“Unveiling Secrets: What Columbus Never Knew About His Journey”
“Nice guy,” Dad remarked years later. “And his life, his real life, was much less turbulent than in the novel. If you haven’t read it yet, Cathy, you can borrow my copy. I bought it at Barnes & Noble and read it again. It was even better the second time.”
We were at Arturo’s, a pizza joint and jazz club in the West Village where we met at once a week. He drove in from New Jersey and always managed to find public parking nearby. I’d arrived before he did and watched him cross the street and shake hands with Ansel, a blues singer who’d drop in to do a song before returning to his bouncer job at the Zinc Bar, a couple doors down. When Dad walked in, a couple offered their prized corner stools to us. New York always seemed to be on its best behavior whenever he showed up. It wasn’t as jovial when I was on my own.
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