“Tim,” Jenna called, “Tim. Over here.”
Tim looked up from examining the worn headstones, trying to see where his wife was.
“Over here,” Jenna said, waving.
“Okay,” he said, straightening up a little stiffly, “on my way.”
He joined his wife. She was sitting on the ground. He marveled how she still, so easily, could manage the lotus position.
“See,” she said, pointing. “Goldberg. The family plot is here." She pointed to a large, multi-headstoned plot.
“Anna's is here,” she continued.
“You're sure it's the right one,” he asked.
“Uh huh,” she said, “the dates are about right. They'd put her at nineteen when she knew Grandma Ruth.”
Tim eased himself to the ground beside Jenna.
“She died young,” he said, nodding at the headstone.
“She did,” Jenna said quietly. She turned to him. “Can you die of a broken heart,” she asked.
Tim remained quiet, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder.
“I didn't know anything about her till I found Ruth's journal,” Jenna said after a while. “She never told me. How come Allison knew so much?”
Tim smiled gently. “Well, she and Allison used to talk about a lot of things.”
Jenna looked at him. “Do you think Grandma knew about Allison?”
“She did?” Jenna asked.
Tim nodded. “Allison told me your grandmother was very proud of us,” he inclined his head, “of you, for accepting who Allison was and whom she loved.” He was silent for a moment. “It seems her own mother was not so understanding.”
Jenna was quiet for a moment. Then, "it was a different time. And if she hadn't married..."
Tim nodded again, squeezing her shoulder. "I, for one, am happy she did."
Jenna placed her hand on his. "Me too."
Tim looked at the headstones. "It looks like Anna had her own difficulties. She's buried apart from the main family. She also married."
Jenna looked, tears springing to her eyes. "I wonder if Grandma Ruth knew Anna had a daughter."
She laid her head on her husband's shoulder and pointed.
"Look Tim, she named her Ruth."