Just as Timothy had come to the old diner every afternoon with his brother, Katie and Henry came to Freddy's every day. And every day she would play with the brother who was invisible to all but her. Henry and the parents of partying children smiled when they saw her talking to her imaginary friend. None of them noticed that her conversations seemed a little too real, her games a little too complicated, almost as if she actually did have a companion to share her fun with.
Katie herself didn't suspect that her friend was any more than a figment of her imagination until almost a year after she had met Timothy. All the other children her age were giving up their pretend worlds in exchange for real friends, and Katie wondered why hers hadn't disappeared as well.
"Timmy?" she asked one day, "Timmy, am I weird because I talk to you?"
"Why would you think that?" he inquired.
"Other kids think I'm weird because I still have an imaginary friend. Henry and Mommy and Daddy say that I'm just going through a stage and I'll stop seeing you soon. But I don't want to stop seeing you and Nate."
"You're not going to stop seeing us," Timothy assured her. She smiled in relief. Nathaniel turned away. He knew that Henry and Katie's parents were only saying that she'd stop seeing them soon because they thought that he and Timothy were just imaginary friends that would be given up along with the rest of Katie's childish fantasies, but a part of him was afraid. What if Katie really did stop seeing them? He didn't think that he could stand it if he could see and hear the girl but she was blind to his existence like everybody else. He knew that that would shatter the happiness that Timothy had wanted so badly to have.
"Timmy, can I tell you something?" the little girl asked nervously.
"Of course, Katie! What's wrong?" asked her brother.
"Timmy," she but her lip, "Timmy, I think that I always sort of knew that Vixie wasn't actually a real princess. I sort of knew that before Henry told me. But Timmy, I think you and Nate are real. I love you, but I'm scared. If you're real, then why can't Henry or Mommy or Daddy see you?"
It was Timothy's turn to be nervous. He couldn't lie to his dear sister, but he couldn't really tell her the violent truth, either. Nathaniel was at a loss for words as well. Luckily for them, they were saved from having to answer by Henry walking over to the trio. "Come on, Katie. It's time to go."
"Ok, Henry. Goodbye," she waved to the two ghosts.
Henry gave a tired smile. "Don't you think you're getting a little too old for imaginary friends?" he asked.
Katie frowned at him. "They're not imaginary," she defended her invisible friends. Henry gave her a condescending smile and took her arm. She shook him off. "No!" she shouted, "They're real! They're real and their names are Nathaniel and Timothy and they're standing right there! I can see them, so why can't you?!" she cried.
Henry paled when she said the name of his dead brother. He made no move to take her hand again. The young man stared ahead. He was looking directly at Timothy, almost as if he was trying to see him. "Henry. I'm right here," whispered his brother. The little boy timidly started to reach one hand towards the young man. Henry's hand moved a little at his side, as if he was debating whether to try to touch the person he could not see.
Henry shook his head, clearing away any childish thoughts. "Come on, Katie. It's time to go," he said, pulling his whining sister out the door. He didn't wipe away the tear that sparkled on his cheek.
The first thing that Katie did after Henry left her alone the next day was confront Nathaniel and Timothy. "You're really ghosts, right? You aren't just imaginary," the little girl whispered, flinching slightly.
Timothy stared at the ground. Nathaniel gave a sad smile. "I guess you had to find out someday."
Her theory confirmed, Katie's shoulders slumped. "Oh." She bit her lip, not sure of what to say. "I'm sorry. I asked Mommy and Daddy if Henry knew anybody named Timothy or Nathaniel and they told me that I should have had two older brothers instead of one. They didn't know you, Nate, and they told me that they'd tell me what happened to you, Timmy, when I'm older. But I didn't tell them that I could see you."
"It's better if you don't," answered Nathaniel. He didn't know how much they would be grieving after five years, but it would be better to not open up old wounds and talk about a person they couldn't see or interact with in any way.
The little girl shifted from one foot to the other. "Ok, Nate."