“Esteemed comrades, it warms my heart that so many of you have joined us tonight. As you have heard or seen, we have the Garibaldi family among us.” He smiled at some of the finely dressed women in the front. “Alas, Giuseppe could not be with us today. He has left for Turin already. I cannot share his plans, but I can share with you his incredible wife, Anita. The beautiful young woman who ran away from her family to join our Giuseppe in his adventures.” Paolo encouraged me to accompany him in front of the audience. Standing next to him, I scanned the anxious faces waiting for me to say something.

The little café was filled beyond capacity. Every face looked at me with hopeful eyes. This had never been my place. José was the voice; I was just the woman who stood in the back of the room watching him conjure his magic with his words. What was I supposed to say to these people? Why should they listen to me? I was just a girl from a little town in Brazil. I wasn’t José. Realization dawned on me…I wasn’t José.

“Senhor Paolo flatters me. I know you all came here out of curiosity so that you could hear about Giuseppe, or Peppino, as you call him. Or perhaps you are curious about the untamed Brazilian woman who left her family to be with your hero. Well, here I am, we can see that I am nothing special.” I smiled mischievously. “Though my sponsor will be the best witness as to my wild ways.

“But to know my José is to know the people he surrounds himself with. These people shaped him as he in turn inspired them to be better men. Let me tell you a story. When I met José, all those many years ago, there was a man in his service, his name was Luigi Rossetti. Perhaps you have heard of him? Like José, Luigi found his foster home of Brazil because he was expelled from here, from the fatherland. Like José, Luigi wanted a unified Italy. Like José, Rossetti wanted a just and fair government for Italy. With each breath, he made sure we all knew this was every man and woman’s right.”

The audience collectively leaned forward, waiting for more of my story. “There were many nights when José and Rossetti would stay up until the sun rose talking about these ideas. Talking about how they could apply the lessons they were learning in Rio Grande do Sul’s struggle for independence toward the unification of Italy.”

I smiled to myself, looking down at the scuffed floor. My worn black shoes stood out in contrast to the tan tile. I wiggled my toes, noticing that my big toe was about to break through the old leather as I tried to map out my next thoughts. “Even though José was an ocean away from his home, he still talked about Italy every day. Sometimes, when he and Rossetti were so focused on their plans for Italy, I felt like I was José’s mistress. Italy always has and always will be his first love.