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  “Oh...ok...yeah, no big deal.”

  I could have left the conversation there, but I needed to know if he was gay. I don’t know why that made a difference to me, lots of guys experimented with other guys, but David was different. Or maybe my feelings towards him were different because of who he was. Gathering the necessary courage I looked out of the window towards the people walking past and asked, “Are you gay?”

  I must have been too quiet because David asked me to repeat the question. Looking back at him but closing my eyes as I spoke, I asked once more, “David, are you gay?”

  David sighed and let out a big breath. Hell, what did that mean?

  “I am.” He said looking out towards the ocean.

  “But you’re not out,” I said, a statement more than a question.

  “No. No, I’m not,” David said with finality, and because I was a sucker for punishment I had to push through for more.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Some of us can’t afford to be out as gay, play house and live our happy lives as if it’s all ok,” David said with some anger and a hint of sadness. I wasn’t sure if I should press for more, but I wanted to let him know it was ok to feel whatever he was feeling. I wanted him to know he could open up to me if and whenever he was ready.

  I turned my body to him and held his face, one hand on each cheek. I hoped to convey my feelings without having to use words because I wasn’t sure I knew what to say. He was crying when he looked up at me. His dark brown eyes were shiny with tears, and he looked exhausted. No, he looked defeated, and I didn’t know what to do.

  “David.”

  He leaned closer, so close I could feel his breath on my skin, and his mouth inches from mine. Without closing his eyes or breaking eye contact, he kissed me. Even though I was the one holding him he planted a soft kiss, and then another one, and then he kissed the corner of my mouth, his eyes still on mine. As my lips parted, I let out a moan, and I felt his tongue across my upper lip. I closed my eyes letting go and leaning into David, deepening the kiss, tasting the salt of his tears. His hands gripped my shirt to keep me close. Fuck, I needed to stop this or I’d be coming in my pants in the very near future.

  I pulled out of the kiss breathless, our foreheads touching and my eyes still closed, “Do you want to tell me?”

  David leaned back into his seat, let out a tired breath, and started talking. I held his hand and rubbed circles on his wrist in soothing encouragement.

  “My friend Isaac came out to his parents when he was seventeen. I remember him telling me he was going to do it. He got along with his parents so well he was sure they would be ok with it. They weren’t. In fact, they kicked him out of the house that same night. He came to stay with me. He was so upset. His world had shattered because the parents he was sure loved him unconditionally had just basically decided he wasn't their son anymore just because he liked men.” David stopped for a moment as though he was considering what to say next, so I nodded for him to continue.

  “He was telling me what had happened when my uncle came to the apartment. He used to have the keys to check up on me when I was younger, but I was eighteen then. He found us sitting together on the sofa. I was comforting Isaac, but my uncle thought it was something else and lost it.”

  “David, o que é isto?” Uncle Mário shouted, looking so angry as he asked what was happening, his face beet red with anger.

  Isaac jumped back and landed on the other end of the sofa. “Tio Mário, it’s not--” I tried to explain but was interrupted.”

  “Shut up maricas! Is this what you do to your family, you little faggot? We look after you, and you behave in this way? What will your aunt think?” I’d never seen my uncle display such an extreme reaction, and it scared me. I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t hurt me such was the extent of his rage.

  “And you,” he’d said turning to Isaac, “You leave this house and do not come back, or I will make you regret it.” He grabbed hold of Isaac by the shirt and dragged him out the door.

  I was in shock, unable to react. I was afraid my uncle would become violent, and the last thing I wanted was to provoke him into action.”

  I couldn’t believe what David was telling me. I didn’t remember much of Mário other than he was always at the café and seemed like a nice man. He used to sneak us treats when we were kids. I didn’t recognize this version of the same man, but then I remembered the feeling in my gut when I met him that first night at the café during the family dinner.

  “I was only eighteen, and while I was self-sufficient at home, I didn’t have any life experience. I’d never even had a boyfriend.” David explained. “My uncle said it would break my aunt’s heart if she found out about it. I didn’t want to believe him, but after his reaction that evening I wasn’t sure my aunt wouldn’t be the same. I couldn’t even lie and say it was a misunderstanding because while nothing had happened with Isaac, and we were just friends, the truth was that I was gay. I didn’t confirm it, but I also didn’t want to lie.”

  “You don’t have to justify it. My parents and my family accepted me but I am not immune to homophobia, and I have some friends whose parents weren’t as accepting.” I couldn’t know how it felt to be in his shoes, but I wanted him to share this burden he’d been carrying for so long. “What happened to Isaac?”

  “I spent the whole week looking for him. He’d left his parent’s with very little, and my uncle didn’t let him grab his stuff before throwing him out of my apartment. I tried to chase after him but couldn’t find him. His brother was going crazy, looking everywhere he could think of.” David looked upset as he recounted the events, but I let him do it without interruption.

  “That first night he didn’t know what to do, so he went to the bus station hoping to feel safer with people around. He ended up being punched by a man who wanted Isaac to blow him and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I went to the bus station the next day but as it turns out I missed him by hours. I found him a week later in the field near our school. There was an old bus shelter that wasn’t in use anymore, and that’s where he had been. He’d lived on scraps of food he’d found in supermarket trash containers. He’d tried to look for a job, but without any clean clothes or a chance to clean up, no one looked at him twice. I brought him home with me and made him stay until he got on his feet. I changed the locks in the apartment too.”

  “You are a good man, David. Not many people would have been that brave.”

  “I was a coward, still am. I’m afraid to tell my aunt, even though I think she will be ok with it. The fear that she might not be is stopping me from telling her.”

  “It’s ok, you’ll figure it out,” I said reassuringly. “I don’t think either of us should be alone tonight. What do you say we go back to your place and watch trash TV? Maybe even read more of the journal, if you want?”

  “My place, huh?” he asked.

  Maybe it was wrong of me to invite myself to his apartment, but his place felt more homely than mine. Tonight, we both needed to feel at home.

  “Yep, you have ingredients. Ingredients equals cake.” I grinned.

  David chuckled in disbelief but gave me a quick hug and got the car started.

  Chapter Thirteen

  David

  Leaving my bed this morning was hands down the hardest thing I’ve done in my life. Ask me to bake 200 custard tarts and then a four-tier cake? Easy. Getting out of bed when Joel was in it? Hard. Although not as hard as I was, right the fuck now, thinking of Joel lying there in boxer shorts and a t-shirt that was crumpled up, showing the outline of his perfect ass.

  Maybe it was good that I had to go to work today because had I not, I’m not sure I would have stopped myself from touching Joel like I wanted to.

  Now that Joel knew I was gay and now that we’d kissed it was like my mind had found permission to think of all the possible scenarios in which I wanted Joel. On me, under me, in me, around me, fuuuck!

  Yesterday when we came back from the beach
we went to my place, planning on watching a load of crap TV, eating cake and working on the plans for our road trip. Joel had gone to his apartment to grab some sweatpants and a t-shirt while I’d been in charge of rustling up a cake.

  By the time Joel had come back the cake was nearly ready to go in the oven, so he grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat at the kitchen table watching me work.

  “Wow, you work fast. What are you making?” he asked.

  “Thanks,” I smiled, “I’m used to doing it, I guess. I’m making a chocolate and vanilla marble cake.”

  “Can’t wait. When is it going to be ready?” Joel asked impatiently.

  “We had bifanas not that long ago, how are you still hungry?”

  “Who said I was hungry? It’s cake. There’s always room for cake. Besides, I need to test the quality of your baking. I hear it’s the best.” I felt my skin warm at the compliment.

  In the safety and comfort of the walls of my apartment, I was comfortable talking and even flirting with Joel. It felt good, natural, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t just because I was attracted to him. We were first, and foremost, friends and the ease in which our relationship had worked when we were kids hadn’t disappeared in adulthood.

  For the rest of the day, we talked, drank beer and finally caught up with the missing years. We also ate cake, and I found out that Joel was right, for him, there was always space for cake, and the proof was in the plate of crumbs that was still sitting in the sink when I left this morning.

  True to Joel’s suggestion we weren’t alone last night. He slept in my bed, right next to me, and I fell asleep fast and deep like I hadn’t in a long time. We hadn’t kissed again, but we held each other close.

  I usually slept on my side, facing the door, but this morning when I woke up and opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the ceiling, and then felt a weight on me, warming me like a blanket.

  I’d looked down and saw Joel wrapped all around me, his head on my chest, his arm had come around my torso, trapped under me, and his legs snaked around mine. I felt his morning erection against my thigh, while mine was trapped against his leg, and I’d wanted for nothing else but to pull him even closer, wake him up with kisses, and take care of our growing problem.

  Needing to get up to go to work was the only thing that was stopping me from giving in.

  I’d carefully disentangled myself from Joel, leaving him mumbling in his sleep something about cake, and took care of myself with a quick shower. I left a note asking Joel to join me in the café later and left.

  It was almost ten in the morning when Joel came through the café doors, looking rested and with the biggest smile on his face. It suited him, being happy. His eyes were always little bluer when he smiled.

  “Hey, bom dia sleepy head.” He looked around as if checking there was no one around. My heart warmed at the thought he was mindful of my secret. “It’s just me here, we had a quiet spell, so my aunt went out to run some errands. My uncle is closing, so he’ll be in at lunchtime. Have you had breakfast?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I went home for a shower and had something to eat too. Although, I wouldn’t say no to a fresh custard tart, and I’m not even ashamed to ask for one.” He winked.

  God, this man was going to be the death of me.

  “Anyway, you left me a message asking to come here.”

  “Yes, thanks for coming. Are you busy today? I was hoping to recruit your help.” I asked hoping he’d say yes.

  “My help? Yes, of course. What can I do?” Joel sounded excited, and that made me feel much better about asking for his help. Truth be told, I was also looking forward to spending the day with him.

  I didn’t have any outstanding cake orders, and no events, so my work for the day consisted of making 500 custard tarts to freeze. I always preferred to bake them fresh each day, but there wasn’t much difference in the resulting product. This way I could be away from the café without an impact on our primary product offer. With Joel’s help, I was hoping to be able to finish it all in time for us to go away tomorrow.

  As soon as my aunt came back from her errands, I took Joel into the kitchen and explained what I needed help with. He wouldn’t be required to do anything very complex, but measuring ingredients and cleaning stuff as we went along was vital to the speed of the process.

  We moved around with ease as we did our respective tasks, occasionally touching a hand or an arm while reaching out for something, and smiling at each other. I felt relaxed and happy despite the heavy workload.

  My aunt came into the kitchen to grab something just as a new song played on the radio, so in one stealthy move I caught her and made her dance with me.

  “David! Põe-me no chão.” She said with a shriek, asking me to put her feet back on the floor. “What’s come down with you?” She put her hand on my forehead as soon as I stopped twirling her around. Joel was leaning against the worktop, laughing at us.

  “Nothing tia, just happy to go on holiday tomorrow. It’s been a while since I’ve been away and I’m in a good mood, I guess.” I said giving her a big kiss on her cheek.

  “I’d give you a holiday every day to see you this happy.” She put her hands on my chest and looked up at me as though seeing me for the first time in a long time. “You boys have fun on your holiday, and don’t you worry about the café, ok? I’ve got it covered here.” She gave me one last hug before returning to the front of the café.

  We went back to work in silence for a while, only the noise of the radio in the background. The result of our work was all over the kitchen. There were bags of flour, sugar, cartons of eggs and a variety of other ingredients on one end of the kitchen. On the other end, the trays with custard tarts ready to go in the freezer were piling up high.

  Around two o’clock we took a break. My arms needed as much rest as the pastry dough I put in the fridge. While I was there, I also took out what I needed to make us some sandwiches and asked Joel to get us a couple of sodas from the chillers out front.

  We were eating our lunch and discussing the route we would take tomorrow when my uncle walked in the kitchen. He looked at us, and I felt my back go rigid at the look on his face.

  “Boa tarde,” He said greeting us, but I could feel the strain in his voice. He was trying not to show his disapproval at Joel’s presence in the kitchen. “What’s going on?” He asked.

  Joel stood up to greet my uncle by offering his hand to shake. “Olá Mário. I came to help David while he’s making the custard tarts. I’m not a baker, but I have mastered the scales and the cleaning.” I could see Joel was trying to deflect the situation by injecting some humor, but I knew it wouldn’t wash with my uncle. He just nodded, and without shaking Joel's hand back, he went out front to start his shift.

  “I’m sorry,” Suddenly I lost my appetite, so I got up to carry on with the work. The earlier I finished it, the earlier I could go home and away from my uncle.

  “Hey,” Joel said getting up to follow me, “I get it, it’s fine. Look, he’s a jerk, but he can’t deny we’re here doing hard work, so let's ignore him.” He grabbed the scales to start measuring the ingredients for my next batch of custard.

  “Just think, this time tomorrow we’ll be exploring Évora.” Joel was right. Living on the coast was great, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. Let’s face it, I got to run on the beach anytime I wanted. However, I had only been to the town of Évora once on a school trip, and there was one place I still remembered well, the Chapel of Bones. As creepy as it was, I wanted to take Joel there.

  Being further inland, Évora, the capital of the south-central Alentejo, also had a different climate, the temperatures were always much higher than the rest of the country. I could imagine Joel and me chilling out in a taverna, cold beer in hand and not a custard tart in sight. That thought was like a fire lighting up inside me, and I got a renewed rush of energy.

  By around five in the afternoon, I was setting the last few trays of custard tarts in the freezer, and Joe
l was tidying up. I could almost taste freedom when my aunt came into the kitchen looking worried.

  “What’s up tia?” I asked concerned.

  “We have a customer that is asking for a big favor. I said we couldn’t do it, but he is desperate. I told him I couldn’t make any promises but that I would ask you.”

  “They want a cake for today,” I said, already predicting that would be the urgent request.

  “It’s his niece’s birthday party tomorrow. He was meant to get a cake, but he forgot. He looks so apologetic, I’m almost tempted to bake the cake myself--“

  “No!” I interrupted, and my aunt laughed. “I have a 500 custard tarts in the freezer. I’m not risking a fire in this kitchen. Tell him we’ll do it but it’s one tier only, and the decoration is up to me. He only gets to choose the flavor and theme color. He can pick it up tomorrow morning.”

  And with that, I started getting preparing the baking tins, but not before I looked at Joel who witnessed the exchange, and was staring at me like I’d grown an extra head.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Wow, you look hot when you’re bossy,” He said, and immediately his cheeks went red as though he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

  “Oh yeah?” I walked over to him and got as close as I could get without touching him. I looked up at him my lips so close to his I could feel his erratic breath. “Boss says you’re staying. I want this baking tin greased and floured. You’re not leaving this kitchen until we’re done.” Then I turned towards the pantry to get the ingredients. I only heard Joel whisper “sim, Senhor,” yes, sir indeed.

  It was closer to midnight when I finished the cake. Joel and I looked like the walking dead. I couldn’t even be bothered to do a deep clean of the kitchen like most days. It wasn’t dirty; it would have to do. Even my uncle, displeased as he was about Joel being in the kitchen with me, thanked me for all the work and told me not to worry about the cleaning, he’d do it in the morning. So I took the olive branch and left the café with Joel, my legs aching as we walked home through the quiet streets.