The Shoemaker's Wife(119)

“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 why he loved Enza because he hadn’t questioned it. Ciro knew that there was a correct answer. He knew that men learned how to love; they weren’t born with that capacity. He knew the qualities of a good man included all the aspects that concerned Marco: loyalty, fidelity, ambition, and gentleness. As a man, Ciro had been shaped by the loss of his father, the absence of his mother, the ordination of his brother, and his decision to volunteer to fight in the Great War. Each of Ciro’s choices had changed the landscape of his heart and his ability to love. In many ways, he felt lucky he still could.

As a boy, Ciro had learned how to give of himself generously in the convent. He knew how to be loyal because he had grown up with Eduardo, who taught him the nuances of what it meant to be a loving brother. Ciro had given up searching for love, hoping it would fill that deep well of regret that he still carried at having been abandoned by his mother, but he was wise enough to know that you can’t always blame your parents for your sadness. After so much rejection, and periods of emotional drift and loneliness, Ciro had finally found what was missing. He didn’t want Marco to think that he’d chosen Enza to save himself, but deep down, he believed it was true. Ciro loved Enza, but was that enough for Marco, who had put everything he was into his family? There was no building, bridge, ocean liner, or shoe with Marco Ravanelli’s name on it, just the quiet and exemplary life of a good man who lived in service to the family he created. Ciro hesitated to tell Marco what was in his heart, because he knew more than Ciro ever would about what it takes to love one woman and build a life with her.

So Ciro said, “I traveled far, Signor Ravanelli. I have never met a woman like Enza. She’s intelligent without being condescending. She’s beautiful without vanity. And she’s funny when she isn’t trying to be. I love her and will give her a good life. Your daughter encourages the best in me. When I’m with her, I’m in the presence of grace, and she makes me aspire to it.”

Marco took a moment to think about Ciro’s words. He saw that an honest young man sat before him. If Marco were completely honest, he would admit that he saw also a sadness in Ciro, one that he could not name. Marco didn’t know if that meant Ciro hadn’t made peace with the past, or if it might portend something grave in the future. He knew there was a certain seriousness about Ciro, born of a life experience that Marco himself had not endured. On the surface of things, it appeared to Marco that this was a solid match, and one that Giacomina would endorse. Ciro was from the mountain, and he knew Enza’s dialect and way of life. That accounted for something on this unexpected morning. He would find comfort in the knowledge that his daughter would marry a man who understood what she came from, and for Marco Ravanelli, this tipped his decision in Ciro’s favor.

Ciro still sat on the edge of the chair. His future and the fulfillment of all his dreams were at the mercy of another.

Marco slowly reached into his pocket and removed an envelope. He placed the envelope on the table and rested his hand upon it. He looked at Ciro. “For Enza.”