1022 Evergreen Place - Debbie Macomber [109]
“Is it possible that…he’s still alive?” she whispered.
The wide grin that broke out across Roy’s face was answer enough. “He is—alive and kicking.”
“Wow,” Mack said. He reached for Mary Jo’s hand and squeezed it hard.
“Where’s he living? Is there any chance we can meet him? I’d love to ask him about Joan. Can we talk to him?” Mary Jo stopped to take a breath.
She wouldn’t have thought Roy’s smile could grow any wider, but it did. “That’s the best part. I don’t know how to describe this. Call it luck. Call it coincidence. Call it whatever you like, but I think it’s pretty darn close to divine intervention.”
Mack’s eyebrows gathered. “What do you mean?”
“Jacob Dennison is living here. In Cedar Cove.”
Mary Jo gasped.
“Get out of here!” Mack said exultantly.
Mary Jo couldn’t believe their luck. “He must be…how old now?” she asked.
“Mid-eighties for sure, maybe older,” Mack said.
“Where is he?”
“Reveille,” Roy told them.
“The veterans’ home on the hill?” All this time Jacob Dennison had been practically under their noses!
“He’d like to meet you.”
Mary Jo nearly fell out of her chair. “You mean you’ve already talked to him?”
“No,” Roy said. “I called their office to be sure I had the right Jacob Dennison. The manager confirmed it and she gave me some useful information. From what she said, he’s only been at Reveille House since March. Before that he lived in Seattle and his three children are still there.” Roy shook his head. “I learned that he’s a widower but I don’t have any details.”
“Oh, no…” Mary Jo was saddened by that. “I’m so sorry.” It felt as if she’d just learned that a close friend had died.
“He doesn’t know about the letters?” Mack asked.
“No, no,” Roy assured them. “I told the manager, a Ms. Roberts, but she promised not to say a word about that to him. Besides, you two found those letters and the diary. You should be the ones to tell him.”
“Do you think we should bring them with us?”
“I do,” Mack said, answering for his father. “It’s what we’ve wanted to do from the moment we read them.”
Mary Jo agreed.
“We’ll get them and head up to Reveille now,” Mack told his father.
“Roy,” Mary Jo said, coming to her feet. “Thank you, thank you very, very much.” She walked around the big desk and hugged her soon-to-be father-in-law. He’d managed what she’d thought was impossible—and with apparent ease.
They stopped at the duplex first, then drove toward Reveille House, a few miles away. The winding road to the facility went up a steep hill that overlooked the cove. The view of Bremerton and the naval shipyard against the backdrop of the Olympic Mountains was breathtaking, but for once Mary Jo barely noticed.
The receptionist met them, and Mack explained that they were there to see Jacob Dennison. They were asked to wait and paced anxiously in the reception room until the woman reappeared ten long minutes later. “Mr. Dennison will be with you shortly,” she said. She led them down the hall to a cozy lounge, fortunately not in use at the moment.
There were bookshelves and a fireplace that looked inviting. A piano stood in one corner, while a number of upholstered chairs and a sofa in matching fabric occupied the middle of the room.
They sat down, Mary Jo perched on the edge of her chair, with the cigar box resting in her lap. It held the diary as well as the letters.
About five minutes later, a young male attendant wheeled in a white-haired man. “Here we go, Mr. Dennison,” he said cheerfully as he settled the wheelchair between Mack and Mary Jo, then left the room. The elderly man regarded them both with faded blue eyes.
He looked from Mack to Mary Jo and smiled. “Do I know you?” he asked shakily.
“No,” Mack answered. “But we know you.”
“How’s that, young man?”
“We’ve read your letters,” he explained.
“Your letters to Joan Manry,” Mary Jo added. “From the war years.”
Jacob frowned. “Where did you find those?”
Mack moved closer to the end of the sofa. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” he said. “I’m Mack McAfee and this is my