Chapter 118: Volume 2, - 118: Dinner Before the Dream

Chapter 118: Volume 2, Chapter 118: Dinner Before the Dream

The kitchen table had been extended with an extra wooden leaf, leaving barely enough room to squeeze six chairs around the narrow space.

Rosa had set out two large floral serving bowls in the center. One with stew, potatoes, and pickled onions, the other holding a mound of yellow rice alongside a basket of crusty bread. Steam rose into the warm evening air, carrying the heavy scent of garlic, bay leaves, and reduced wine.

"Leonor, move the water jug before your grandfather knocks it over with his elbow," Rosa commanded, placing a bowl of green olives on the cloth. "Joaquim, sit down and stop hovering over the salad."

"I’m adjusting the chair, Rosa," Joaquim grumbled, lowering his broad frame into the corner seat near the window.

The front door latch clicked, followed by the heavy thud of work boots on the mat. Karim stepped into the hallway, wiping his forehead with the back of his forearm. He wore a faded navy polo shirt, his jeans dusted with flour around the knees from his Sintra bakery route.

"Smells like Setúbal from the landing!" Karim announced, stepping into the dining area and tossing his van keys onto the small entrance table. "Good evening, everyone."

"Karim, wash your hands," Rosa said instantly, pointing a wooden spoon toward the bathroom. "You have flour on your forearms."

He returned a minute later, sitting in the open chair beside Rayan, reaching across to ruffle Rayan’s hair and resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Mum, pass the salad bowl, please," Karim said, reaching for the bread basket.

"Did you finish the history reading for Monday, Leonor?" Sofia asked, spooning pork into Leonor’s bowl.

"It’s summer, Mum," Leonor groaned. "School doesn’t start for three weeks."

"You have the preparatory reading list from Ms. Fonseca," Sofia said firmly. "Two Chapters on the Discoveries. I want to see your notes before Sunday night."

"Rayan doesn’t have history notes," Leonor muttered.

"Rayan is balancing elite football and his studies," Sofia replied, looking across the table. "When you run six kilometers at seven in the morning, you can complain about two Chapters."

Joaquim took a slow sip of red wine. "How is the clinic holding up, Sofia? Is the new scheduling system working?"

"It’s better," Sofia sighed. "We finally hired two part-time nurses for the Tuesday afternoon shift. The queue doesn’t spill out onto the pavement anymore. But Dr. Mendes is retiring in October, so we have to find another pediatrician."

"Dr. Mendes must be eighty," Rosa said, shaking her head. "He treated your cousin Teresa when she had chickenpox." She reached across with a serving spoon, dropping another heavy ladle of stew and potatoes directly into Rayan’s bowl. "Eat more, Rayan. You’re too thin to be running across that pitch tomorrow. Look at his cheeks, Sofia."

"Nanna, I already ate a full plate," Rayan said, holding his hands up slightly.

"You ate rice," Rosa insisted, tapping his plate with the spoon. "Rice is air. Eat more."

Sofia laughed softly before turning back to her father. "Dr. Mendes is seventy-two, Mum."

Karim took a thick slice of bread and buttered it generously, turning to Rayan with a grin. "How was the briefing today, son?"

"It was fine, Dad," Rayan said. "Standard stuff."

"Standard?" Karim smiled, gesturing with his butter knife. "There is nothing standard about tomorrow! By eight-thirty tomorrow night, the entire country is going to be talking about the boy from Olivais."

Joaquim looked up from his stew, a forkful of potato suspended halfway to his mouth. "Karim, let the boy chew his food before you start building monuments."

"I’m just saying, Joaquim!" Karim insisted. "When you have talent like this, you don’t keep it in a drawer. The coach knows what he has."

"You also told Hicham that your friend’s uncle was going to buy three apartment blocks in Almada and make us all millionaires in 2019," Sofia remarked calmly. "And that crypto scheme you read about on Facebook last winter."

Leonor giggled into her napkin. "And the secondhand lawnmower business!"

"The lawnmower business was a sound idea," Karim said without losing his smile, winking at Rayan. "Regardless, I always knew Rayan had the right focus for this level. Since he was ten years old, I told everyone at the café."

"You always know everything after it happens, Karim," Rosa said dryly, setting a plate of sliced oranges on the table.

As plates were cleared and Rosa began spooning sweet cinnamon rice pudding into small glass bowls, Joaquim leaned back in his chair. He looked at Rayan, then turned his gaze toward Sofia.

"You know, Sofia," Joaquim said quietly. "Four years ago, you used to sit on the balcony worrying yourself sick about the petrol money, the worn-out boots, and the school hours he was missing."

Sofia didn’t dodge the remark. She picked up her water glass, taking a small sip before looking across at Rayan.

"I remember," Sofia said steadily. "And based on the evidence we had then, worrying was the only sensible choice. Football eats time and money, and there were no guarantees. But tomorrow he’s travelling with the senior squad in official travel gear. Having him in that event group is evidence we didn’t have four years ago."

Rayan sat quietly, his hands folded in his lap under the edge of the table. He met her eyes directly, listening to every word without interrupting.

"Thanks, Mum," Rayan said softly.

Sofia smiled gently, but Rayan grinned and added, "Does that mean I don’t have to clean my room before I leave for Alcochete tomorrow?"

Leonor burst out laughing, and Sofia pointed a spoon at him. "Don’t test me, Rayan. The floor in your room still needs to be cleared."

Karim clapped his hands together, setting down his dessert bowl. "All right, let me make sure the Sunday timing is clear."

Sofia pulled a small notepad from her apron pocket. "Rayan leaves for the shuttle at two o’clock to report to Alcochete by three."

"Right," Karim said, tapping his thumb on the table. "I arranged with the bakery dispatcher to take the early morning run tomorrow. I’ll drop the van off at the depot in Amadora and finish everything before eleven. That gives me plenty of time to head home, get changed, and take the train and Metro across from Amadora to Olivais to see Rayan off before two o’clock like I promised. Then we can all take the Metro together over to Campo Grande."

"That works," Sofia said, checking her notes. "The family accreditation window at Gate One is open between four and six-thirty, so we’ll pick up the passes together."

By ten o’clock, Karim had left for his apartment in Amadora, Joaquim and Rosa had settled onto the made-up sofa bed in the living area, and the apartment grew quiet.

Rayan went into his bedroom and shut the door halfway.

He drank a full glass of water, setting the empty tumbler on his desk. He picked up his boots, checking the clean aluminum studs under the lamp before placing them neatly inside his travel bag beside his folded navy and grey tracksuit.

Plugging his phone charger into the wall socket beside his bed, he set his morning alarm for eight o’clock, planning to be asleep early enough to catch nine full hours before the afternoon report time.

A text notification buzzed on the screen. It was from Bia.

Bia: My brother says the traffic near Alvalade is already getting crazy because of the fan zone. Did you finish that green bean soup your nanna brought?

Rayan typed back quickly.

Rayan: ate two bowls. She tried to give me a third.

Bia: Good luck tomorrow, Rayan. We’re all watching. Don’t trip on the stairs.

Rayan: Duarte said the exact same thing.

Bia: Then it must be good advice. Sleep well!

Rayan locked the screen and laid the phone flat on his nightstand, the green charging light pulsing slowly in the dark.

He pulled back the thin sheet, laid his head against the pillow, and looked down at the dark display one last time.

Displayed across the top of the screen was his calendar reminder:

Sporting CP vs. Villarreal CF — 20:00.

Rayan closed his eyes, took a long breath, and let the room go silent.