was one of the only saving graces her niece's gift gave her. Normally it was difficult for her to calm down when things would become overwhelming, but when she began focusing on one voice among the noise and what was in front of her, she suddenly blossomed. She was able to focus and actually help people and not be stuck crying in a corner from the cloudiness and headaches her gift produced that no amount of healing food would fix.

Isabela, by contrast, cared very little for any boys in town. The only interest she showed was in teasing Dolores whenever she would swoon over Mariano. She even displayed interest in setting them up, but her interest was never personal. In fact, she had vehemently denied any interest in boys whenever she was prodded.

As she moved on to the next step in her baking for the town, Julieta turned her thoughts away from the two eldest girls and to her own youngest. Something was going on with Mirabel, something had happened last night, and she felt worry bubble and form a pit in her stomach. Her sweet baby was hurting and had been for a while. Yet she was unwilling to talk about the things that were bothering her. Even while she was so energetic, much like her primo Camilo, Mirabel had always been so guarded with her thoughts and problems. She preferred to fight her own battles. But whatever this battle was, Julieta could see it eating and eating and eating away at her joyful, creative, bubbly daughter until she was starting to become a shell of herself. And it worried her, it worried her immensely. She wondered what mama had her doing to help today, if it was a task worthy of her talented daughter or something menial meant to keep her out of the way.

As much as she wanted to go join them right now and pull it from one of the girls, or even Camilo, she knew that mama would not be pleased if she left the kitchens when her duties were still unfulfilled. Perhaps Dolores had been awake to hear whatever it was that happened with Mirabel last night. Perhaps she would be inclined to share with the worried mother. Julieta was resolved to ask her later, as soon as she could pull her aside for a moment. If anything, she would ask Dolores to keep an ear out for Mirabel. In the meantime, Julieta had much, much more baking to do that required her absolute full attention. Tiredly turning back to her job, she let all of her frustrations go into her baking, thankful she didn't have to be gentle.