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The morning of June 19th was a quiet, lazy Sunday morning like most other Sundays in the Encanto. Birds were chirping happily in the summer air, the farmers were getting a few extra hours of sleep before everyone headed off to morning mass, and arepas were sizzling away on the griddle downstairs under Camilo’s watchful eye. The wake-up call wouldn’t come for everyone until 7:30 AM, but not everyone was lucky enough to sleep in. Agustín woke up to the sound of a loud gasp from the other side of his bed.
“Juli?” he mumbled without opening his eyes. “What is it? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, amor, I’m just shocked!” Julieta replied. “I can’t believe he killed him!”
“Who killed what?”
“Dumbledore! Snape killed Dumbledore!”
“Dumble-who now?”
“Ay, Agustín, just open your eyes and look!”
Agustín turned on his side toward Julieta and forced his eyes open, a task he didn’t think even Luisa could accomplish. “I’m not wearing my glasses.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t sleep in my glasses.”
Julieta sighed deeply. “I’m reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Snape just killed Dumbledore instead of Malfoy.”
“Am I supposed to know who that is? What time is it?”
“6:30.”
“I’m awake an hour early on my birthday because the wrong book character killed a different book character?”
“Oh, cariño, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.” Julieta ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
The idea of going back to sleep sounded really good. Agustín blinked heavily and smiled before closing his eyes again. It only lasted a second, though. Before he could slip back to sleep, he heard sniffling from Julieta’s side of the bed. He opened his eyes again. “Wanna tell me about it?” he asked.
“Yes,” Julieta sobbed. “His funeral was so sad! There were so many people there! And the flames, and the phoenix, and the…”
As Julieta painstakingly recounted every detail of Dumbledore’s death and funeral, Agustín smiled. Sleep was nice, but hearing her excited voice was better than any dream he could have had.
Two hours later, Agustín made his way down to breakfast with Julieta on his arm. As he took his seat, he was hugged from behind by at least two different people.
“Happy birthday, pá!” came Isabela and Luisa’s happy voices from behind him.
“Gracias, mijas!” Agustín gasped as Luisa unknowingly squeezed him too tight. The warm feeling that came over him when he was suffering minor injuries was in overdrive, making him sweat.
“Girls, let go, your father’s overheating,” Julieta said as she sat down next to him. Jacobo walked up next and clapped on the back with his left hand, Nicolas securely in his right. Mirabel walked slowly to the table, Daniel helping her sit down next to her father. She was more than nine months pregnant. Dolores sat down across from her, listening to the baby’s heartbeat.
“Your baby’s stronger than ever, Mira,” Dolores said. “It isn’t breech, so everything’s good as far as I can tell.”
“Good, maybe it’ll get out then,” Mirabel grumbled. “I’ve never wanted July 1st to come faster in my whole life.”
“Hey, that’s my nieto or nieta you’re talking about,” Julieta said. “Be nice.”
“I’ll be nice when I can go ten minutes without it pressing on my bladder.” Mirabel grabbed Agustín’s hand and kissed it. “Happy birthday, pá.”
“Gracias, mija,” Agustín replied. “Want me to make you a plate?”
“I’ll get it, Agustín,” Daniel interjected as he stood and walked over to the table with food. “I think some people have things for you, anyway.”
“What? You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“You only turn 60 once,” Pepa said from farther down the table as Casita brought boxes over to Agustín’s side. They were all different colors, but they were the same size.
“Not if you’re me,” Camilo said with a smirk as he carried a plate of food for Carolina, who was only six months pregnant, but her stomach was already as big as Mirabel’s. “I’m gonna shift so much when I’m your age, no one will ever know what I look like.”
“I better know what you look like,” Carolina replied.
“Of course you will, mi estrella. And our babies will. No one else though.”
“Nice,” Mirabel shot at him from her chair that was at the other end of the table so she didn’t have to walk too far from the house to her seat. “You don’t like me anymore, I guess.”
“What’s that? I can’t here you from way down there!”
“Shut up!”
“I’d say make me, but I don’t think you could walk that far!”
“I’m gonna-” Mirabel’s sentence was cut off by a pineapple empanada that appeared not in her hand, but in her mouth. Her powers had been going a little haywire during her pregnancy. She swallowed the bite of food that did nothing to make her feel more full and just sighed. “Pá, can you please open my present first? I think I’m about to explode.”
Agustín grabbed the small teal box with Mirabel’s embroidery on it and opened it. It was a beautiful navy blue tie that Mirabel embroidered with a little teal A where the knot would end up. He looked over at Mirabel. “It’s beautiful, Miraboo. I’ll wear it today. Thank you.”
“De nada, papí. Um, Casita, can you help me out-whoa!” The house sped her away from the table still in her chair.
“I think I’ll wait until she gets back before opening the rest.”
“No announcements today,” Camilo said from the head of the table. “It’s Sunday, so today should be a slow day. Mass is at Happy birthday, tío.”
“Gracias, Camilo. 60 feels just like 59.”
The family’s brief chuckles were cut off by a loud scream from inside the house.
“Daniel!” Mirabel shouted.
All of the women of the family knew that shout, even Carolina. Julieta, Pepa, Dolores, Isabela, and Luisa all jumped to their feet and ran inside. Carolina tried to help, but she couldn’t really move. Camilo shifted into Dolores and listened deeper into the house.
“Her water broke!” Camilo announced excitedly, prompting Daniel to run inside as well.
Agustín smiled widely. “I’m about to be an abuelo again, aren’t I?”
“Apparently, Mirabel thought her first present wasn’t enough!” Jacobo said with a laugh. “You’re all about to be tíos.”
“Um, so are you, Jacobo,” Mariano said. “It’s your sobrino or sobrina, too.”
Jacobo broke out into a huge smile. “I’ve never been a tío before!”
“Hey, what about me?” Pedro and Marco said at the same time, the boys sitting on either side of Mariano. Jacobo’s stunned face made everyone break out into giggles.
“Did you not know you were a tío, J?” Mariano asked. “Even I knew that!”
“I-I-” Jacobo sputtered, earning more laughs.
“Come on, everyone, we gotta get ready for mass,” Camilo said as he received a grateful look from Jacobo for bailing him out. “We’ll tell Padre Garcia that Mirabel’s in labor and that the women of the family and Daniel will not be there today.”
Eight long hours later, Agustín, Julieta, and Daniel’s mother were standing in the nursery along with the rest of the family as Mirabel and Daniel introduced their baby to the family. Agustín was a blubbering mess the second he saw the little pink blanket his granddaughter, Alma’s first great-granddaughter, was bundled in. Mirabel was exhausted, but she couldn’t help but smile at her father.
“You’re wearing my tie,” she said.
“I- oh, sorry,” Agustín replied as he wiped his eyes and nose with his deep purple handkerchief, a present from Luisa, and tucked it into the pocket below the flower on his vest that was no longer pink but blue thanks to Isabela’s present. “I had to look my best to meet my nieta.”
“Would you like to hold her?”
Agustín started crying again and nodded. Casita pulled a chair over to Agustín and made him sit, knowing there was a slight chance that he could drop the baby. It is Agustín, after all. When Daniel placed the girl in his waiting arms, Agustín’s entire world changed, just like it had when he first held his three daughters. “Hola, mi nieta. Me llamo Agustín, y soy tu abuelo. Te quiero mucho.”
“Everyone, meet Alma,” Mirabel said. “Alma Isabela Madrigal.”
“Alma,” Agustín whispered as he studied his granddaughter’s face. “Mi preciosa Almita. The best birthday gift I could ever ask for.”