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“Mauro’s father was a stonemason,” Claudia begins.

Are they really going to do this? Are they going to talk about Uncle Louie like he’s a character in a book? Or is this a story Claudia made up so her son would have one of his own to tell?

“Luigi had one of the most dangerous jobs outside the quarry. He was cutting on the mountain one summer, and they pulled him off the job to fill in aslegnarolo. That’s the man who runs ahead of the marble as it is lowered down the mountain. My father came home one day and told me that the young man I loved was killed in the transport.”

“My father,” Mauro says quietly.

Farah squeezes my hand under the table. I don’t know what to do. How do I tell them that there was no tragic accident? The mostdangerous thing Uncle Louie ever attempted was to light the fat fryers for the zeppole tanks at the Feast, and even then, the Belmar Fire Department stood by in case of an accident.

“I don’t know anything about my father’s family.” Mauro shrugs.

“We know he was American,” Claudia confirms.

Mauro goes on. “You can imagine how stunned I was when I heard your company was called Capodimonte. I thought maybe we were related. But you’re a Baratta.”

“But you’re also a Capodimonte,” Angelo says.

Of course Angelo would be of no help and make everything worse.

“Capodimonte is a popular name on the Ligurian coast,” Claudia says. “Very common.”

“How did you meet…” My voice breaks.

“Luigi?” Farah finishes my question and attempts to shore me up.

Claudia is oblivious to my discomfort and continues with her story. “Mauro’s father came over from America to work in the quarry one summer. We met and fell in love. In those days, you didn’t speak about such matters. It’s a story of young love.”

“And an overbearing father,” Mauro adds. “My grandfather.”

“Yes, it’s true. My father was strict; he ran our family like an army. So, when I met Luigi Capodimonte from America, it was not to my father’s liking.”

“Mamma. Tell the truth. He hated your suitor.”

“If Luigi had lived, I believe I could have changed my father’s mind about him. Luigi was very warm and funny. But my father didn’t want his daughters falling in love with any young man without his approval. When I was a girl, the parents chose the husband and made a match. A proper courtship would commence if the parents approved, even though the old ways were already on their way out fifty years ago. We knew it, but our parents did not.”

“So how did you make it work?” Farah asks. “How did you manage to see one another?”

“At first, I thought Luigi was local, but soon, I learned his Italian was not so great when we had a conversation and he confirmed he was American. But we managed to communicate, and I found him charming. That summer, we fell in love and planned to marry. He promised he would stay in Italy because he knew it was the only way that we could be together.”

“Oh, so you made a plan?” I can’t believe what I am hearing.

“Of course.” Claudia goes on. “I had not shared our plan with my parents. When Luigi died on the mountain, I found out that I was pregnant.” She places her hand on Mauro’s. “I was healed by the news, even though I had no idea what the future would hold for us. We made a happy story out of a sad one. I had my son, and two years later, I married Alberto LaFortezza. Alberto adopted Mauro and loved him like his own.”

“He never made me feel like I was not his son. Mamma didn’t keep the story from me either. She would tell me the story of Luigi when she put me to sleep. It was like a fairy tale to me. A faraway dream that happened to someone else.”

“It’s wonderful that Alberto’s family accepted you.” Farah looks at me.

“They did! Alberto was a wonderful man. We had three more children together, and soon, his quarry prospered. When he died, he owned several of the quarries on the mountain.”

“We made you sad.” Claudia notices the mood under the loggia has changed, especially mine. She chops the air with her hand. “It was so long ago.”

“I understand why.” Farah dabs her eyes with a tissue. “It’s tragic when a mother or father never knows their child.”

“My father didn’t want to tell me that Luigi was killed,” Claudia tells us.

“It’s a terrible thing to have to deliver that news,” Angelo says. “I don’t know how your father did it.”

“My father told me that he was going to come home and lie. He was going to tell me that Luigi went back to America so I wouldn’t cry. But I am happy he told me the truth. I’ve been able to look up and pray to my angel.”