“A love story can be described, but it’s truly known to only two people. They share the first accidental brush of fingertips, every sigh and private joke. They dance to the same music in their hearts for a lifetime.”

I wiped away fresh tears and read her note for the tenth time. No matter what inheritance she’d arranged, I couldn’t simply walk away from my job. Fairfield had been very good to me, and besides, there was no guarantee of my producing a book, much less having success with it. The bad part of Violet’s wonderful news was having no one to tell. My family was gone and friends at work would be less than thrilled to hear I’d inherited money from a resident.

Halle jumped to my side and began pawing legal pads left and right. I swatted her toward my feet and she curled up, content to let me read until her stomach beckoned for service. I sighed at the five pound box of letters and journals. I hadn’t looked at a single one, and knew I should start.

It was overwhelming to contemplate a beginning and middle to Violet’s story. I knew the ending all too well. Fifty three old people in an overheated funeral home, the women dabbing their eyes dramatically over the loss of one they’d considered a rival. Her nephew and his family shaking hands solemnly as we filed out after the brief service; Herb glancing at his watch. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find a Porsche brochure in his suit pocket.

I’d spent a lot of my childhood in Violet’s hometown of Anniston. I despised it, but it was the cradle of all that was dear to her. As soon as she found out I had a car and some Saturdays off, she asked me to drive her around and reminisce.

I’d rather have reminisced about my first root canal.

Violet looked at the few landmarks that remained from her youth and described a Frank Capra movie unfolding before her eyes. “Stop, Ronni! This is the house where Johnny lived. See that bright yellow ginkgo tree? Dr. Perkins planted it for his wife after seeing one in Georgia, at Emory Hospital. He adored that woman.” She sighed and shook her head. “Anyway, it was just a tiny twig and he forbade us to go near it. He even built a protective wire fence. I don’t remember the thing ever growing past two feet. Johnny accidentally hit the tree with a basketball once and nearly died of worry.” Her eyes were wide and teary. “Now it towers over everything.” She bit her lip. “I wonder if Johnny’s been back here. He would love seeing it.” The tree was magnificent, at least thirty feet tall and blazing yellow. “They only stay like this for a few days. The yard will be carpeted in golden leaves soon.”