She looked up at the two tall men, both of them hovering over her, watching her as though she might collapse at any moment. But their words made her feel less like collapsing than anything they’d said. It would take her a long time to deal with the fact that Miss Edi never knew what they were to each other, but the idea of relatives was startling.
“You mean I might have relatives who have an IQ over seventy, who don’t make it their life’s work to belittle me and make me feel bad?”
“Actually, I think that’s what all relatives do,” Luke said. “My cousins—Ow!” he said when his grandfather punched him on the arm.
“You have the telephone number?” Dr. Dave asked Luke.
“Sure. Right here with me. I thought I’d call, then Joce could—”
She snatched the paper out of his hands. “They’re my relatives; I’m calling.” She went to the big phone on Dr. Dave’s desk. “Shall I put it on speaker?”
Both men nodded.
Joce took a couple of deep breaths, then called the number in upstate New York. Immediately, a man’s voice answered. “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but I’m looking for anyone connected to a man named David Clare, who fought in World War II.”
“Speaking.”
Jocelyn shrugged in puzzlement to the two men. “Are you related to him?”
“I guess I am,” the man said, chuckling.
“You know about Sergeant David Clare who served with General Austin, that David Clare?”
“Young lady, I don’t know how else to tell you that I am David Clare and that I served with old Bulldog Austin.”
“You,” Jocelyn began, but her voice dropped to a whisper. “But you were killed.”
“I was reported dead, but actually, I was held prisoner until the war was over. I can assure you that I am alive, not particularly healthy, but alive.”
“Did you know Edilean Harcourt?”
There was a long pause from him. “Yes. She was…killed in 1944.”
“No. Miss Edi died only last year.”
The man’s voice rose in anger. “I don’t appreciate this. Edilean Harcourt was killed in a fire when a jeep exploded.”
“She wasn’t,” Jocelyn said, near to tears. Was she really talking to Miss Edi’s David—to her own grandfather? “She lived. Her legs were horribly burned, but she lived. I met her when I was ten years old and she was my guide, my foster mother—I don’t know what you call her. When she died, she left me her old house—”
“Edilean Manor,” he whispered.
“Yes. Miss Edi never married. She spent most of her life traveling all over the world with a Dr. Brenner and helping him with disasters. They—” Joce broke off and looked at Luke. “I think he’s crying.” But then Joce could no longer hold back her tears.
Luke took the phone from her, and by that time a man was yelling. “I don’t know who the hell you are to make Uncle Dave cry, but—”
In the background, Luke could hear, “No, no, no. It’s about Edi. They knew Edi.”
The angry young man stopped shouting. “You know something about Miss Edi?”
“You’ve heard of her?” Luke asked.
“Are you kidding? I grew up hearing that name. The Lost Love, the only woman Uncle Dave ever loved. You know something about her? Like where she’s buried? Wait! Uncle Dave wants the phone back.”
Luke put the phone back on speaker so they could all hear.
“Who are you?” David Clare asked.
“I think I’m your granddaughter,” Joce said before she started crying again, then David also gave way to tears.