Foggia, and then went up the mountain to work in the iron ore mines in the Alps.”
“What happened to him?”
“He came to America almost twenty years ago to find work. I was told he died in an iron ore mine in Minnesota.”
“And your mother?”
“The Montinis.”
“The printers?”
“Yes, Signore.”
“They made the missals for Holy Week,” Marco remembered.
“For all the churches on the mountain, and in Bergamo and Citta Alta.”
“Why aren’t you a printmaker?”
Ciro looked down at his big hands, not exactly the best tools for pen-and-ink calligraphy. “I’m not delicato, sir.”
Marco took a seat and motioned for Ciro to join him. “How do you earn your living?” Marco asked.
“I apprenticed to Signor Zanetti on Mulberry Street. I’m a shoemaker.”
“Are you a master?”
“Yes. I’ve completed my apprenticeship to Signor Zanetti. My debt to him is paid, and I’m ready to go into business for myself.”
“A lot of competition in this city. They say you can throw a rock in Brooklyn and you’ll hit a shoemaker.”
“I know, Signore. I have a partner, Luigi Latini, and we’re looking to get a loan and start a business where shoemakers are needed.”
“You need a partner?”
“I prefer it, Signore. I grew up with a brother to whom I was devoted. And when I went to enlist in the Great War, I made good friends. One in particular, Signor Juan Torres, looked out for me, and I did the same for him. Sadly, he didn’t come home, but that does not lessen the bond I have to him. I’ve made my way alone for a very long time and it comes naturally for me to seek a partner. Luigi Latini is a good man, and I work well with him. I think we could build a good business together.”
Marco took this in and reflected upon his own experience since he’d come to America. It had been a long and lonely slog. A partner in business was a sounding board, the work was cut in half, and life was less isolated. Ciro made sense.
Marco leaned over the chair and looked at Ciro critically. Ciro’s size and strength designated him as a natural leader. He was an attractive young man, probably popular with the ladies. “Have you had many girlfriends?”
“A few, sir.”
“My daughter was engaged to Vito Blazek.”
“I know. I must have had an angel with me that morning. I got to the church moments before she went inside.”
“When Signor Blazek wrote to me for Enza’s hand, I was impressed with him,” Marco said. “He wrote a very moving letter.”
“It’s better we meet in person, sir. I couldn’t begin to impress you on paper, and I probably wouldn’t try. I used to count on my brother Eduardo to do the writing in the family.” Ciro smiled.
Marco sat back in his chair and took Ciro in. “I can see what kind of a man you are, Ciro.”
“I hope you will trust me with Enza.”
Marco looked down at his hands. The strings within his heart tightened. He did not want to let Enza go, and yet he trusted her judgment. He wondered if Ciro Lazzari had any idea how strong his eldest was. “My daughter is independent. She has made her own decisions for a long time now.”
“I love her because she is so strong. It’s one of the things I most admire about her. When I think of marriage and a long life ahead, I want to know that my wife could take care of my family if something happened to me.”
Marco smiled. He thought of his own Giacomina, who had taken care of the family while he and Enza lived in America. So he said, “We work hard in my family. Do you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’re people of faith. Are you?”
Ciro swallowed hard. He didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t want to mislead his future father-in-law either. “I try, sir.”
“Try harder,” Marco admonished.
“I will, Signore.”
“We’re also loyal. I’ve been away from my wife for more than a few years now, and I haven’t been with another woman. Would such devotion to my daughter be possible under similar circumstances?”
“Yes, Signore.” Ciro began to sweat.
“May I have your word?”
“You have my word, sir.” Ciro’s voice broke.
“There is one more thing I need to know before I would agree to entrust my daughter to you.”
“Anything, sir.” A sliver of panic sliced through Ciro’s chest. Could he have come this far, only to have Enza’s father reject him?
“I want to know why you love my daughter.”
Ciro leaned forward in his chair. He had to think about