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Because no respectable Italian family would ever accept her as a daughter-in-law.
She wanted someone to look at her the way that Papa looked at Mama, the way that Luca looked at Antonia. She wanted to be valued, not tolerated, and not even Papa could buy her that.
She’d thought about Harlem, of course. Ever since she was old enough to know it existed. It seemed strange to her that just thirty-five minutes away there were neighborhoods where she could walk down the street and no one would bat an eyelash.
“You men are always talking about how the world is like it came out of the box this way,” she said irritably. “Like it’s set in stone and you can’t do a thing about it.”
She saw clearly now how a horse could grow to love its blinders. Maybe it was better not to have choices, not to have an open pasture to run in.
She understood now that there was never a choice made that did not cost something.
Anna Maria nodded. “Yes. I know what it would mean. I always knew the day would come, dear, when you may want to leave this community and find your own.”
“Anyway, three days later I went back and got you. I told your father that this was the way of things in my own home as far as I was concerned, and he did not try to change my mind. We had you christened and I named you after my mother. Because you were my daughter.”
She wished her mother were still alive so that she could ask her how to manage being a smart woman in a family where men did not value such a thing.
Everyone always does what’s best for themselves. It is the oldest law of nature. Why should you be any different? This family wades in blood to make its way. Blood is its destiny, your destiny. The only choice is whose will flow and who will be washed away. Swim or be drowned, little Lottie.
