side of the bed. It was four o’clock in the morning; she had arrived home at one.
The words of her father consumed her. Without the care of a mother and a father, and a solid example of marital love, what if Ciro did not know how to be a husband? He certainly didn’t know how to be a good husband tonight. What if his womanizing ways had returned, his vow of fidelity a short-lived hope after the long war, but a promise he could never keep? She fell asleep as disturbing thoughts consumed her.
Later still, Ciro pushed open the front door of the shop. The bells on the door jingled, and he silenced them by reaching up and placing his hand over the ringer. He locked the door behind him. He climbed the stairs slowly, having had too much to drink and not enough to eat. He was a bit dizzy, and had no idea what time it was. He made his way down the hall and into their bedroom. He undressed slowly. He looked over at Enza, who was asleep. Ciro slipped into bed and pulled the covers over him. His head sank into the pillow, fragrant with lavender. The sheets were soft, the mattress firm. He smiled at the thought of having a wife who had made him a lovely home. He rolled over to kiss her sleeping cheek. She opened her eyes.
“You’re home,” Enza said.
“You’re awake?” Ciro asked. “Why did you leave the party?”
“I couldn’t find you.”
“I was in the barn.”
Enza’s voice caught. “What were you doing there?”
“Playing cards with a man named Orlich, a Polish fellow named Milenski, an old man named Zahrajsek, and another man I can’t remember.”
“What about the girl?”
“What girl?”
“The dancing girl.”
“I don’t know who you mean,” Ciro said. But he knew exactly who Enza was referring to. The girl had reminded him of the French girl he’d met during the war. She had the same gold braid and warm smile.
“I couldn’t find you.”
“I’m sorry. I should have told you I was going to play cards.”
“Yes, you should have.”
“I had too much to drink,” Ciro said.
“Don’t make excuses.”
“But it’s true,” Ciro said, turning to face her in bed. “I drank too much, and nothing more.”
“Do you want me to be honest with you?” she asked.
He nodded.
“When Ida mentioned 1904, you looked wounded.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” Ciro turned over in the bed, away from Enza. “What good would it do now?”
“If you accept what happened to your father, you’ll find peace.”
“I have peace,” Ciro said defensively.
“Well, I don’t. When you’re troubled, you withdraw. I came home hoping to find you here. When you weren’t, I had hours to think about what might have happened to you. I was afraid you went with the girl with the gold braid.” Enza shuddered to admit that she’d felt abandoned, but this night had brought up every insecurity she had ever known.
“Why would I do that?” he asked softly.
“Because you could. You could disappear from my life, just as you did in the past. It made me wonder, what do I really know about you?”
“You know everything,” Ciro assured her. Maybe it was his wife’s brutal honesty and clear-eyed observations about his behavior, but it made Ciro think, and he had an epiphany. He not only appreciated Enza’s point of view, it made him look at his own. The truth was, Ciro saw their romantic past as a series of near misses, the result of bad luck and poor timing. Once they were married, he forgot how close they had been to spending their lives without each other. Clearly, she hadn’t. Enza was complex in ways he could not yet decipher. They were from the same mountain, but their insecurities created chasms that they couldn’t fill.
Ciro turned over and placed his arm around Enza. “I’m sorry you couldn’t find me. I danced with her without thinking of your feelings. I didn’t know it would hurt you. It was just a dance. You’re my life.” He kissed her gently. He could feel the corner of her mouth turn into a smile as he kissed her.
“It can’t happen again, Ciro,” she said firmly.
“Please don’t turn into the wife that chases her husband with a broom.”
“I won’t chase you with a broom.” She returned his kiss with equal passion, then added, “I’ll pick up a shovel.”
Enza lay back and laced her fingers through his.
“We have a little money left over from my savings.”
“You’ve done a wonderful job furnishing