His wife, Teresa, was entirely different. She was a petite but strong woman who’d been a second mom to David, and since we’d met, she’d been nothing short of kind.
It was incrediblygenerous of Teresa to take in a troubled young man as a trainee in the café she’d managed since her sister died thirteen years ago.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said. “I could do with checking in on Bruno to see how he’s doing. Call me later if you want to talk, yeah?”
I grabbed my stuff to leave. “Tiago, call me,” I said with my hand on his shoulder. Meeting someone who claimed to have some kind of lead on his brother’s location was always hard on him, especially as none had ever led to his brother.
* * *
I’d been coming to see Bruno at the café ever since he’d started his apprenticeship with David this summer, but so far, I had never bumped into Mário. I wasn’t sure if it was by design or coincidence, but I was glad. It still didn’t stop my heart beating a tad bit faster every time I approached Café Lima.
Bruno was behind the counter serving someone when I walked through the door. The smell of coffee and freshly baked pastries made my mouth water.
“Hi, Isaac,” Bruno said as I approached the counter. “Would you like a coffee? Or a pastry?”
“Did you make these?” I asked, pointing at the display of mouth-watering custard tarts.
“Yes, this is a new batch I made this afternoon because we ran out in the morning.”
Bruno was one of my success stories. He’d grown up with his grandparents, and like many kids that came to us, he had been kicked out for being gay.
He attended all David’s cake-making classes and wouldn’t stop asking for more. When David had been looking for extra help for the café, Bruno had been an obvious candidate.
“I will definitely try one of your custard tarts, and I’ll have a coffee, too,” I said. “How are you doing?”
“I’m great. I was super nervous before David went to America. I thought people would stop coming here and wouldn’t buy the custard tarts because David didn’t make them.”
“If you had to make a new batchthis afternoon, they must be popular with the customers.”
“I guess,” he said shyly.
“Is Teresa around?”
Just as I asked, Teresa came out from the kitchen with a little boy behind her.
I greeted her with a hug and a kiss on her cheek. She smelled like flowers.
“Boa tarde, my dear. Have you come to check in on Bruno?”
“Looks like I don’t need to. Does David know his custard tarts are no longer the most popular?”
She looked at Bruno with adoration. She knew how hard he’d had it and was clearlyproud of him.
“And who’s this young man?” I asked.
The little boy couldn’t have been older than five and hid behind Teresa before running behind the counter and holding on to Bruno’s legs.
“Isaac, this is Filipe. He’s my brother,” Bruno said, his voice faltering like he was afraid to give me the news.
When I’d met Bruno, he’d reassured me he was no longer living with his grandparents, but that he was safe. He’d never mentioned a brother, let alone a very young one.
I inwardly cursed the customer that chose that moment to enter the café.
Fortunately, Teresa must have known I needed time with Bruno because she went around the counter to serve the customer and told Bruno she’d see him tomorrow, bright and early.
Bruno nodded in agreement and took Filipe by the hand toward the kitchen. They both returned shortly after. Bruno was no longer wearing his work apron, and Filipe had a small school bag on his back and was holding a Superman doll that looked like it’d seen better days.
“I’m renting out Joel’s apartment,” he said as we approached the building.
