Camilo heard the knock on his door, but he really did not want to get up yet. This bed was extremely comfortable. When the knock came again, he sighed, yelled “Enter!” and pulled his pillow and blanket over his head.

“Camilo, we need your help downstairs,” it was his sister’s voice and Camilo groaned, “Come on sleepy head, we need to have things ready before Mamá gets up.”

“Why?” In answer to his question, Casita tilted his bed just enough that he rolled with his blankets, out of it on the floor. “Hey!”

“Really, Cam, don’t tell me you forgot what today is?”

What was the date today? His mind raced through some possibilities, but nothing of note came to mind. He had kind of lost track of the calendar…so answered in a sheepish tone, “Maybe?”

Dolores sighed, “You forgot your own Mamí’s birthday…”

“Of course not,” Camilo said as he flung the pillow away, trying to sit up as he struggled to disentangle himself from the blankets. “I did not forget…it just had not occurred to me yet.”

Dolores made no move to help him and said, “You're responsible for the cake. You can make one big one or three smaller ones. That’s up to you, but you’d better pull it together, hermanito, or you’re gonna miss breakfast.”

He had half a mind to shout, but Dolores pinned him with a look that made him change his mind and go limp. Dolores nodded and was out the door. How did she do that? Camilo shifted to Juancho, a smaller child in the Encanto, and the blankets finally let go. He crawled out, stood up and shifted back to himself. Shape-shifting definitely came in handy sometimes. His foot was still tangled in the blankets, so he kicked it and stubbed his toe on the headboard. He grabbed a clean shirt, put it on and jerked his ruana over his head. Sitting on the bed, he looked around for his sandals and regretted ever sharing with his bossy older sister that he liked to bake.

Casita bounced his shoes to him, and Camilo stopped and smiled. Until that moment, he did not realize just how much he missed Casita and the little things it did for him. For everyone really. He was never one to talk to Casita but said, “Thanks Casita.” There was a short musical clatter of tiles that Camilo took as ‘you’re welcome.’ He put on his sandals and headed for the kitchen.

Mirabel woke a little before dawn, the way she usually did, sat up in her bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Not quite awake, Casita bumped her glasses to her and Mira put them on. As she focused on the room around her, her breath caught, it was real, not a dream. There were parts of her room she had not seen too clearly the night before, since it was late when she finally got up the gumption to go inside. Now that it was morning and the Casita had opened the shutters, flooding the room with light, Mirabel slowly looked this way and that. She broke into a wide smile as she flopped back on her pillow and followed the mountains up the wall. Their tops were cloudy, but the sky above her head was mostly clear. Mirabel did a quick double take when she noticed the wispy clouds above her were moving lazily across the ceiling.

“Thank you, Casita. Everything is just so beautiful and…and…,” Mira wanted to say perfect but couldn’t, that word scared her…it was, though. She sat up again and felt the tears as they fell down her smiling cheeks. The tears did not stop when she climbed out of her new bed and poked the mattress, so soft. She spun around happily, and Casita did its best to keep her from falling over things that she was not used to being there. There was a soft knock and Mira quickly grabbed her robe and said, “Come in.”

Luisa poked her head in, and she too was smiling, but it turned to concern when she saw her sister’s tears.

“Mira, what’s wrong?” Luisa asked as she entered and closed the door behind her.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just never…” Mirabel faltered and was a little embarrassed when her tears started up again, “Just never thought it could happen, you know?

Luisa took two steps toward her and swept her baby sister up in a hug. “Do not be sad, Mira. No one deserves this more than you.”

“I’m not sad, these are happy tears.” Mirabel said once Luisa set her down. “I’m just…”

“Overwhelmed?” Luisa offered as she looked wide-eyed at here room.

“Yeah.”

“I get that. My own room is so different, Mira. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“Oh, what’s it like?”

“Nope, you’ll have to wait, ‘til you can see it in person.”

“Can’t we go now?”

“Wow, you are overwhelmed; did you forget what today is?”

Mirabel’s eyes went wide. “Birthdays! Oh my gosh! Oh Antonio, I promised to…”

“Slow down there little missy, Isa’s got that handled. Just wait ‘til she shows you what she learned to do with her Gift. Besides, I need you to help with breakfast. There is no way I was gonna let Isa help…probably poison us all.” Luisa laughed as she opened Mira’s closet, pulled out her clothes and laid them on the bed. “I’m gonna head downstairs, Dolores is already making the coffee and juice. See you in a few minutes.”

Luisa left, so Mirabel got dressed and pulled her unruly hair into a kerchief. As she was leaving, she noticed the picture on the inside of her door had changed. The little tree was a bit bigger. The tiny leaves she saw last night were now fully formed. There was no change to the bigger tree, and the butterflies were in the same spots as before. Papá had said Casita was trying to show her something about her future, but she still had no idea what. That made her look at Abuela’s door. It was open, but she was not there. The floor bounced her lightly and she remembered what she was supposed to be doing and hurried down to the kitchen.

Alma woke to the sound of several rats squeaking near her. She sat up and remembered she was in Bruno’s room. She looked out the nearby window, it was a beautiful day. So, she turned back to the high-backed chair and looked again at the rats atop it. They appeared to be waving at her, and Alma’s heart sank. She hurriedly got up and went around the chair. Bruno was awake, but his hands were shaking terribly and Alma remembered the teacup, it was here last night. Maybe there was still some draft left that Julieta had made the night before. She scanned the room until her eyes landed on the cup. She rushed over to it and saw that Bruno had not drunk all of it.

She picked it up with unsteady hands, almost spilling its contents as she came around in front of him and held the cup to his lips. Bruno took a sip, and the trembling eased enough for him to take the cup from her. He drank the rest and let out a relieved sigh and relaxed and said with a mirthless grin, “I’m gonna have to have Juli bottle that stuff.” Alma sat heavily onto the sofa and took a few deep breaths to calm her own nerves.

“I’m alright now Mamá, thank you,” Bruno said and stood up. He walked over to the desk and pulled out the sketches he had made the night before. He paused, looking at something there. He slowly closed the drawer and instead of returning to the chair, Bruno sat next to her on the sofa. Alma stared at him in disbelief but smiled and so did her son. It was a wry smile, but not a forced one. He handed her the sketches and said, “Sorry, I got a little carried away once I got started.”

Alma took them with a quivering hand, but she couldn’t really look at them. The tears were coming, tears for all the remembered pain she had caused him. There were not enough words for her to say, or even to try to mend that rift. She had all but broken her only son. Forgiveness was truly impossible. A tear dripped onto the paper, then another. Her head came up when Bruno put one arm around her shoulder and the other on her hands, and he said very gently, “We’ll get through this, Mamá. From the beginning, yes?”

They sat like that for a while until Alma took a deep breath and nodded. She handed him back the sketches and said as she dabbed her eyes and cleared her throat, “I think we will do this tomorrow. Your sobrinos are preparing a surprise for you and your hermanas this morning.” Alma rose from the sofa and said, “I am supposed to be helping them.” She paused as she looked at his door, what she noticed made her smile. She turned after opening it and said, “Ten un buen cumpleaños, Brunito.”

“Gracias, Mamá, lo haré.”

Alma returned to her room, but paused as she passed through Mirabel’s portion. Casita had made a point of reflecting all of Mira’s many talents in its construction. The floor, walls and ceiling were unusual, though. Alma could see the edges of the Encanto’s building peeking out from the edges of the rug, but she had no time to investigate that now. She went to her bedroom and changed into her regular clothes and went down to the kitchen.

Half expecting there to be chaos, she was pleasantly surprised to find everything was going smoothly. She watched from the door as Luisa directed the activity. They all did what she asked quite promptly. Alma noted Isa’s absence and was relieved. That one could not be left to watch over anything that would be eaten. She was likely with Antonio, as he was missing also. Mirabel was making arepa’s and keeping an eye on the sausages while they cooked. Camilo was ladling something into some baking dishes, while Dolores was cleaning strawberries and chatting with Luisa as she set the table. All in all, they did not actually need her, she was about to turn back to the plaza when she heard Dolores say, “Good Morning, Abuela.” The other’s turned, and they too smiled and said good morning to her.

“Come sit, Dolores has made your coffee already,” Luisa said and turned to pick up the cup Casita had filled. She set it delicately on the table that was near the window overlooking the patio. Luisa did a quick double take and said, “I mean, if you'd like to, Abuela.”

Alma came over to the small table and laid a hand on Luisa’s arm, “Thank you, Luisa. I think I will do that; you have everything well in hand, and the aguapanela smells delicious, Dolores.” She sat down and everyone returned to their tasks. Luisa moved over to the stove to check on the eggs that were boiling.

Alma sipped her coffee and she realized that Camilo was putting a cake in to the oven. She had not realized he had an interest in cooking. Eating, yes, but cooking? Once all the baking dishes were in the oven, he went over to where Mirabel was and snitched a few fresh arepas from the top of the stack. Mirabel waggled a wooden spoon at him, but she was smiling as she asked, “So what kind of cake is it?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Really?”

“No, I’m making a Tres Leches. Tía’s own recipe.”

“Oh wow, that one has so many steps, how do you keep them all straight without a recipe card?”

“With magic, of course,” and he quickly shifted from himself to Julieta and back again. Mirabel laughed, then realized the arepas were burning. She removed the finished ones and flipped the rest with practiced ease.”

Abuela lost track of them as she turned to look out the window and wondered again. Just how far away were the people in the mountains. Maybe they should search, but she knew without an idea of which way to look, it was likely they would not be found. She reminded herself that they could look for those answers tomorrow. Casita’s tiles were tapping a happy tune on the nearby windowsill, and Alma closed her eyes and remembered birthdays long ago with a mixture of sorrow and joy…it almost seemed like yesterday.

Julieta awoke to the smell of freshly brewed mint tea and smiled at the man who was ever so carefully setting it on her bedside table.

“Happy Birthday, mi amor,” he said, sitting on the bed next to her. “I’m going to tell you now; you are not allowed to leave this room until breakfast is ready,” Agustín said and helped adjust her pillows as she sat up. “I, too, have been told I also may not enter.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I am to use all means necessary…” he leaned in close and added, “So you know what that means, right?”

“Do I?”

Agustín leaned in closer and said, “It’s time…to…make a sandwich.”

Julieta pushed him playfully and said, “You’re so weird.”

“Admit it, woman, you like weird.”

“So, I do.”

Félix awoke to the sounds of drawers being opened and closed with gusto. He sat up to find his wife going through the contents of several with little care to where things were landing. Luckily, Casita caught the tossed items into a basket and Félix got out of bed. His robe flew by, and he snatched it from the air and pulled it on. Pepa’s cloud was steadily getting darker, and she was just about to start on the closet when he asked, “What are you looking for, mi vida?”

There was a low peal of thunder. “My favorite hair tie,” Pepa said and opened the closet.

Félix gently took her elbow and turned her toward the mirror. Pepa paused long enough to look at her reflection, the cloud dissipating as she touched the tie in her hair. There was a knock on the door, so Félix opened it to find Bruno standing there with two cups of coffee. He handed one to Félix and offered the other to Pepa, who took it and settled onto the sofa nearby and said, “Thank you, Bruno and Happy Birthday.”

“You’re welcome, and Happy birthday to you hermana,” he said and turned to go, so Félix began to close the door, but Bruno stopped him when he turned around and asked, “Mass is still at noon?”

Pepa choked a little at the question, but nodded.

Bruno nodded, then left, saying, “Well, see you at breakfast.”

Félix closed the door and turned back to his wife, who was sprinkling into her coffee. He sat down next to her and Félix saw she was smiling.

“Did not see that coming,” Pepa said and took another sip of her coffee, making the cloud above her head evaporate.

Isabela, Antonio, and Parce walked along the wooded path just west of Casita. Parce was walking slowly, so Isa could keep up and help Antonio balance the foot long stick with a few sad-looking leaves on it. They stopped in a glade near a small stream and Antonio announced that Parce needed a drink. They sat under the large oak there until Parce finished. Isa took the stick from Antonio as he climbed back up on the jaguar.

“Thanks for helping me find this, Isa,” Antonio said, taking back the stick.

“You’re welcome, primo pequeño,” she said as she stood, “I’m glad I could help you out.”

“What’s the stick’s name again…plumberi…?”

“Plumeria rubra, and it’s actually a flowering tree.”

Antonio looked at the stick dubiously. “How big will it get?”

“If we take care of it properly, it will grow to be quite tall.”

“Why not just use your Gift to make it bigger?”

“Yes, I could do that, but then we would miss the chance to watch it grow and see all the changes it has to go through to make its beautiful flowers.”

“Oh, I never thought of it like that.” Antonio said and brightened. “I saw the flowers you made for Mira’s door last night. They were so pretty, and they smelled good too.”

“Thank you, Toni, you were up late then.”

“I was asleep, but Tío Bruno’s friends woke me up, so I could get Mamá.”

“Is that when you went into your room?”

“Yeah, that was fun too! When I touched the doorknob, it was like the magic was giving me a hug…and it tickled.”

“That sounds wonderful, Antonio.” Isabela said. Dolores had said, she was extremely nervous about opening her door and probably would have stood there until morning if her mother had not come along. When she finally did, she said that it felt like Casita or maybe the magic was trying to understand what she needed. Luisa said something similar. Isa was mildly jealous at that moment; she had just plowed into her room, barely stopping to look at her door.

They were within sight of Casita now, and she heard Parce let out a low growl. Antonio responded with, “Oh, okay, Parce.” And hopped off the jaguar's back. “I will see you after breakfast.” The jaguar huffed and disappeared back into the forest.

As they neared the house, Casita opened the door and both heard the clatter of activity in the kitchen.

“’Bout time you two got back,” a voice said nearby.

Isa turned and waved to her Tío Bruno and said, “Buenos días Tío, feliz cumpleaños.”

He was in the hammock near the door, swaying slightly as he balanced a mug of coffee, as Antonio’s coatimundi hopped off onto the floor and greeted her tiny cousin. Isa smiled when Antonio shoved the stick into her hands and ran over to Bruno.

“Tío Bruno, you’re better!” Antonio said, “I was really worried last night. Papá said you would be okay. I’m glad he was right.”

Bruno cocked an eyebrow and nodded. “I am,” he said as he swung out of the hammock and knelt, so he was eye level with him. “You did your Tío a solid last night. Thank you, Tonito.” Antonio was all smiles now. Bruno stood up and said to Isa, “I have instructions to collect my sisters upon your return. You have returned.” He turned to go and Antonio grabbed his free hand, Bruno shrugged, and the pair headed toward the stairs, Antonio regaling him of his morning adventures.

This was how Isa always remembered him. As a kind and giving man, who loved his family more than anything else. When he disappeared, she worried for months, then it was years. Slowly losing bits of her memories of him as she strove to be perfect. Well, back to the present, she thought, holding the cutting out in front of her. She wasn’t sure how, but she could tell there was still some life in this slightly dried up stick. Isabela was tempted to make it bloom, but decided against it. Instead, she set the stick next to a pot on a nearby table and attempted to create a garland of plumeria. It was turning out to be a little trickier than she expected.