It’s time to start writing our story together.
Honeymoon—Angra dos Reis—Brazil
“This place is perfect. I could live here,” he says.
Guillermo is lucky. He has a beautiful tan, while I look like a tomato from being so sunburned. Despite that, I love the tan lines the bikini top gave me.
“It really is. People are so cheerful and laidback. I think I’m acarioca. What a funny term. Where do you think it comes from?”
We’re sitting on the yacht Guillermo rented. We swam for a while this morning. There are several other boats around us, all enjoying the Brazilian summer.
“From what I read before the trip, the term comes from two indigenous words:karaiwa, meaning white man, andoka, meaning house. Together, they obviously mean white man’s house. The natives started using the expression shortly after the founding of the city of Rio de Janeiro, to refer to it—but as a kind of nickname for Rio’s residents, the term only started being used from the eighteenth century.”
“Wow, someone’s studied local history.”
“I’m naturally curious. I never get tired of learning.”
“Thank you for agreeing to spend our honeymoon in Brazil. You’re fulfilling a dream, even though I haven’t been able to fully fulfill mine.”
Guillermo has tirelessly searched for my mother’s family. They had moved, not just houses but cities. When the detective finally located them, he found out that Mama Heloísa’s parents had already passed away.
There were some uncles, aunts, cousins, and nephews and nieces left in Minas Gerais, but that was it.
Still, I wanted to visit them, but I needed a translator. They don’t speak English, and my Portuguese is very limited. I can form basic sentences, but I can’t tell stories about Mama Heloísa the way I’d like to.
At first, I felt a bit awkward. They seemed hesitant, and I feared I was forcing a situation, but the translator explained to me that they were simple people and were shy. However, as the afternoon went on, they gradually loosened up.
My mother’s cousin, Nice, prepared a snack for us. When I said we didn’t want to be a bother and that just coffee would do, she replied,“I’m not serving coffee with tongue, Olívia.”
The translator explained that it’s a common expression among the people from Minas Gerais, meaning they would never serve just coffee but will always offer a variety of foods to accompany it as well. So we triedfubácake, corn bread, and several other delights, but what won Guillermo over was the cheese bread. He fell in love with it and made me ask for the recipe.
In the end, I said goodbye with a hug and received a jar ofdoce de leiteas a gift—which started competing withbrigadeiroas my favorite treat—plus a bottle of agedcachaça. It’s a distilled drink made from sugarcane and is one hundredpercent Brazilian. Guillermo said he already knew it because there’s a drink served at his hotels calledcaipirinha, which is prepared with this beverage.
“Don’t you know I would do anything to see you happy?” He brings me back to the present, responding to my gratitude. “Besides, it’s not like having you all to myself, dressed all day in a tiny bikini, is any sacrifice.”
I smile, and he pulls me onto his lap.
“I’m looking forward to reaching the city of Rio de Janeiro,” I say. “I can’t wait to ride the cable car to Sugarloaf Mountain and visit the Christ the Redeemer statue.”
“I love you, little firecracker. You have no idea how good your zest for life makes me feel.”
God, that beautiful smile of his kills me!
“Do you have any idea how sexy you look with all that golden skin exposed, declaring your love for me? I think I’ve had enough sun. Can we go downstairs and rest for a bit?” I ask coyly.
My husband looks at me with a fire I know all too well.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, already feeling my pulse quicken.
“I suddenly feel like havingdoce de leitefor dessert,” he whispers in my ear. “On you.”
My face heats up, and I look to see if the captain and assistants are paying attention to us. “You shouldn’t say these things to me in public.”
“Why not?”
“Because I might not be able to wait until we get to the cabin.”
Chapter 53
