In the early days of spring, little Emily, a bright-eyed girl of four, studied the “newcomer” who had recently appeared in their courtyard. He was a silver-haired pensioner, sitting on a bench with a walking stick in hand, leaning on it like a wizard from a fairy tale.
Emily couldnt resist asking, “Grandad, are you a magician?”
When he shook his head, her face fell slightly.
“Then why do you have a staff?” she pressed.
“It helps me walk, makes it easier to get about,” replied Edward Wilson, introducing himself.
“So youre very old, then?” the curious child prodded.
“By your measure, perhaps. By mine, not so much. My legs been bothering mebroke it not long ago. Took a bad tumble. So for now, Ive got my stick.”
Just then, Emilys grandmother stepped out, took her hand, and led her toward the park. Margaret Collins greeted their new neighbour with a polite nod, and he smiled in return. But it was Emily who formed the stronger bond with the sixty-two-year-old man. While waiting for her grandmother, she would slip outside early to share every little update with her elderly friendthe weather, what Margaret had cooked for lunch, or how her little playmate had been poorly the week before.
Edward always rewarded his young neighbour with a fine chocolate sweet. He couldnt help but notice that each time, Emily would thank him, unwrap it, take exactly half, then carefully fold the other half back into its wrapper and tuck it into her coat pocket.
“Why not eat it all? Didnt you like it?” Edward once asked.
“Its ever so nice,” she replied. “But I must save some for Gran.”
Touched, he brought two sweets the next time. Yet again, she took only half and stashed the rest away.
“Now who are you saving for?” Edward chuckled, amazed at the childs thriftiness.
“This bits for Mum and Dad. They could buy their own, but theyre ever so pleased when someone treats them,” Emily explained.
“Ah, I see. Youve a close-knit family, then. Youre a lucky girl, with a kind heart.”
“And Grans heart is kind too, because she loves everyone,” Emily began, but Margaret had already emerged from the building and taken her hand.
“Oh, Edward, thank you for the treats, but really, sweets arent good for Emilyor me, for that matter. You must forgive us.”
“Well, now Im at a loss. What *can* I give you?”
“Oh, weve plenty at home. Truly, nothings needed,” Margaret replied warmly.
“No, I wont have it. Id like to treat you. And Ill admitIm rather keen on fostering good neighbourly relations.”
“Very well, then. Well switch to nuts. And well only eat them at home, with clean hands. Agreed?” Margaret looked between Edward and Emily.
Both nodded, and soon, Margaret discovered walnuts or hazelnuts tucked in her granddaughters pockets.
“Oh, you little squirrel, hoarding nuts! You know these are dear these days, and Edward needs his medicinescant you see hes limping?”
“Hes not some old cripple! His legs mending,” Emily defended her friend. “He even says hell be back on skis by winter!”
“Skis?” Margaret raised a brow. “Well, good for him.”
“Gran, can I have skis too?” Emily pleaded. “Edward says hell teach me!”
In the park, Margaret soon noticed their neighbour walking briskly along the pathwithout his stick.
“Grandad, wait for me!” Emily would sprint to catch up, matching his stride.
“Hold on, thenwait for me too!” Margaret laughed, hurrying after them.
And so the three fell into step together. For Margaret, the walks became a pleasant routine; for Emily, a merry game. Her boundless energy saw her darting ahead, dancing on the path, clambering onto benchesonly to march back beside them, chanting, “Left-right, left-right! Heads up, steady pace!”
Afterward, Margaret and Edward would rest on the bench while Emily played with friendsthough she never left without a few nuts from Edward.
“You spoil her,” Margaret fretted. “Lets save this for special occasions, shall we?”
Edward confided in Margaret that hed been widowed five years prior. Only recently had he downsized from a three-bedroom flat to a modest one-bedder, freeing up space for his sons family.
“I like it here. Though Im not one for crowds, a man needs companyespecially next door.”
Two days later, a knock came at Edwards door. There stood Emily and Margaret with a plate of scones.
“Weve come to treat *you*,” Margaret said.
“Have you got a kettle?” Emily asked.
“Indeed I havewhat a delight!” Edward ushered them in.
Over tea, the room glowed with warmth. Emily marveled at Edwards bookshelf and collection of paintings, while Margaret watched fondly as he patiently explained each artwork.
“My own grandchildren are grownuniversity students now. I miss them,” Edward admitted. “But your grans still young!” He ruffled Emilys hair and handed her paper and pencils.
“Ive only been retired two yearsno time to mope,” Margaret said, nodding at Emily. “And my daughters expecting again. Were fortunate to live so closepractically all under one roof.”
All summer, the trio thrived. Come winter, true to her word, Margaret bought Emily skis, and they took to the groomed trails in the park.
Edward and Margaret grew so close they now walked only together. With Emily often at her grans, the three met dailyuntil Edward left to visit family in London.
Emily missed him terribly, pestering Margaret about his return.
“Hell be gone a month, pet. But well keep an eye on his flatthats what friends do.”
Margaret, too, had grown fond of Edwards thoughtful presence, his gifts, his cheer. Hed fixed her loose socket, replaced a burnt-out bulbsmall kindnesses she now missed.
After just a week, the bench felt empty without him.
On the eighth day, Margaret hurried outand there he was, seated as usual.
“Edward! We didnt expect you so soon!”
“Ah, Londons noise wore thin,” he said, waving a hand. “Everyones busy till evening. Id rather be hereI missed you both. Feels like youre family now.”
“Grandad, what did you give your grandchildren? Sweets?” Emily asked.
The adults laughed.
“No, love. Sweets arent good for them eithertheyre all grown. I gave them a bit of money instead. Let them put it toward their studies.”
“Im glad youre back,” Margaret smiled. “Feels right, having everyone home.”
Emily hugged Edward, melting his heart.
“Weve stacks of pancakes todayall sorts of fillings. Just as good as scones. Come for tea and tell us about London,” Margaret urged.
“Oh, Londons Londongrand as ever.” Edward took Margarets arm and Emilys hand. “But Ive brought giftswait till you see.”
As they headed inside, a light spring rain began to fall. The thaw had come early, unexpected.
“Whys it so warm today?” Edward wondered, glancing at Margaret.
“Because springs coming!” Emily declared. “Soon itll be Mothers Day, and Gran will set the table and invite guests. You too, Grandad!”
“Oh, how I adore you, my dear neighbours,” Edward murmured as they climbed the stairs.
After pancakes, he presented his gifts: a painted wooden nesting doll for Emily, a silver brooch for Margaret.
Back outside, they traced their usual route through the park. The snow had dulled, spongy with meltwater, revealing patches of path. Emily hopped between drying slabs, breathing in the mild air.
“Gran! Grandad! Catch me! Left-right, left-right! Heads up, steady pace!”
