Chapter 13: Dolores Madrigal

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Dolores remembered when she was 11 years old, after Mirabel's ceremony, how loud she could hear her prima cry. How she asked between sobs for a second chance from Abuela, who she heard talking to tia Julieta in the kitchen. She could easily recall how little Mirabel gasped for air as if she was drowning, sobbing into what sounded like the fabric of her pillow. Each pat on her back from her tio Agustin, Mirabel's father, echoed in her ear.

    Dolores remembered when she was 21 years old, at Antonio's ceremony, how she heard Mirabel walking out of her brother's room, talking to herself about how she wished she were special. How she longed for a gift like the rest of her familia. The night that dominoed into the fall of her home. She heard Mira running through the walls chasing after their tio Bruno, not long before she rushed her family to Casita's entrance. In fear of the sound of the cracks growing louder and stronger.

    Dolores remembered when last night, she walked with her husband though the quaint town. Watching as the people celebrated this, apparently wonderful couple. How she asked a woman in a soft orange dress and pink headwrap who the couple was, inquisitive of the two people who were so beloved by the town. How the woman went on about this "Mira and Andro." How Mira had shown up out of the blue and helped the town become better, friendlier- how she forged it from a village to a home. She recalled how the woman pointed them in the direction of the house that had more of that scrumptious causa rellena that she and Mariano couldn't get enough of.

    Dolores remembered when she walked up to the open door of the house, only to see her cousin. How Mariano was confused when she stopped in her tracks to look at the curly headed girl dancing with the tall man. How he finally looked up and saw her. Mirabel. Mariano, being the perfect man he was, gently pulled Dolores out of her trance, leading her out of the house and stood with her right outside of the open window. Despite being in complete shock, the woman had one thought crystal clear in her mind. I need to find Isabela. And Luisa. And maybe Antonio- no. Definitely Antonio. So she sent Mariano to get them.

    Everything seemed so calm at breakfast, to her at least. She was never fully affected by Mirabel's disappearance. Of course, she missed her prima. Dolores was anything but heartless. But that night that her home fell caused her life to become better and better. While Mariano helped rebuild their house, the two bonded and found they had quite a lot in common, with one not being heard, and the other never being seen. After some courting, a wedding and a simple life together for a few years, the two brought two beautiful children to the Madrigal family.

    But the icing on the cake, the best part of it all? The loss of her gift. Dolores' only time of solace for 16 years was in her sound proof room, where she couldn't hear anything. But once she stepped out she was forced to hear everything. Conversations across town, a cricket chirping deep in the woods, abuela asking her to hurry up so she could go into town and help with chores. She hated her gift, but had to endure. But everything changed when the house fell and Mirabel disappeared. As sad as it was, it brought her so much joy.

Dolores blinked back into the conversation with her husband, cousin, and now cousin in law, Mercedes. She tunes back into the old memories that they spoke about, feeling dazed for a moment before regaining her consciousness and laughing with her cousin- er, cousins? The Salazars were kind, but it would take a long time before she got used to them.

Mirabel had left. Apparently, a child had fallen into the well, so Mirabel left to go help him, leaving the Salazars in a bit of an awkward position. But the young mother had a feeling that Mirabel may have wanted to leave. She felt bad, ambushing her prima like this, with almost the whole family too. But Dolores couldn't think of anything else to do. She couldn't confront Mirabel herself, she'd probably end up accidentally talking about how much happier she was since she left. She definitely couldn't send Mariano to talk to her. He's Mariano. What could he and Mirbel possibly talk about. Finding her familia was the only real choice she had.

Mercedes and her parents were kind. Dolores had decided that she liked them. Especially Mercedes, who had many stories of Mirabel, or "Mira" as they all called her. Apparently, ever since she arrived, Mirabel had become quite the hero to the town, constantly helping people with her myriad of ideas or simply mending someone's shirt.

She must feel like how we felt when we had our gifts. Dolores thought to herself. Is that why she likes it here? Each gift was exhausting. Some more than the others. Dolores could never imagine having Luisa's gift, or even her own mothers. But the gifts put each Madrigal, except for Mirabel, on a pedestal by the townspeople. Moving rivers, growing crops, and healing what's broken is bound to do that. Mirabel never fully understood the family's hurt and trauma, but she also never got to experience the many, many  benefits they had as a family. After all, she was the giftless Madrigal. The especially unspecial. How could she understand it?

How could any of them understand her?

How could any of them understand her?

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