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life.
    Maureen blinked her eyes as if waking from a trance. She hurried downstairs and quickly washedand dried the breakfast dishes and utensils.
    She had just finished when she heard a knock on the door. She hurried to the front of the house, opened the door, and Esther Davis came in.
    Maureen looked at her. “You’ve been crying,” she said flatly.
    Esther nodded, and tears gushed from her eyes.
    Of all the people Maureen had ever known, Esther was the only one who had always been kind to her. Maureen had been surprised to get a letter from Cambridge, Massachusetts.
    Dear Maureen,
    I know you are not what everyone is saying you are. You must be feeling very alone because no one understands. You are not alone, because I understand.
    Your Friend,
Esther Davis
    And so began a relationship through letters, letters that had gone back and forth from Davis to Cambridge, from Cambridge to Davis. When Esthermoved back, the letters continued. Both women found that words flowed more freely from the nibs of pens than their tongues, though they were together on their weekly trips to the library in Shireville.
    On this late morning the two women sit around the table in Maureen’s kitchen. Each knows the other’s most dreadful secrets; each knows the other’s most poignant hopes. In their letters they have exchanged words limned with soul, words they could have never said face-to-face.
    But on this day they sit across from each other. It is time. Esther stares down at the table; Maureen’s eyes are fixed blankly on something behind Esther.
    â€œI take it things didn’t go well,” Maureen says finally in her toneless voice.
    Esther shakes her head slowly. “I don’t know. I think I may have frightened them, especially Ansel.”
    â€œWhat did he say?”
    â€œNot much. I think Willie is more of a dreamer than Ansel is. But Willie knows in the very marrow of his bones that there is no future here for him. Ansel can’t see farther than someday taking over the store.”
    Maureen does not say anything for a while. Shehad hoped this son of hers would not be the coward she is. From the moment she first felt him moving in her womb, she had been determined he would escape Davis. Perhaps he would get no further than a different loneliness in another place. That had to be better than the suffocating loneliness of Davis.
    â€œAre you going to leave, anyway?” Maureen asks Esther.
    Esther nods. “In September. I have to.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œI feel guilty leaving you behind, leaving Amanda and Willie. I want to give them money enough so that they can go anywhere they want and get a new start. But Amanda says Big Willie will never leave here. This is the only place he has ever called home.”
    â€œI know how he feels. As much as I hate this place, I think I would hate being a stranger more.”
    â€œYou’re only a stranger the first day you’re in a new place. The second day you already know more about the place than you did the day before.”
    Maureen smiles. “You would have made a good lawyer.”
    â€œThen I would have had to put my whole family in prison because I have never known a bigger bunch ofcrooks. Yet, I have a life of leisure, a life free of financial worry because of how much of a crook my grandfather and father were. I hate how they made their money, and yet, I am glad for the freedom it gives me.”
    Nothing more is said about Ansel.
    When Esther leaves, Maureen knows she has only until September, which is not much time at all.
    Inside her she senses a kernel of resolve forming. Though small, it gives her life a focus, a meaning, and as the corners of her mouth turn up, she feels a sparkle of light in her eyes.
    5.
    Late on the afternoon of the same day, Ansel and Willie are sitting behind the store. Each has a bottle of soda from which he drinks slowly, savoring its coldness against the heat of the day.
    Finally Ansel