BooksBarbecue
Back Salt and Sugar Save as PDF
Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. About the Author
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. EPILOGUE
  56. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

“I know I’ll regret this,” he says, letting out a heavy sigh, “but, yeah, we can give this plan of yours a try.”

“Really?”

“For now, yeah.”

He stretches a hand out to me and I grab hold before he can change his mind, my heart beating out of my chest. We both look down at our hands. At the symbol of our truce. For better or for worse—for better, I hope—this is probably the first time since Great-grandma Elisa and Dona Elizabete that a Ramires and a Molina have willingly brokered an alliance.

Does Pedro realize the weight of this moment, too?

FRIDAY, MAY 13

I don’t know what Pedro said to convince his mother, but the next day, Dona Eulalia asked Mom if they could talk. Mom was unsure about it, but I suggested they meet at the feirinha—neutral ground—to figure out each other’s boundaries (no more recipe stealing!) and their party planning responsibilities over powdered milk–covered açaí bowls.

Thank you, Pedro!

And thank you, açaí, for being so distractingly delicious and setting the tone for their conversation!

It all went fine, or as fine as you get when you’re in a decades-old rivalry, because for the rest of the week, they work without any fighting. Mom will bake salgados, and she’ll be in charge of finding a good florist and looking up designs for the party’s decor. Dona Eulalia will bake a birthday cake and doces, and she’ll book a live band and hire more waiters, too.

We’re finally starting to make some progress. And not just in the neighborhood. At school, too, there’s been a shift in the way people treat me. Well, in the way one person in particular treats me.

Pedro must have told Luana that I joined the cooking club after all, because she’s stopped poking at me. She even let me go ahead of her in the cafeteria this week, and when her turn at the cashier came and she couldn’t figure out what flavor of geladinho she wanted, she asked for my opinion. Almost like a friend, no?

Gum-flavored, I said.

It’s not like we’re back to doing each other’s makeup like when we were little, but this feels like the beginning of better times.

I just hope that all of this positive progress isn’t fleeting.

24

MONDAY, MAY 16

Another Monday at the club arrives.

When I step into the kitchen, the usual music is blasting, although a bit louder than Pedro normally allows. Speaking of Pedro, he’s at the stove with PC, boiling spaghetti noodles, although it’s more like Pedro is multitasking between checking if the noodles are al dente and pouring PC a glass of orange juice like he’s his personal waiter.