Crash

Abuela

"I understand that you're angry, mija. I didn't come here to fight. Please. Just give me a minute to talk to you, hm? This is all I ask."

Penelope looked to Charles, their eyes locking in understanding. Something unspoken passed between them, Charles reaching out to squeeze her fingers before turning away. The message was clear - he'd give them space, but all she needed to do was call and he'd be there. She wasn't in this alone. 

Once Charles was gone, a dangerous silence settled between them. Both of them had their backs up, like animals primed to attack if one made the wrong first move. 

The first thing Penelope really noticed as she surveyed Mirabel was how much older she looked. Her hair was a more stark shade of grey, and she had darker circles under her eyes, like she hadn't been sleeping properly for a long time. The usual twinkle of kindness and warmth in her eyes was gone, like someone had snubbed it out. Penelope couldn't help but wonder if she was to blame. 

"What are you doing here?" Penelope said finally, her tone cold. In her hospital gown and sickly appearance, she felt all too vulnerable, like a wounded animal someone would take pity on. She didn't like that very much at all. 

"You're my granddaughter," Mirabel said simply. "You needed me, so-"

"I don't need you," Penelope spat, the beeping of her heart rate monitor going into overdrive as she seethed with anger. "I needed you weeks ago, at Nationals. That's when I needed you, and you weren't there, abuela, so don't stand there saying that when we both know it's not true."

As usual, Mirabel was as calm as ever. "You're upset. I understand."

"You understand? You understand? Get out. I don't want you here. Get out!"

"Penelope, please," Mirabel pleaded, reaching to touch her before Penelope lurched away. Her tone was so desperate, so laced with sadness that it was impossible to fight. Penelope cursed herself for not being strong enough to say no. She wished she wasn't such a push over. "Please."

"I'm doing this for abuelo," Penelope said quietly, gripping the railings of the hospital bed so tightly that her knuckles were white. "Not for you."

Mirabel nodded, happy to take any chance she could get. "I understand, mija. He would be here, you know. He would have pushed those doctors out of the way to get to you. I can practically hear him shouting now."

Penelope didn't say anything. She kept her eyes trained on the floor, wishing Charles would come back so she didn't have to do this anymore. 

"I know you don't understand my decisions, Penelope. Maybe it doesn't make sense to you, but to me...I regret what I did. When I got the call last night, I couldn't help but think of when you were una niña pequeña. You were so small, but you used to wake up in the middle of the night, crying and screaming...The only person who could soothe you was your abuelo. Some nights, I'd wake up and find him sat in the rocking chair by your bed, holding your hand, fast asleep. He'd tell you the same story, every night, about the princess who didn't want to rule the kingdom, she just wanted-"

"-to dance," Penelope finished. "I remember, abuela. He told me that story every night when I was a kid."

"Yes. Remember what he used to call you?"

Penelope tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "Patita. Little duckling. He never used to talk to me in Spanish the way you did, but he always called me that."

Mirabel gave her a sad smile, like it was equally hard for her to talk about. "When you were little, so little, you were in a show for the dance. Swan Lake, and all the big girls were these beautiful swans in white skirts with feathers, but you? Well, you were so tiny that costume didn't fit, so they put you in this little bird dress. You were so clumsy, tottering out there with the big girls who were holding your hands, letting you jump about on stage. From the moment you stepped out, you had this big smile on your face, like it was the happiest moment of your life. Straight away, Matteo, he started laughing. I asked him, and he pointed at the girls and said those were the swans, and you were the little duckling, wobbling about. He was so proud, even back. If he could see you now, the swan that you've become...well, I wish he was here to see it. I really, really do."