Dove
If someone had told me six months ago that I would spend my Friday morning being intimidated by an elderly Brazilian patriarch holding a plastic tea set, I would have laughed in their face.
Before we even piled into the SUVs, I met Vovô Pedro.
He was Benecio, Daniel, Danilo, and Bunky's grandfather—a legend in the Pereira family line. Vovô Pedro was a towering, silver-haired man with severe, granite-carved features and an air of absolute, unquestioned authority that made even Daniel straighten his spine when he walked into a room. He looked like the kind of man who had built empires with his bare hands and broken a few noses along the way.
And yet, when I walked into the kitchen at seven-thirty, Vovô Pedro was sitting solemnly on a low wooden stool in the courtyard, holding a tiny, bright pink plastic teacup while four-year-old Bunky poured imaginary chamomile tea from a toy kettle.
