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"We didn't me

an to trespass," I said quickly. "We thought it was an unused driveway."

"Yes, it does look like we never use it. I told you, Norman. You should have Gerry get Billy Powers up here to fix that."

"Gerry says it'll cost an arm and a leg and you know how he feels about this place," the old man said. He turned to us. "My son don't want us living here anymore. He says it's too much upkeep-- especially for prime candidates for the rest home like us."

"Oh stop that, Norman Stevens," Nana chastised. "He never said nothing of the kind." Norman smiled at us.

"He don't have to say it. I know what he's thinking. He's my boy. I should know, eh? Well," he continued, "tell Nana your names. Go on."

She smiled at us with her hands folded against her stomach and waited. I wished I had asked Crystal if she thought we should use our real names, but there hadn't been time.

"I'm Brooke," I said and each of us introduced ourselves. When Butterfly spoke, Nana's eyes softened even more and a wider, deeper smile settled on her face.

"Oh look at her. She's so precious," she said. "Imagine, sleeping in your car. I want to know all about you girls and why you're sleeping in a car when I have all these bedrooms available," she added as if we had known her all our lives.

"I was thinking I'd make us all some hot chocolate," Norman said.

"You do that without dirtying up my kitchen, Norman Stevens," she told him with a kindly twinkle in her eyes.

"She's always after me," he said with a chuckle. "For nearly sixty years, too."

"You all come right in here," Nana indicated and led us into their living room.

Cluttered was the word that came immediately to mind, but not dirty or messy. Every table top, every shelf, every available space was covered with antiques, vases, picture frames or figurines. There were lots of brass and rich woods, soft cushioned chairs and two sofas, all worn but not ragged. Some vain attempts had been made to polish and redo the arms of chairs and the tables. On the right wall was a bookcase filled with what looked like first editions, leather and cloth bindings. I saw Crystal's eyes get magnetized immediately. She was sweeping the book spines, absorbing the titles and authors like some literary explorer who had just stumbled on a real discovery.

"Just find a place to sit anywhere," Nana urged. "It will take Norman a while to locate a pot and measure out six cups of hot chocolate. His eyes aren't what they used to be. Gerry doesn't want him driving anymore, but Norman's not one to admit to age or weakness of any kind. Never was."

"You've really been married sixty years?" Raven asked, lowering herself to a chair slowly. Nana sat in the rocking chair

"Sixty-two years this coming November fifth," she said proudly.

To Raven this was like meeting someone on the pages of Ripley's Believe It or Not. She stared, amazed.

"Seems like yesterday to me," Nana continued. "I can see him coming around to my parents' house down in Denton, his hat in hand, under his arm a small box of chocolates for my mother and a bottle of his mother's homemade blackberry brandy for my father. He had a bunch of baby yellow roses for me. Very expensive in those days. 'I come to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage,' he declared. You could tell he had been rehearsing the line all the way over. Daddy pondered just to make it seem like it was a whole new idea, when everyone who knew us and knew how long we had been courting expected it.

"Do you think you can make her a good life?' Daddy asked him. 'Yes sir, I do. It's a farmer's life,' Norman said, 'but it will be a good and honest one.' " She laughed. "We've been here ever since."

"You mean you've lived all these years in one house, in one place?" Raven asked.

"Why, yes honey. Norman wouldn't move off this property no matter what. He plans to die here and so do I, if the good Lord sees fit. That's why Gerry's just barking up the wrong tree with all his talk of rest homes and the like. He might as well howl at the moon. Now you girls tell me about yourselves," she said looking from Crystal to Butterfly and then me. "How do you come by sleeping in a car? Where are you from? Where are you going?"

I looked at Crystal. It was time for her to reach back into that imagination and provide some sort of cover story for all of us.

"We're good friends who attend an all girls' school back east," she began. "We hung out together because we're the poorer girls, all there on

scholarships. I invited everyone to my home for part of the summer vacation and we were heading there and trying to economize on the trip, so we came up with the idea of sleeping in the car to save on motel money. We thought it would be safe and it was fun, like camping out."

I sat amazed at the way Crystal could spin a tale. All those books she read really gave her a wild imagination.

"But won't your mommies and daddies be worried if you don't call them and let them know where you are?" Nana asked.

"Oh we did, just before we pulled in for the night. They know we're taking our time, seeing some sights," Crystal replied.

Nana shook her head and rocked.

"Ain't you kids something nowadays. When I was your age, I was afraid to go fifty miles by myself and here you are going all over the country.