As night slowly falls and everyone is ready, we leave the house, all dressed in comfortable clothes—just like me.
The brothers tease each other, then gang up to torment the youngest. Despite everything, even with Malia arguing with them, I can tell she enjoys the relationship she has with her brothers.
I smile, remembering how Angelina and I used to love picking on each other too.
— Oh, please, little one. We're better-looking.
— Hotter.
— More irresistible than you. — the brothers say, and I can't help but find their habit amusing.
— And yet you're still a bunch of single losers, living with mommy and daddy. I know very well that Bryan still bothers Mom in the middle of the night, Breno loves having warm milk before bed, and you, Bruno—I won't even mention how sad you get if Mom forgets your goodnight kiss. — Malia says, looking at them, but they don't seem affected at all.
— Mom likes spoiling us.
— It's not our fault you think you're all grown up.
— We're still her babies.
— Enough, boys. Let's head to the restaurant before the whole town decides to go out for dinner tonight. — Mrs. Vilma says. — The five of us will go in your father's car. Malia will go with the baby and her boyfriend in his car, following us. Alright?
— Yes. — I answer, since she was looking at me.
We all get into the cars, and as soon as theirs pulls away, I follow.
— Did I mention this town is small? — Malia asks, and I smile. — I'm serious. This is the only restaurant in town, and I bet everyone already knows we're having dinner there.
— Don't worry. — I say, squeezing her hand.
I intend to propose to her today, but from what I've seen, her parents would think it's too soon, and she might feel nervous in front of so many people. So I plan to do something more formal.
I don't think she'd want me to make a scene.
I keep following her parents' car until we arrive at a restaurant. We park on the street and step out.
I pick Sofia up so Malia can adjust herself, and we meet the others at the entrance. David and the rest are waiting for us, and we all go in together.
— Vilma, I heard you were coming. — an older woman says as she approaches. — I saved a table for you. We're packed tonight.
I see Malia shake her head while the boys try to hold back their laughter.
— Dona Chica, my dear, we came to have dinner with our new brother-in-law. — one of the brothers says, hugging the woman.
— And who came running to gossip to you? — another asks.
— People around here sure are fast, aren't they, Mrs. Vilma? — the third adds, implying it's their mother's fault everyone knows.
— They're all a bunch of gossips, that's what they are. — she says, completely unfazed. — Let's sit.
The woman leads us to our table, which is right in the middle of the restaurant. As we walk, everyone inside turns to look at us.
— I told you. — Malia whispers beside me.
— Is it like this for everyone who comes into town? — I ask.
— No, but since my mother is the leader of the town's little pack, gossip spreads fast. They've probably already looked up your license plate by now. — she says, amused, and I laugh.
— You're exaggerating. They're just looking at who walked in. And it's not that easy to look up license plates.
— I'm serious. Dona Maria is part of the group, and her husband is the chief of police. Which means if Mom, as the leader, doesn't already know everything about you, she will soon. — she whispers, stopping as we reach the table.
I glance at Mrs. Vilma, who treats me normally—at least, I think so. I doubt she knows more than what I've already said.
— Here, Eduardo, take a look at the menu. — Mrs. Vilma says, handing it to me.
— Here, Malia. You choose. — I say, passing it to her.
I'm still holding Sofia, who plays with the collar of my shirt. I bounce my leg where she's sitting, and she smiles widely.
— What do you all want to eat? We can order a bit of everything. — Malia says, looking at her family.
— Won't that be too much? We can split the bill. What do you think, Eduardo? — Mrs. Vilma asks, and I shift my attention from Sofia to her.
— Don't worry. It was my idea to come out for dinner. I'll pay. — I say, smiling at her, and she nods with a broad smile.
Sofia tugs at my hand, and I look back at her. She's staring with interest at my watch, so I take it off and place it in her hand.
— Do you like it, sweetheart? — I ask, still bouncing my leg as she examines my watch with full attention.
Sofia makes little baby sounds and points at the watch with her tiny finger, looking at me as if she's trying to say something. Then she bounces on my lap, smiling widely and clapping her hands with it still in her grasp.
— She liked your watch. — Dona Vilma says, watching us.
— It's a beautiful watch. — David, Malia's father, says. — Where did you buy it? I have a few watches at home. They're a bit expensive, but I like watches.
— Dad collects watches and Malia collects mugs. — Breno says, if I remember his name correctly.
— In our house, everyone has their own kind of collection. Malia and her mugs, David and his watches. Bryan and his passion for cars—since he doesn't have the money to buy the ones he really wants, he collects miniatures. Bruno and his Playboy magazines—he thinks he can hide them from me, right under my roof. And Breno… my God, I'd rather not even say what he collects.
— Okay, we get it, let's get back to the watch. — Breno says, while his mother just laughs. — So, brother-in-law, where did you buy the watch? That way we'll know what to give our dad for his birthday.
— It's from IWC Schaffhausen, a Portugieser. — I say, and I see David's eyes widen.
— That famous brand? Like, their watches don't cost less than thirty thousand dollars. — he says, impressed. You can tell he's really a watch enthusiast.
— It's your dream watch, isn't it, Dad? Not even all your expensive watches together are worth that much. — Breno says.
— My watches are relics, you idiot. I know you'd never understand. — he says to his son.
— Here you go, family, I brought the dishes. — The woman who welcomed us at the restaurant arrives at our table and starts placing the food down with the waiters.
— That was fast. — I say, impressed, as Malia takes Sofia from my arms to feed her.
— I ordered shared plates instead of a more elaborate meal. It comes out faster and fills everyone up more. But if you want, we can order something else. — she says.
— No, it's fine. — I reply.
Along with the dishes, there's rice too, probably to go with the fish.
Malia ordered fried fish fillet, cheesy potatoes, cold cuts, salad, tambaqui, chicken, and sausage with onions.
It's a lot of food, and I think it'll be enough for everyone. If not, we can always order more.
— Malia knows how to order food. — Bryan says.
— The only thing she knows how to do well. — Breno adds.
— Except for our little Sofia, who's perfect. — Bruno finishes.
— Are you going to start eating or do I have to shove it down your throats? — Malia asks, and they shrug before starting to eat.
At first, only the twins are talking, while the others are more focused on serving themselves and Malia on feeding her little one.
— This seems like a good time to ask if you could explain what you said earlier. — David says, looking at me. — I mean, how you're going to help Malia get custody of my granddaughter.
I look down at my plate and then at him, not quite sure how to begin. So I decide to be direct.
— I want to marry Malia. — I say, and instantly everyone stops eating while Malia chokes. She knew we'd get to this eventually, but I think she was still caught off guard.
— Marry? — her father asks, staring at me in shock.
— Yes. I like her, and I know that if she has stability, it will be easier to get custody of Sofia. — I say, but I don't mention that, if necessary, I would bribe every judge in this country.
— But… Malia can have stability without getting married. She can move back in with us and ask for custody. — he says, not opposing, just thinking through the options.
— That wouldn't be a good idea. She needs financial stability and a stable relationship. Those would be strong points to win the case, but it will be impossible for her to succeed without a job and while living with her parents. I understand your intention to help, and I've already talked to Malia about it. I want to marry her, build a family—and that includes Sofia. I want her to grow up close to her mother. — I say, while they all look at me in shock.
— I know it's sudden, but we care about each other. — Malia says, taking my hand. — And if it doesn't work out, I'll still have my daughter with me. I'll be better off than I am now. — she says, looking into her parents' eyes.
— My God… — her mother says, staring at her.
— But when are you planning this? The way you're talking, it sounds like you want to get married tomorrow. You're not pregnant, are you, daughter? I mean… just hypothetically. — her father says, a bit nervous, though it ends up being funny despite the situation.
— Who gets pregnant hypothetically? — Bryan asks, still shocked.
— Imagine Malia saying, "if, hypothetically, I'm pregnant, we have to get married." — Breno continues.
— "Let's use the hypothesis to choose our baby's name—Hypocles for a boy and Hypotenuse for a girl." — Bruno finishes, raising his voice and trying to imitate Malia.
It's impossible not to laugh, easing the tension a little.
— I'm not pregnant, Dad, and the wedding won't be that soon. — Malia replies.
Yeah… two months isn't that far away.
— We're still getting to know each other. But I can say that Malia is the one I want by my side. — I say, looking at her as she blushes.
— Okay, alright. We'll have time to talk about it. — her father says, and soon everyone goes back to eating.
The twins start an animated conversation and we keep talking, until a couple walks past our table and sits down at the table next to ours—very close.
The twins suddenly stop talking and look at the couple with clear displeasure. Malia's parents pretend not to notice them, while Malia keeps all her attention on Sofia.
— Malia, long time no see. I can't even remember the last time we saw each other. — the man says, and I notice his girlfriend looking at Malia with disdain.
I don't know what's going on, but there's definitely something there.
I see Malia lift her gaze to the couple and frown.
— Oh, hi Paulo. How are you? Hi, Carla. — she greets them politely.
— We're fine. — the woman replies impatiently. — Babe, let's sit and order?
— Relax, Carla. It's been a while since I've seen Malia—I want to catch up. — he says with a seductive smile, and I raise an eyebrow.
— Careful, brother-in-law, that idiot has been after my sister since school. — Breno says from beside me.
— There's no catching up to do, Paulo. Your girlfriend looks hungry, judging by her expression. — Bryan says, not being polite at all.
— Bryan! — his father scolds him, though he seems like he wants to laugh.
— Always so tense, aren't you, Bryan? Of course, considering you can't stand seeing someone better than you. — Paulo says, and I can tell this might turn into a circus.
I glance around and notice everyone in the restaurant has gone quiet, trying to listen.
— Sure, as long as you're not talking about yourself. — Bryan replies.
— Of course I am. My father is the mayor, and yours is an architect. I'm the manager of the only bank in town, and you? Well… just a simple engineer working at daddy's company.
— You think that's an insult? At least I didn't get my job or finish college with my father's help. — Bryan says, and I see the man grow angry.
I glance at Malia's other brothers, who seem amused by the situation.
— Listen here, you—
— Enough, boys. We came here to have dinner. — Malia's father interrupts, not seeming bothered at all by the argument. — Paulo, let me introduce you to Malia's boyfriend. This is Eduardo.
The man looks me up and down and smiles cynically.
— Boyfriend, huh?
— Future husband. — Bryan adds.
— And what do you do for a living? — he asks, and I feel like laughing.
— Why don't you sit at your table with your girlfriend and stop acting like my sister's father? She already has someone for that. — Bryan says, irritated, and with a smile the man steps away and sits at the next table.
He's so close that even if you pushed the tables together, the distance would be the same.
— So… has Malia already met your family, Eduardo? — Dona Vilma asks, drawing everyone's attention.
— Not yet, just my niece briefly. We were supposed to have dinner with my parents this week, but my father had to travel, so I rescheduled. — I explain.
— I see. And what do your father and you do? — Malia's father asks.
— We already know he's not a lawyer.
— Nor a judge.
— Much less a politician. — the brothers joke, and I smile.
— My father is retired and I… — I don't even finish before I hear a laugh from the next table.
— Care to explain what's so funny? Otherwise, laugh more quietly and don't disturb others. — Bryan says to Paulo, who looks at him with disdain.
— Nothing, I was just telling my girlfriend how funny it is that nowadays so many people depend on government salaries. — he says, and it starts to irritate me—but in a way that makes me laugh.
— Government salaries… — I repeat, laughing.
Everyone looks at me, except Malia, who is focused on cleaning the mess Sofia made on her clothes. — Which bank did you say you work at?
— Le'bank. I'm sure you've heard of it—it's one of the biggest banks in our country, and I'm the manager of the branch here. The town is small, but since my father is the mayor, he managed to bring the agency here. Because of him, we're not living in the stone age in this small town. — he says, bragging, and I smile.
— Don't mind this idiot, brother-in-law. If his father depended on our family to become mayor, he wouldn't get a single vote. — Breno says to me. — You were saying your father is retired and you…
— Another government freeloader, I bet. — Paulo says from the next table.
It doesn't bother me that he thinks he's superior—there are people like him everywhere. What irritates me is how he tries to belittle others in the process. He insulted Malia's father by trying to compare him to his own.
— I work with banks too. — I say, ignoring him.
— And how much do you make? My salary is above average, but I'll let you include bonuses. — he says, and I find myself laughing.
— It's thirty thousand, and I don't get bonuses. — I say, thinking about shutting him up for good when he starts laughing again.
— Thirty thousand a year? I make around eighty thousand a year, but sure, it's something.
— You shouldn't talk to your boss like that, Paulo. — Malia says for the first time since the argument started. — There, all clean, princess.
Malia doesn't pay attention to anyone staring at her in confusion and surprise.
But in that moment, I see a businesswoman. I know her education, and even while taking care of her daughter, she looks at him coldly before turning warm again to her child.
— Boss? Him? Are you crazy, Malia? — he asks, laughing.
— What does she mean? — Breno asks beside me.
— My grandfather is Antony Lecler, founder of Le'bank. After he passed away, my father took over. When my father retired, I took over the family business. In other words, the bank is mine.
— You're kidding—you just said you make thirty thousand a year. — he retorts.
— No, I didn't. I said I make thirty thousand—that's what I earn per hour in profit. My monthly salary is around one hundred thousand. Not that I need to check if my salary hits my account. — I say, and everyone looks at me in shock.
— Can we go? Sofia is getting sleepy. — Malia asks, and everyone agrees in silence.
— Here, can you pay? — I ask, taking a card from my wallet and handing it to her.
— Yes, and I forgot to give your card back earlier. — she says, sounding guilty.
— Don't worry, the password is the table number. — I say, handing it to her. She asks me to hold Sofia for a moment and walks off.
Everyone falls silent, including the idiot at the next table.
— So, brother-in-law, as the owner, you can fire anyone you want, right? — Bryan asks, clearly trying to provoke.
— Yes. — I reply simply, not even looking at the other man, just focusing on Sofia.
— Too bad you don't handpick your employees. — he says, emphasizing the last word. — I get it, there are so many working for you that some of them are irrelevant. — he continues provoking.
— Alright, we can go. — Malia says, handing me back the card and taking Sofia.
We all stand up and head to the exit. Malia's parents greet a few people on the way out, and soon we all head back to their house.
— I'm sorry, that dinner was a mess. Especially when that idiot showed up. — Malia says in the car.
— He and your brother don't get along. — I state the obvious.
— Bryan used to be in love with Carla's sister, who was in love with Paulo. They've hated each other since school, but when Paulo found out who Bryan liked, he went after the girl. He dated her for a while, and it was around the same time he started going after me—probably just to mess with my brother. The girl knew Bryan liked her and started blaming him, saying he was pushing me toward Paulo so they would break up. Teenage drama. After a while, he broke up with her to date the sister. Paulo still flirts with me to provoke my brother—everyone knows it, but Bryan still falls for it.
— Paulo doesn't seem like a good person.
— He's not. He's just a jerk, and he got worse after his father became mayor. I left town before he started working at the bank. — she says. — And about the marriage… you caught me off guard saying it like that. — she adds with a smile.
I've just parked in front of her parents' house, but no one gets out.
— Sorry, but I thought it was better to be direct. — I say, and she nods. — Do you think two months is enough? I mean, for us to get married?
— The sooner, the better. — she says eagerly, glancing at the back seat, watching her daughter.
— Then after you meet my parents, you can start the preparations… — I say, and she nods.
I look outside and see her mother talking to a few women a little further up, and her three brothers by the gate, laughing.
— Malia, can I kiss you?