Their lasagna came and, while they ate, Anne set to work finding out all she could about Harry. “You’ve lived twice as long as I have,” she teased him, “so I have twice as much to find out!” He rolled his eyes, but seemed to enjoy telling her stories about his various newspaper jobs in small towns around the region, and about college in Appleton. But when she asked about his family, his face clouded over.

“You said you have two brothers?” she asked.

“Well, I had two brothers that fought in the war. One of them didn’t make it home.”

Her face fell. “Oh. I’m sorry. That must have been terrible.”

“My brothers are both big heroes in my hometown. They’ve even got a statue of Chase on the courthouse lawn. He died in the battle of Belleau Wood. And my other brother, Jack, he’s the oldest in our family, he’s been the president of just about every club in town, VFW, American Legion, you name it.”

“So you’re the wanderer in the family.”

“I guess. My sister, Jinny, she’s kind of the same way. She’s an actress on the radio in Chicago. She tried to get into the movies some years back, she went out to California, but she only got a bit part or two and decided to go back where she was wanted. You might have heard her, if you listen to the soap operas. She calls herself Jennifer Michaels.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t listen to those shows.”

Harry grinned. “That’s probably a good thing. I catch them every now and then, just to listen to my sister. But I don’t hear from her much, only if she needs money.”

“Doesn’t she make a good salary, being on the radio?”

“Oh, sure, but there’s an image to maintain! When she goes out to clubs and such, she’s got to have the right clothes. And she’s got to have the right address.”

“Oh!”

“So, that’s my family. Jack’s the only one who’s ever made anything of himself.”

“Harry, I can’t believe you would say that, when you have such an important position.”

He scoffed. “An important position, maybe, but I’m never going to be president of any VFW or Moose Lodge or anything. Everywhere I’ve gone, I’ve been an outsider.”

“Well, you’re afraid to stay long enough to really belong, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“Two years one place, three years another, one year? Of course you’re going to be an outsider, if you never stay long enough for folks to get to know you.”