Made In Portugal

by Ana Newfolk

  I looked up at David again and asked if he had read it.

  "I haven't read it. I remember seeing my mom looking at it and sometimes writing on it but never paid any attention. I just figured it was a notepad for recipes." David shrugged "I didn't even find it until last year when I was going through some old stuff. It was in a box wrapped in that scarf. At the time I opened the first page as you did just now and considered reading it, but it was too painful seeing her handwriting like that, so I put it aside. Your mom had just gone back to New York again so I couldn't ask her about it and then I decided I was going to wait until she came back this summer." David looked down as he said it.

  I felt my heart tightening at the thought of my mom never returning to this place. I wasn't the only one who would miss her, and I wondered if wherever she was, she would have found her way to her best friend.

  A few tears escaped my eyes, and I was glad to be wearing sunglasses.

  David dragged his chair closer and leaned towards me wiping my tears using both his thumbs over my cheeks. It was such an intimate and comforting gesture I almost leaned into his touch.

  "Are you ok?" David whispered, still so close to me.

  "Yeah sorry, I...er... I'm still getting used to this. I know that I will always come across stuff that reminds me of her, of them, but it’s still hard.”

  "You don't have to be embarrassed. I know how it feels. I've lived with my mom's stuff in the apartment ever since she died. It wasn't easy, but eventually, I donated anything that wasn't important and chose to keep only the best memories of her. I mean, I don't need to keep the old dish drying rack just because it was hers right?" He said trying to inject a bit of humor into the conversation.

  I smiled at that and nodded in agreement.

  "It must have been hard to find out my mom died without having a chance to show her the journal," I said.

  “I only thought of you," David said looking right at my sunglass-covered eyes. "I knew it was going to be hard for you, losing both your parents at the same time and I wished things had been different, that we were still friends, and that I could comfort you in the same way your mom comforted me when my mom died."

  I looked down at the journal and an idea formed in my head. I must have been quiet for a moment too long because David sounded worried when he asked if I was ok once again.

  "Do you want to read the journal together?" I asked. "I mean, they were ten years old when they started it, so I'm sure we're not going to find anything embarrassing."

  "Yeah, that's a great idea. Do you want to take it home to read it first and then pass it on to me, or do you want to read it together, together?" David said, and I thought I saw a slight blush on his tanned skin.

  "Let's read it at the same time. We can meet up and read out loud in my apartment or yours. I don't think we should do it in public though."

  "I agree. Do you want to finish the drinks and come over to mine then? We could have a look at the first couple of entries."

  "Deal!" I said with excitement.

  I was wrapping the journal in its scarf again when Pedro arrived and spotted us immediately.

  "Jesus Christ if this is not a blast from the past," I looked towards the voice I recognized to see Pedro walking toward us. "Joel, I haven't seen you in years. How are you, my man?" He said as he came over for a one arm hug and a firm pat on the back.

  "I'm good, thanks, Pedro. How are you?"

  Pedro nodded and turned to David, “And you master chef, I don't see you often enough, you might as well be living in America too.”

  "That's quite an exaggeration, Pedro. You see me run past here at least a couple of times a week."

  "Running past here won't help me feed my kids. You need to stop and get a drink."

  "You don't have any kids Pedro," David said deadpan.

  As I observed the exchange between the two men I was both sad at the years missed this easy friendship, and happy that I was here now.

  "I could have kids." Pedro insisted unwilling to lose that particular argument. "Anyway, what's that you got there Joel?” he leaned closer, “I have a feeling I've seen it before."

  "It looks like our moms wrote a travel journal together and David found it recently. We were just talking about it."

  "It is truly a day of memories. I remember Paula and Sílvia taking that notebook everywhere we went on a school trip. They would see something and write it down immediately. I asked to read it once, but they said I wasn't allowed. It upset me for a whole hour before I forgot about it and went out to play football outside." Pedro sighed, "I miss those two girls.”

  Pedro ran his hand through the silky material of the scarf, “they bought this scarf when we went on a school trip to Viana do Castelo because they really liked the pattern and the color. Their birthdays were close together so on the same trip I bought them each a keyring with the Heart of Viana.” Pedro smiled as he recounted the day of the trip.

  “I wonder what happened to the keyrings.” He said wistfully.

  David started fumbling around in his pockets and then put a set of keys on the table.

  “Is this it?” he asked.

  “Oh my god David, you still have it. And I see the key is still on it.” He turned to me, “I guess you still have your mom’s too Joel.”

  I hadn’t paid much attention to the set of keys my grandma had given me but I pulled them out of my pocket and put them on the table too. There was no doubt my keyring matched David’s.

  Pedro let out an excited laugh, “you both have the keys too!”

  “What are the keys for?” we asked at the same time.

  “Do they actually open something?” David asked, “I’ve looked everywhere but I can’t find anything that fits this key.”

  Pedro explained that when they were seventeen, our moms spent a summer working hard to save money to buy a car so they could travel together as soon as one of them got their driving license.

  “They didn’t have all the money they needed by the end of the summer so my uncle, who owned this place before me gave them a job after school in their senior year.”

  Pedro went on to explain that his uncle had died suddenly of a heart attack in that year. Since Pedro was the only relative, he had inherited everything that belonged to his uncle, including an old red Citroen 2CV.

  “I didn’t need it since I already had a car. The girls were the best friends I could have asked for at the time and helped me here until I was on my feet again. Remember, I was only eighteen at the time, a kid really. Anyway, to repay their kindness and support I gave them the car and told them to use the money they saved to travel.”

  Pedro told us our moms named the car “Ladybug” after a sticker that was stuck on the back trunk door next to the handle. They thought it would be funny that everybody driving behind them would be following a ladybug so they left the sticker and named the car after it.

  “I wonder what happened to the car.” David said.

  “It would be really old now so maybe it’s not around anymore. I can ask my grandparents if they remember what happened.”

  “Shall we go then?” I was happy to see David was as curious as I was to read the journal so I nodded my agreement.

  Please don't be strangers and come over when you can, ok?"

  "Thanks, Pedro, we will," I said as we got up to pay the bill and leave towards David's apartment.

  “Not a chance,” Pedro said as we got our wallets out, “it was a pleasure seeing you both, and it’s me that has to thank you for the memories. This one is on the house, okay?”

  We shook hands with the promise to return soon and left.

  Chapter Six

  David

  The walk to my apartment was filled with contemplative silence, and I found myself wanting to reach out for Joel’s hand. Seeing him upset when he saw the journal was like lead in my heart, and I wished I’d been able to pull him into my arms and hold him until he wasn’t sad anymore.

  I wasn’t sure why I had suc
h an intense yearning to comfort Joel. He hadn’t been here for me when my mom died, he hadn’t kept contact all these years, and we were now adults with seemingly nothing in common other than a shared childhood.

  For all intents and purposes we would now just be acquaintances, so why did my skin feel like it was trying to crawl out of my body to wrap itself around Joel like a protective shield?

  I was grateful my apartment wasn’t too far from the beach, the sun was baking hot, and I could feel the beads of sweat running down my back just from the short walk.

  Fortunately, my apartment was refreshingly cool due to the shutters being almost all the way down. Small pockets of light streamed in trying to penetrate the darkness, but it wasn’t enough to allow the summer heat in. I pulled the shutters all the way up and opened the balcony doors in the living room allowing the light and warmth to finally enter my space.

  Suddenly I felt timid and slightly apprehensive. Joel hadn’t been to my apartment since we were kids. He was probably used to those New York loft type apartments, all fancy and full of expensive stuff. Mine was simple, but it had my memories, and it was my sanctuary, the place where I could be myself without judgment, and I loved every square inch.

  “Take a seat. You can pick the sofa or the chair, make yourself at home.” I said pointing to the sofa and the loveseat that I’d placed facing the balcony.

  “This place looks different,” Joel said looking around, “It looks the same but also different, and it’s not just because of the furniture. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah, I guess. It’s mostly the same apart from the new furniture. I guess it has more of my personal touch and the things I like rather than my mom’s stuff.” I agreed, “Anyway, can I get you anything to drink? A beer? Water?” I asked as Joel sat on the big sofa. I felt a small pang of disappointment he hadn’t sat in the love seat.

  “No thanks, shall we get started?”

  “Sure,” I sat next to Joel, pulled the coffee table closer to us and placed the journal on top of it. We both leaned forward as though we were either about to uncover a hidden treasure or trigger an explosive device.

  Joel made the first move by unwrapping the journal and opening it straight on to the second page where the first entry was written in swirly childlike handwriting. Silence descended between us once again as we both read.

  7 February 1979 - School trip to the Planetarium, Lisbon

  Dear Journal,

  We had so much fun today. We went to the Planetarium in Lisbon. On the way there we sat in the back seats of the school bus and spent all the time waving at the people behind us. Some even waved back! We also sang a lot of songs.

  Our friends were doing it too, but José Paulo felt sick and threw up in his lunch bag. It was gross, but fortunately, it didn’t go anywhere else. Our teacher, Mrs. Olivia had to buy him lunch because his was ruined.

  We learned a lot about the stars and the planets today. We decided that our favorite constellation is the Ursa Minor because it looks like a kite in the sky.

  Under the text there was a drawing of the Ursa Minor constellation, which, as they stated, looked like a kite, complete with bows.

  “So Mr. Teacher, what do you think?

  “I’d give them an A for effort and creativity and a C for accuracy. I’m positive the Ursa Minor doesn’t have pretty bows on the tail.” He laughed.

  “It’s a bit strange seeing the world from their perspective as kids, isn’t it? After all, we only knew them as our moms.” I said.

  “Yeah, I guess. I’m used to young children at work. They never cease to amaze me with their innocent wisdom, you present them with a problem, and they give you a solution. They aren’t tainted by the world yet, or at least a lot of them aren’t.”

  I liked hearing Joel talk about his job. He was so passionate and animated as he spoke, I was pretty sure he wasn’t aware how expressive he was, how he used his hands to communicate what his words alone couldn’t.

  “Do you know what these stickers mean?” Joel asked. There were a few small stickers scattered around the page. Some had names under them.

  “No idea. Maybe these are their friends’ names?”

  Most of the afternoon was taken up with reading the journal and talking about our moms. It was clear that this had been a project both girls had enjoyed doing together and I felt immensely privileged to have an insight into their world, but also to have Joel here with me sharing this experience.

  An idea started forming in my head. I hadn’t realized I’d slowly leaned against Joel until our shoulders touched. I looked up to see his beautiful eyes trying to assess me. He was so close I could smell his cologne, fresh and woodsy, it made the tiny hairs on my arms stand at attention.

  He almost forgot to breathe when he looked down at my lips and then back to my eyes, and time seemed to stop for a moment, my heart was beating so fast I could swear it would leap out of my body any time now.

  Joel’s cheeks were flushed, and I couldn’t resist looking at his lips too, they looked soft and so damn kissable. Fuck, I wanted a taste more than I ever wanted anything in my life. The air around us felt electrified, and I struggled to remember what it was I was doing a minute ago.

  We were like the two polar opposites of a magnet, intrinsically attracted to each other, and I knew it was only a matter of time until we could no longer resist the pull.

  I cleared my throat to speak and stop myself from acting on my thoughts and quickly put a pillow over my lap to hide my arousal. Joel jumped back putting some more space between us and rubbing the back of his neck, tousling his hair as he did it.

  “We should do this,” I pointed to the journal.

  “Do what?”

  “We should follow their journey, go to the places they went, see what they saw and find out if it has changed.”

  “What, like a road trip?” Joel’s grin gave away his thoughts on the matter.

  “Yeah, we can grab some essentials and see where our moms take us. I haven’t had a holiday in a while, and it would also be a good opportunity to do some traditional foods research.”

  The shift in mood in the room from sexual tension to excitement about the road trip was a welcome balm to my senses. We were planning an adventure, and I couldn’t think of anyone else to do this with other than my oldest friend.

  Joel grabbed a notepad and pen I had on the table.

  “May I?” he asked.

  “Sure, do you want a drink?” I asked, getting up and walking towards the kitchen area.

  “Oh yes, please, chilled water would be good. I was thinking we could start by making a list of things we will need,” Joel said. He started scribbling away and muttering to himself.

  I set Joel’s bottle of water on the coffee table and took a refreshing swig from mine.

  “I also have a two-person tent and a couple of sleeping bags. If we can’t get a hotel, I’m sure we’ll come across a campsite.”

  “Oh yeah, good idea.”

  I was a planner by nature and the more detail we added to our notepad the more excited I became.

  “Hold on, we don’t have a car. Your rental was cancelled and I don’t own one. I usually drive Aunt Teresa’s car if I need to go anywhere outside of town.”

  “Oh crap, I didn’t think of that.” He suddenly looked dejected.

  “Why don’t you ask your granddad if he knows what happened to our moms’ car?”

  “You’re a genius! After all we both have matching keys.” He lifted his keys up between us with a big smile, “I’ll ask granddad tomorrow. If he doesn’t know we can look at a local car rental company.”

  We spent more time making a few notes and a list of things we didn’t want to forget. Joel had the idea that we should record this trip in the same way our moms documented theirs.

  I went to my office in search of a few items from the list, particularly my camera since Joel thought we should add photos to our journal.

  When I came back to the living room, I found Joel s
tanding on the balcony looking toward his apartment. I hadn’t realized how dark it was outside already, we’d been reading, talking and planning all afternoon. The light from the street lamp outside my balcony made Joel’s figure look melancholy.

  From the set on his shoulders, I could see he was tense and deep in thought. I decided to approach with care.

  “Joel,” I said, placing my hand softly on his shoulder.

  Joel turned around to face me leaning back against the iron balcony railing. I couldn’t read his mood, and it was making me anxious.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s something I need to do before we go away,” Joel

  said.

  I nodded encouraging him to tell me what he needed. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears and so dark.

  “Can I ask you something? A favor?” he stopped for a second before steeling himself, “You don’t have to do it but, huh I don’t want to do it on my own.”

  “Of course, anything. What is it?” I couldn’t voice it out loud, but I would do anything he needed me to do if there were a chance it would erase that look on his face.

  “The memorial service for my parents is this weekend at the Sanctuary of Cape Espichel. It’s where mom and dad were married,” he turned his head back to look at his apartment.

  “I know, I’m going with my aunt, your grandmother told us a couple of weeks ago and said she’d take us there and that your mom would like it too. Is that ok? Or was it something else you wanted to ask?”

  “That service is more for my family here because they weren’t at the service I held in New York. It was only a small service for me, Max and a few family and work friends.” He looked at me again, his expression telling me how important this request was for him.

  I held his hands in mine, hoping it would reassure him.

  He released a sigh and carried on, “I had planned to go to the Sanctuary before the service and scatter some of the ashes on my own. It will be the last chance I’ll have to be with them, except now I don’t think I can do it on my own. Will you... er... will you come with me, David? Please?” he asked with uncertainty, “I mean, you don’t have to, but--“