The Swap

Secret Recipe

It had been a long time since Julieta had been so comfortable and relaxed. Agustín was playing a soft song on the piano, there was a fire in the fireplace, and two cups of hot tea made her feel warm on the inside. The biggest contributing factor to her relaxation was her teenage son - son? - son cuddled up against her and buried under a blanket. Camilo had been asleep for half an hour when Julieta also drifted away, Camilo's warmth and Agustín's piano playing working way better than any sleeping pill ever could. It was easily one of the top five naps she had ever taken, a list that wasn't hard to make because she hadn't taken very many as an adult. It ended far too early, in her opinion, when Mirabel came to take the teacups away, tripped, and fell, shattering both cups and waking her mother.

"Sorry," Mirabel whispered. "I tripped."

"Are you okay?" Julieta mumbled.

"Just a little scrape, I'm fine. I think some of papí's clumsiness stayed with me after we had that craziness a couple months ago."

"Honey, I hate to break it to you, but you've always been clumsy. You just got good at catching yourself."

Mirabel just rolled her eyes and shook her head as she put the broken glass in a trash can before walking over and sitting in a chair next to the couch. "How's mi mellizo?"

Julieta lifted the blanket to reveal Camilo. "Sleeping like a log."

"Good. He needed it. How are you doing?"

"Much better, I think. Not nearly as upset as before."

"That's good. I know you were struggling earlier."

"Pepa said we needed to go where the wind takes us, and it took me to the son I've always wanted. It still doesn't feel right to think of Isabela as mi sobrina, but I know Camilo's mine."

Mirabel smiled. "It's good to see you happy again, mamá."

"How could I not be happy? I have my little boy here with me."

"'M not little," Camilo mumbled.

"You're my youngest niño, you're always going to be my little boy." Julieta brushed the hair out of Camilo's eyes. "And you need to wake up before you sleep the whole morning away."

"'M still tired."

"What if I told you I had a special thing planned for lunch?"

"But I wanna sleep, mamí," Camilo whined. He still hadn't opened his eyes. "Por favor, podemos quedarnos aquí y dormir más?"

Julieta smiled softly. Camilo always switched between Spanish and English, but when he was this tired, it was only Spanish. "Do you want to go up to your room, cariño? Maybe you'll sleep better there."

"Quiero quedarme contigo."

Mirabel couldn't help but smile. "I can go get the ingredients for you if you want, mamá. I don't think you're moving anytime soon."

"No, I bet I can get him to move," Julieta said.

"No quiero mover," Camilo mumbled.

"Not even if it means you get to learn a secret recipe that no one else knows?"

Camilo opened one of his eyes and looked up at Julieta, curious. "Which one?"

"My world-famous sopa de arepa."

"I don't remember eating that one before."

"Yeah, me either," Mirabel added.

"That's because I haven't made it since just after I married your father. Mira, there's a recipe box in the cabinet where I keep the flour, can you bring it to me?" Mirabel nodded and walked away.