What would Jack say, Harry wondered, if he knew what Harry had seen in Virginia, Minnesota, in the summer of 1946? Harry had been up there to do a story for the paper, and had made arrangements to have lunch with Elissa, who was working at the Virginia hospital on her senior cadet assignment. After a pleasant meal—Harry had paid, relishing his role as uncle—the two walked out of the café on Main Street and were just about to part company when Harry happened to glance up at a delivery truck passing by. He recognized the driver, who looked remarkably similar to Harry himself. Harry raised an eyebrow; Elissa’s face went pink. “It isn’t what you think,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

I can explain, she had written to Harry the following week. He had nowhere else to go—trusted no one, you can imagine. He found me in Mpls some months ago. I haven’t told anyone only because he asked me not to. We see each other regularly but, as I told you, I have been dating several of the doctors at the hospital. Uncle Harry, please don’t tell anyone he is here, as N. is just trying to find himself, and get his feet under himself, as am I. We are not ready to place ourselves at the mercy of our relations, and will not be for some time, I imagine.

Whatever Elissa meant by that, it sounded like trouble to Harry, but Anne had encouraged him not to interfere. “Just imagine what they’ve been through!” she’d said, so Harry had kept quiet. He had his own life to concern him, after all—Tommy was born a few weeks later. The next spring, though, after Elissa got a job in South Dakota, Harry wrote to inquire. By this time, John Mickelson was dead, and Jack had started looking for Nick, who had money coming to him from the will.

Yes, N. did come out here, too, Elissa replied. He is working on a ranch some 30 miles from Pierre, so we see each other only occasionally. Please don’t tell Dad (or Mom or anyone). N. has no interest in the money. Please don’t worry, our friendship is simply the only thing that matters to either of us. I have had no trouble finding more doctors to date, thank you for asking. The trouble I have is in finding any of them remarkable enough to consider seriously.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Harry said to Anne, after reading the letter to her. But still, he hadn’t mentioned anything to Jack or Mary about it. As far as Harry knew now, more than three years later, Elissa and Nick were both still out there, and just tonight Mary had mentioned that Elissa still didn’t have a serious boyfriend, despite all the doctors who were clamoring for the position.