"Come on, Timmy. Don't be stopping there again. Old lady Simpson is creepy. Come to the park and play ball."

Timmy shook his head and waved off his friend. He liked spending time with Miss Simpson. She reminded him of his grandma, the way she told stories and sometimes nodded off-- falling asleep in the middle of a sentence. Sometimes Timmy had to wait days to hear how it all turned out, but he didn't mind. He knew Grandma was old and sick, but she still told great stories before...

Bella waved to Timmy, but held up a finger, pressing it to her lips, warning him to be quiet. Miss Simpson was sleeping in her wheelchair on the veranda, a blanket tucked in around her legs, like she might be cold. He didn't understand how anybody could be cold when the roses were blooming and the dandelions were turning into wishes, all feather-like.

Bella smiled and disappeared behind the screen door. Timmy knew she'd reappear with freshly-squeezed lemonade and a plate of cookies. He sat down on the bottom step and waited.

He watched Miss Simpson sleep, hoping she'd wake up and tell him more about the days when she was a little girl. She told him stories about the farm that were so real he thought he could smell freshly harvested hay. Not that he'd ever smelled hay before, but Miss Simpson had a way of telling the story to make him believe that he was right there at harvest time, riding on the combine. He jiggled her toe. She snorted and moved about on the chair, but drifted off just as Bella came back through the door with their snack.

"Doesn't she get enough sleep at night? Why is she sleeping so much lately?" Timmy asked as he accepted the glass of lemonade from Bella.

Bella settled in a wicker chair, picked up her knitting and glanced at Timmy over her bifocals. "How old are you now, young man?"

"Eight, Ma'am."

"Your granny died this last year, didn't she?" Timmy didn't answer. "When people get old, they sometimes sleep more, getting ready for their eternal rest."

"Is Miss Simpson going to die?" A big lump slid into his throat and the lemonade and cookies didn't look so appetizing any longer.

"Not yet, but soon, dear boy and you need to prepare for that. Your friend, Miss Simpson, may not live long enough to tell you all her stories."

"Timmy, son, listen to me," his father said over dinner. Timmy's mother noticed him moping when he got home from school. She'd pried the story out of him and held him when he sobbed, but his mood had not improved. "Maybe you should spend less time with those two spinsters and more time playing with your friends in the park."

But the next day, Miss Simpson was awake and she waved as Timmy approached. Immediately abandoning his classmate, he ran across the street and sat down on his usual bottom step. "Are you feeling okay, Miss Simpson?"

She smiled without answering his question and offered Timmy a roll of Lifesavers. "I'm afraid Bella has gone to the grocery store. I won't be able to offer you any cookies today."

"That's okay, but do you mind if I ask you a question?" Timmy looked up at Miss Simpson's eyes and thought again how much they reminded him of Grandma. Miss Simpson's eyes always smiled and he knew he could ask her anything. "Why did you and Bella never get married?"

"What makes you think we didn't get married?"

"Daddy says you're spinsters. And, I never see any kids, or grandchildren. Married people have kids."

The old woman chuckled, and smoothed out the crocheted blanket on her lap before answering. "Not all people are blessed with children. That's why Bella and I enjoy your visits so much. If we had a boy, we'd want him to be just like you."

Timmy beamed and helped himself to another Lifesaver, waiting patiently for Miss Simpson to continue her story where she left off, but then a frown crossed his brow as he thought about his question. "Why didn't you get married?"

"Oh Timmy," she sighed. "Bella and I both married. We've been married a very long time."

He was going to ask about her husband, but then Bella pulled up in a taxi with her groceries. By the time he helped carry the bags into the kitchen, it was time for him to get home.

School ended a week later, and during the summer break, Timmy didn't stop in to visit the two ladies very often. He went to camp for a week, then on a road trip with his family for their annual vacation. It wasn't until August that Timmy came back, armed with his own stories, ready to describe the Grand Canyon to his two friends.

The house looked lonely when Timmy walked up the steps and knocked on the door. The drapes were drawn and it looked as if no one was home. He was about to leave when the front door opened and Bella, wearing Miss Simpson's crocheted blanket over her shoulders, invited him into the house. "I've been expecting you."

Bella left Timmy in the living room as she went to the kitchen to prepare lemonade. In the corner, parked, was Miss Simpson's empty wheelchair. Even in Timmy's young mind, it looked functional, rubber and chrome, but no longer a place where he'd find his friend.

Bella returned and set the lemonade on the coffee table. "Is she with my Granny?" Timmy asked, fighting the sadness and tears that were trailing down his cheeks.

"Yes."

They sat in silence sipping the lemonade until Bella rose and pulled a photo album from the bookshelf. "Would you like to see pictures of the farm where Miss Simpson grew up?"

For the next hour Bella showed Timmy pictures and finished the story that began before his friend's death. Before he left, Bella came and sat beside him holding a velvet box. "She left something for you to remember us by." Inside was a gold heart-shaped locket. Bella placed it in Timmy's hand. "Open it," she said.

He struggled with the hinge, not sure how it worked, until Bella reached over and snapped open the pendant revealing two pictures, one on each side of the frame. Two beautiful young women posed, laughing, looking happy in the photographs. "Elizabeth is the one on the left. That's her name, Elizabeth Simpson, and that's me on the right."

Timmy stared at the pictures, confused, trying to imagine his friend, Miss Simpson, looking so young. Bella closed the locket then curled Timmy' fingers around his palm. "We gave each other lockets on the day we made our vows to each other. Look I'm still wearing mine." Bella slipped a locket out from under her blouse to show Timmy the twin to the one he was holding.

"Do you want to know what we promised each other?" Bella asked.

Timmy nodded his head.

"We promised we would love each other forever."

Bella reached over and hugged Timmy, patting his back as the sorrow shook his ribs and his tears washed her shoulders. "Elizabeth wanted you to know that she loved you too. She hoped that one day when you meet someone that you love that she might wear this locket and cherish you as much as we have. She wanted me to tell you that love is a happy thing. Living should be joyful; it doesn't have to hurt."

*****

Timmy didn't go back to the house again until school started in September.

"Guess you're not coming to the park to play baseball today either," his friend said as they walked home.

Timmy stopped for a moment in front of the house and looked at the 'For Sale' sign decorating the lawn.

"Sure I am. Let's go have some fun."