“Fuuuuck.”
“Can’t blame you at all.”
We took a little longer in the shower while I made sure David was thoroughly awake before we made our way to my grandparents’ house.
“Bom dia, Avó,” I said to my grandmother, stepping in for a big hug. God, I loved her hugs, her smell, her hands on my face like she knew exactly how to make me feel at home with such a simple touch.
“My boys,” she said, holding David in a similar embrace. I loved when she called us her boys. I looked at David, who was accepting the hug like a starved man.
When I was a kid, my mom used to joke, saying, “Your grandmother knows things, Joel.” As though she could read minds or knew what you’d been up to. I never knew what those “things” were then, but now it was like a billboard announcement. She knew about David, and she knew about us. She just chose not to say it out loud. The look she gave me as she stepped out of David’s embrace was one of happiness tinged with a heavy dose of concern.
During breakfast, we told my family about the trip, the things we’d seen, and some of the stories we read about in the journal.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve been to Santarém, hasn’t it, Vi?” my granddad asked my grandmother, using his nickname for her.
“I think we went there for a wedding a few years ago. It was an awful day of rain.”
“I remember that day,” Vóvó Deolinda said from her armchair where she was working on a crochet piece, as usual. “You know, as the old saying goes, a wet wedding makes a blessed marriage.”
“Must be true, Mom,” my grandma said, “because they’re still together, and that gorgeous baby of theirs is just so adorable.”
I looked at my three grandparents chatting with each other like they did every single day, and a pang of longing came over me. I had missed so much of this and would most certainly continue to miss it in the future, and I didn’t know how I felt about that.
After breakfast, we did some shopping for the baking class and headed over to Lisbon to Isaac’s LGBT center.
The LGBT center was in a commercial area in downtown Lisbon.
It was sandwiched between two buildings, and if it weren’t for the rainbow display in the window, I could have walked past it without knowing it was there. Even the small sign above the door was nondescript.
This center was unlike other LGBT centers I’d been to in New York. It looked like the front part was a functional store selling LGBT merchandise, and at the back, there was an office space with two desks and a seating area.
The guy behind one of the desks got up to greet David as soon as we walked in carrying our shopping bags. He looked a little older than us but probably not by much. The thick-rimmed glasses on his face did nothing to hide the dark brown, nearly back color of his eyes. He had short black hair and gorgeous olive skin. The guy was undoubtedly stunning, but what really stood out to me was his friendly and open demeanor.
“Olá, David. How are you? It’s been a while man,” he said with a quick hug and a fist bump.
“Olá, Tiago. I know, I know. Life’s crazy,” David said and then turned to introduce me. “Tiago, this is Joel. Joel, this is Tiago. He volunteers here and knows everything,” he said, punctuating the word everything.
“Well, if I don’t, no one else will.” He shrugged and winked. “The boss is at the back. Go on in.” Tiago motioned to the door behind the desk leading to a long corridor.
“He’s really friendly,” I commented.
“Yeah, he’s an awesome guy. The center would be lost without him, and I get the feeling it goes both ways.”
I didn’t know what David meant and didn’t have a chance to ask because as we turned a corner at the end of the corridor, I bumped into a mass of messy, curly hair. I would have fallen backward if David hadn’t dropped one of his bags and put an arm around me.
“Oh fuck, I’m so sor—” he said, looking up. “David!” Ignoring the fact he nearly knocked me on my ass, the guy put his arms around David in a sign of familiarity I wasn’t sure I was comfortable with.
David hugged the guy back and laughed. This wasn’t a just-friends hug; this was the sign of something stronger. Holy hell, this was Isaac.
David pulled back from the embrace, still smiling, and ruffled the already messy curls on the guy’s head.
“Joel, this is—”
“Isaac,” I interrupted. “Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand to shake, but Isaac had other plans and hugged me, too, although a little tamer than he did David.
“That’s enough, Isaac,” David said, separating us and putting an arm around me. Both Isaac and I laughed.
“Joel, let me give you a tour of the place while David gets settled in the kitchen where he belongs.” He sent a dirty wink toward David and pulled me back to the front of the house where we’d just come from.
