The boys arrived at the townhouse. Harry's eyes ascended the walls of the three-story structure.

"I like terra cotta," he said.

"How did you know that's the color? Most people just say red."

"I like art. I have oil paints at home. Terra cotta is one of my reds."

"Yeah, Uncle Cosmo had it painted before he died. My pop said he insisted on the color because his grandfather's house in Trapani was painted the same color."

The townhouse stood on the corner of Via Rosario and Via Dante, not far from the American Consulate.

"Those railings up there are beautiful," Harry said commenting on the swirling ironwork that adorned the second and third floor balconies.

John unlocked the heavily, carved double entry doors and called to his mother.

"Ma, come quick. I got a surprise for you."

Mama Marino came from the kitchen rubbing her flour-covered hands on her apron. Her gray streaked hair pulled tight in a bun, a quizzical look on her oval face.

"I'm just finishing the pasta, Johnny."

"Mama, I want you to meet Harry Trumfio from America."

"America!"

"Yes, Chicago," John said.

"Does he know Uncle Carlo and Aunt Maria?"

John laughed, "I don't know, Ma. You can ask him."

Harry shook his head, "I don't think so, Misses."

"No matter, come here." Mama gave Harry a hug. "It's good to see someone from America. Welcome to our home. You stay for dinner?"

Harry bowed, "Thank you, Mrs. Marino."

"Please call me Mama, everybody does." She looked to Johnny and said, "Show your friend where to wash up and you wash, too. I need to finish fixing dinner. Papa will be home soon."

"Okay, Ma. C'mon, Harry, I'll show you the house. It's really pretty jake."

John led Harry into the living room. On the far wall was a high-back, gold velvet sofa, three white doilies were draped under the back scroll works. Two gold end tables with lamps stood beside each arm of the sofa. The focal point of the room was a huge stone fireplace flanked by blue velvet covered, wing back chairs. Lace curtains and gold drapes adorned three windows that looked out onto the street.

"What a neat room to keep warm in when it's cold."

"Yeah, Ma loves to have a fire going, but I have to chop the wood."

"Snazzy coffee table!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yeah, it's a bar too. The doors open. Pa keeps glasses and his Grappa and Sambuca in there.

Harry touched the fringe on a lampshade, "These shades are like my ma's, only hers have brown fringe." A vision of his mother dusting her lampshades flashed in his head.

"That's the library." John gestured to a side room closed off with French doors.

"Harry, you still with me?"

"Oh, yeah, John, I was just thinking."

"A little homesick, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I still get that way sometimes," Johnny said as he opened one of the French doors. Pop uses this as his office now. There's a door in there that leads to the warehouse. That's where the stuff for the business is stored."

Mama called from the kitchen, "Show him the dining room and tell Nonna that dinner is almost ready."

"C'mon, we'll ride up."

"Ride?"

"Yeah, over here."

John led Harry to an elevator that looked like a giant birdcage. He slid the safety gate open and then the cage gate.

"Get in."

John turned a key on the elevator control box. The control box reminded Harry of a round cake container with a handle. John twisted the handle clockwise. The elevator car jerked and began to rise. After some seconds, John rotated the handle, the cage stopped a bit above the second floor landing. He jockeyed the car until it was even with the floor and slid both gates open.

"That was some ride," Harry said as the boys stepped from the elevator into the dining room.

"What's up there?" Harry pointed to a spiral staircase.
***