In the week following Martha’s confiding in her about Freeman, Trina tried to drop hints to Timothy and Tanner about the fact she wouldn’t be with them very long. She agreed with Seth it might be painful for them when she left, so she wanted to prepare them for her eventual departure. On Wednesday afternoon, as she put them down for their naps, Timothy asked if she’d still be there when he woke up.
“Of course I will,” she told him, realizing she may have overdone it in warning them she wasn’t going to be with them permanently. “I’m not leaving until May. I’ll show you how many days that is on the calendar when you’re done napping.”
“Will you kumme to visit us after you leave?” Timothy asked.
“Well, Philadelphia is pretty far away.”
“That’s okay. Englischers can drive a car or fly in an airplane.” Tanner yawned before adding, “Daed said he doesn’t want you to sell your house.”
Trina’s ear perked up. “When did he say that?”
“At night when I was getting a drink. He told Groossmammi a weasel came to your house to ask you to put a concrete jungle in your backyard. Will there be monkeys in the jungle?”
Trina was mortified. “Neh, your daed was only teasing. After all, weasels can’t talk, can they?”
Tanner shook his head and Timothy asked, “Will there still be a jungle in our backyard?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said. “Although that doesn’t mean there won’t be two of my favorite little monkeys swinging from the trees.” She tickled each boy’s stomach and they laughed before rolling over and falling asleep.
Later, when Seth returned home, he didn’t even have time to remove his hat before Trina asked to speak with him on the porch. He looked surprised but he agreed. She was so insulted he thought she was the kind of person who’d allow her mother’s property to be exploited for the sake of selling alcohol that she didn’t waste time with any pleasantries.
“For your information, I’m not selling the property to anyone who wants to use it to build a liquor store!” she said, planting her hands on her hips.
Seth removed his hat and scratched his ear as if he hadn’t quite heard right. “I suppose Martha told you about our conversation?”
“Neh, the buwe did. But that hardly matters. What matters is that I’m not selling the house to a developer and if you have a question about something like that, you should ask me instead of spreading rumors. Especially within earshot of the kinner.”
Seth responded defensively, “Who are you to lecture me on what I should or shouldn’t do in front of my own buwe?”
Scowling, Trina countered, “Who do you think you are to spread false rumors about me?”
“I didn’t,” he said and his shoulders drooped. “At least, I didn’t intend to—I didn’t know the buwe were still awake. But I wasn’t spreading a rumor. Not exactly. I was discussing my concerns with Martha, who, by the way, adamantly informed me my fears were unfounded.”
Trina’s cheeks were still burning. “Jah, and I would have informed you of the same thing if you’d only asked me first.”
“I know that now.” Seth lowered his voice and compassionately explained, “My groossmammi also told me about...about your groossdaadi’s drinking problem and the effect that had on your mamm. I had no idea. That must have been so difficult for her.”
“Jah, it was,” Trina admitted, “which is why it’s so important I honor her memory by selling her childhood home to a family who will be happy together in it.”
Seth’s relief was evident. “I’m really glad to hear that’s your intention. And I’m sorry I didn’t consult with you first instead of jumping to conclusions.”
“It’s alright.” Trina hesitated before confessing, “Martha told me about your brother’s decision, too. I can see how that would influence your perspective on Englischers.”
“I try not to let it, but I’m afraid I’m not always successful.” It was too dark to see Seth’s eyes, but his voice was heavy. “So denki for bearing with me.”
Glad their argument was over, Trina jested, “Speaking of bears, you’re going to have two very disappointed boys on your hands. After hearing your comments about the realtor, they thought they were getting an actual jungle in their backyard.”
When Seth laughed, his straight, bright teeth shone in the dark. “Serves me right, I guess.”
Hesitantly, Trina said, “I wouldn’t think of telling you what to do with your buwe, but could I offer an observation?”
“Of course.”
“Kinner their age tend to take figurative language literally. Not only can it get their hopes up, but it can be scary for them, too. For example, the other morning I told Martha the buwe were so funny I almost laughed my head off. Timothy overheard and was terrified his antics were going to make my head roll off my shoulders.”
“Ah, point taken,” Seth said, again giving her a toothy smile.
Was he laughing at her or at the boys? “What’s that smile about?” she asked.
“Oh, I was just thinking you must be a wunderbaar teacher. Not only because of the way you teach Timothy and Tanner, but because of the way you just made your point with me, too.”
Trina’s insides felt wiggly. She loved being a teacher and she was glad it showed. “Denki. And since you mentioned careers, I’d like to say I could see from the detail you put into your leatherwork that you care very much about their quality.”
Seth adjusted his hat. “Denki. Did the buwe show you one of my harnesses in the stable?”
“Neh. I peeked into your shop window when I walked home from church the other day. I’d love to take a closer look when the shop is open, though.”
“Whoa. You walked all the way to Main Street from church and then home again?”
“Jah. I’m heartier than I look.”
Was she imagining it or did Seth just give her the once-over? “Some off Sunday when we’re not at church, I could pick you up and take you to my shop,” he suggested. “With the buwe and Martha, of course.”
Of course—Trina understood the rules of propriety. “I’d like that. And I’d also like it if you’d check out the rest of my house for mice. The one in the cupboard is gone but I heard something scratching last night. It might have been a branch against the walls but just in case...”
“I thought you said you were hearty,” Seth joked. “What harm is a little mouse going to do to you?”
Trina didn’t know if she should confide in him, but since he’d been so understanding about her mamm and about Abe’s alcoholism, she decided to risk it. “I know it’s a ridiculous fear. But when you’ve lived in the city, or when you’ve been poor, it’s not always mice you hear. Sometimes it’s...rats.” Even the word made her shudder, or maybe it was the fact she’d just confided to Seth that she and her mother had once been very poor. Suddenly self-conscious, she turned her head even though it was too dark for Seth to see her expression.
Seth cleared his throat. “I’d be happy to help rid your house of the little critters,” he said warmly. “And if I’m not successful, I know two little buwe who act like very convincing katze.”
They both laughed. Trina was glad what started out as an uncomfortable, intense conversation had ended so well and even gladder Seth had complimented her abilities as a teacher.
On Thursday evening after putting the boys to bed early, Seth visited Belinda Imhoff to discuss potentially courting a different woman. He would have waited to see Belinda after work on Saturday, but he had reserved that afternoon to more thoroughly mouse-proof Trina’s house. He was so relieved she didn’t intend to sell the property to a land developer that he would have done almost anything to get the house into better shape for a family to move into.
Belinda suggested matching him with Emma Lamp, who was from Willow Creek. Seth had never considered courting her previously because she was so young—perhaps only eighteen or nineteen. It seemed she would have had plenty of opportunities for courtships through attending singings or other social events with youth her own age. But he wanted to keep an open mind, especially since Belinda seemed disappointed he had already decided against Fannie. Belinda suggested he try meeting her a few more times, but Seth had a sure sense that Fannie and her daughters weren’t compatible with him and his family. More time wasn’t going to change his mind, and he had to make the most of the next several weeks while Trina was still there to watch the boys. So, he asked Belinda to arrange for him to take Emma to his home after church that Sunday.
Because there was a torrential downpour on Saturday afternoon, he didn’t allow the boys to accompany him to Trina’s house while he repaired the woodwork. He didn’t want them dirtying her floors as well as theirs, and Martha said she could handle them for an hour or so.
After pointing out where she’d heard the scratching sounds in the parlor, Trina retreated to the kitchen, and Seth examined the baseboards and flooring, which were definitely in need of repair. He wanted to fix them for her, as well as for any potential buyers. He was kneeling behind the sofa examining the baseboard when he heard Trina enter the room. Rising to face her, he knocked his shoulder against the end table and toppled its contents—a Bible and a framed photo—onto the floor. He managed to catch the Bible but the picture frame went crashing down and broke into several pieces that skittered across the floor.
Trina gasped. “Oh, neh!”
Seth clumsily stood up. “Ach, I’m sorry. I’ll clean that up,” he offered.
Trina dropped to her knees and picked up the broken frame, which appeared to be made out of fragments of glass. She rocked it in her arms and cried as if it were her baby that had fallen. He began collecting pieces of glass from the floor but she snapped, “Leave them alone—and leave me alone, too. I want you to go home.”
“What?” Seth didn’t understand why she was acting so devastated over a few pieces of glass. Even Timothy and Tanner wouldn’t have cried like that over a broken object.
Her lip was quivering as she raised her tear streaked face and repeated, “Please leave.”
“What about the cracks in the walls?”
“I don’t care about the stupid walls or this stupid house,” she wailed.
“That makes no sense,” he pointed out. “You’re bawling over something that’s already broken instead of prioritizing something that can still be fixed.”
Trina rose to her feet and held up the jagged frame. “This was important to me,” she cried. “It was the most important possession I owned.”
“But that’s just it, it’s only a possession. It’s not as if it’s a life that’s lost.” He didn’t know why, but that really set Trina to sobbing. He didn’t give in. “I don’t understand why the Englisch are so preoccupied with photos anyway. It’s narrish.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” she wept. “Amish men don’t have feelings. Or at least they don’t show them if they do. They’re heartless, absolutely heartless.”
Heartless? That was the most preposterous thing he’d ever heard. “Oh, we have feelings, alright. But only for things that matter. We’re not like the Englisch who care about their material possessions more than anything.”
“You have no idea what we care about,” Trina countered. “How could you? You’re too busy judging us to understand us.”
“And the Englisch are just plain too busy,” Seth retorted. “Everything is hurry, hurry, hurry, now, now, now. You’re pushy and impatient and overbearing.”
“Oh, denki very much for that. Is there anything else you want to say about the Englisch before you leave?” Trina sniped.
Seth knew the argument had gotten out of hand, but he really resented being called heartless. “Jah, the Englisch are so concerned with being thin they don’t care if they look sickly. I have healthier looking scarecrows in my garden.”
He knew he’d gone too far even before Trina’s expression wilted and she turned her back to him, but at that moment, he felt his remarks were justified. After all, she’d asked him what he thought of Englischers.
Hours later, he was still stoking the ashes of his anger, when Timothy asked, “Can we invite Trina to supper tomorrow night, Daed?”
“Neh,” he barked and Martha popped her head up from where she was crocheting on the sofa. She always said when you crocheted for as many years as she did, you didn’t need vision; you could do it in your sleep.
“Tomorrow Emma Lamp is visiting for supper,” he explained, as if that were the only reason he didn’t want Trina around.
“Emma Lamp?” Martha echoed. “Isn’t she a little young?”
“It’s not age that matters. It’s maturity,” Seth groused, thinking of Trina’s tantrum over a broken picture frame. He didn’t need a lecture from Martha but he knew one was coming when she sent the boys to the basement to ride their bikes.
“You’ve been moping all afternoon. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Neh,” Seth replied curtly.
“Well, tell me anyway,” Martha said, and as usual he gave in, explaining what had happened between him and Trina at her house.
“Can you believe it?” he asked. “I was there as a favor and she showed me no gratitude. It wasn’t as if I broke her frame on purpose. And I said I was sorry!”
“What was in the picture frame?”
“A picture, of course,” Seth sputtered in exasperation.
“A picture of what?”
“I don’t know. I think it was of Trina and her mamm.”
Martha nodded, but remained silent as the realization washed over Seth. He reluctantly conceded, “Alright, I suppose she valued the frame because of the photo.”
“I think she valued both the photo and the frame because of the memory they contained.”
Seth sighed heavily. He remembered, as irrational as it was, after Eleanor died he’d kept her prayer kapp hanging on the bedpost until the day he and the baby boys moved out of the house. It wasn’t the kapp he cherished; it was that the kapp reminded him of all the times his wife faithfully prayed for their family.
“I’m not heartless,” he muttered.
“Neh, you’re definitely not. And Trina knows that. But in the moment, you probably seemed that way to her.”
Seth went to bed that night feeling sadder than he’d felt in a long time. So much for loving his neighbor; he’d all but stomped on Trina’s memories and then called her a scarecrow. He’d have to find a way to apologize.
Trina lay in bed and imagined calling a cab and running away from Willow Creek in the middle of the night without telling anyone she was going. Her mother had done it with even less education and resources than Trina had, so why couldn’t she?
Her mother. The tears hadn’t stopped flowing since her photo frame shattered across the floor. It was as if her mother herself was warning her about Amish men. Ha! What a joke it was for Seth to caution his sons not to get too close to her—the reverse was actually true. Trina should have been more cautious about getting too close to Seth. She had come dangerously close to trusting him, the way her mother must have trusted Trina’s father at first.
“Your daed was the opposite of mine,” Patience told Trina once she was old enough to begin dating. “He was physically and emotionally demonstrative and I was starving for affection. But that wasn’t a good enough reason to marry him. When you date, Trina, don’t do it out of a sense of loneliness.”
Of course, Trina wasn’t dating Seth. Not even close. But if she was honest, she had to admit she had feelings for him that were more than just neighborly congeniality. And it was largely because she was lonely. How pathetic! she scolded herself. She would have left Willow Creek right then, but out of spite and the sheer willfulness to prove she could make it in that community she decided she’d stay. She wasn’t going to give up her inheritance—her mother’s home—just because of a couple of coldhearted men like Abe and Seth.
Plus, no matter that the boys were related to Seth, she couldn’t take off without at least saying goodbye to Timothy and Tanner. Nor could she leave Martha alone to care for them. Not yet. But the instant her sixty days were up, she was out of there. She wasn’t going to stick around until the house sold, either. She was feeling stronger now. She could get a teaching job again. She’d take out a loan until the sale went through so she could afford rent, or else she’d sell the house dirt cheap to the first buyer. But she wasn’t going to give up what was hers simply because a clumsy ox of a man thought she was materialistic and as scrawny as a scarecrow.
The next morning when she tried to button her skirt for church, she actually had to suck in her stomach to get it to close. It was true she’d lost a lot of weight and she supposed she did look scraggy to Seth, but she was making progress. She pulled on a dress, instead, and arranged her hair in a bun at the nape of her neck instead of her usual ponytail and set off for church.
The sermon was on God’s forgiveness and the pastor had hardly uttered three sentences before she realized she couldn’t carry her grudge against Seth. She had to forgive him but that didn’t mean everything would be the same between them again. She couldn’t risk letting her defenses down a second time.
“Hi, Trina,” someone said after the closing song, tapping her on the shoulder.
She turned to find Ethan giving her an enormous grin. “Hi, Ethan. It’s nice to see you.”
“You, too. I almost didn’t recognize you with your hair like that. Are you going somewhere special?”
“Neh,” she said and then repeated, “No. I’m not going anywhere special.”
“Good. Then you’ll let me give you a ride home?”
After confirming she didn’t have special plans, Trina had no choice but to accept Ethan’s offer. “Thank you. That would be nice,” she agreed.
On the way they chatted about what brought them to Willow Creek. “My grandparents were Mennonites, so I’ve always had an interest in Mennonite and Amish culture and beliefs,” Ethan explained. “I knew this is where I wanted to practice medicine. I mostly see patients in Willow Creek and one day a week I volunteer at the Highland Springs clinic for the Amish. How about you? Why did you relocate to Willow Creek?”
“I didn’t,” Trina said. “I mean, I’m only staying here for a couple of months because—oh, it’s a long story, but I have to live here for sixty days before I can inherit the house my mother grew up in. She was Amish. Anyway, once my time is up, I’m selling the house and moving back to Philly.”
“I just left Philly!” Ethan exclaimed. “That’s where my fiancée lives. She’ll be joining me after our wedding in June. It’s a great city, but I prefer the country life here, don’t you?”
“I’m becoming accustomed to it,” Trina admitted, relieved to hear Ethan was engaged. So, his interest in her was merely because she was a new resident like he was, and nothing more. “I especially enjoy walking by the creek, knowing it’s where my mother once walked.”
“Can you believe I’ve been in Willow Creek for over two months and I still haven’t seen the creek the town is named after?”
Trina impulsively suggested, “Oh, you’ll have to take a look, then. It runs behind the property near my house.”
As they were strolling by the banks of the creek a few minutes later, Trina heard a sound. “I recognize those voices,” she said.
“Voices? I only heard something growl.”
Trina laughed. “It’s the two boys I care for during the day. They like to pretend they’re animals. If I’m not mistaken, they’re being bears again.”
Just then, Tanner and Timothy pounced out at Trina and Ethan from behind a rock. “Rrroar!” they thundered.
“Look, it’s a pair of grizzlies!” Ethan declared good-naturedly.
“Guder nammidaag, buwe,” Trina greeted them. “Stand up on your hind legs now. I want to introduce you to my friend, Ethan Gray. He’s a doctor, so you might go to his office one day when you’re sick and he’ll make you feel better.”
“Animals don’t go to doctors. They go to vegetarians,” Timothy said wisely, cracking Ethan up. After they told Ethan their names, Trina asked them if they were walking with Martha.
“Neh. We’re with Daed and Emma,” Timothy answered.
Trina’s stomach did a flip and she suddenly felt dejected. But after what she’d learned yesterday about Seth’s feelings—or lack of feelings—toward her, why should she care if she bumped into him and some new woman he was apparently courting?
“Timothy, Tanner!” Seth’s voice cut through the crisp air. “Where are you?”
“We’re here with Trina,” Tanner bellowed back.
“What have I told you about staying within my sight near the creek?” Seth asked the boys before greeting Trina or Ethan. “If you wander off again, we’ll have to march right back to the house and you won’t be able to return for an entire week.”
“Sorry, Daed.” The boys hung their heads.
“Oh, look, it’s Dr. Gray,” a young woman said when she caught up with Seth. She had light blond hair and a sturdy, feminine shape. Her skin was so pink and her face so full it looked like she literally had apples in her cheeks. No doubt she was just the kind of healthy, patient, sensible woman Seth was looking for.
“Emma...Lamp, isn’t it?” Ethan asked.
“Jah. What a gut memory.” Emma even had dimples when she smiled. She was the picture of Amish benevolence. “Seth Helmuth, have you met Dr. Gray? He took care of my brother when he came down with a nasty flu.”
“Please, call me Ethan.” The doctor smiled. Trina noticed Ethan didn’t extend his hand to shake; apparently, he knew the customs already. To Emma he said, “How is Thomas doing?”
“He’s better than ever before. Tormenting our sisters and chasing them around the barn.”
“Glad to hear it. I assume you know Trina Smith?” Ethan asked, gesturing toward her.
“Only by reputation,” Emma said, smiling. “The moment I walked through the door, the buwe showed me games you taught them. They’re very fond of you.”
Oh, no. Emma was nice as well as sweet and pretty. “I’m fond of them, too,” Trina said. She could hardly look in Seth’s direction, lest she see his fondness for Emma in his eyes. Or worse, his disdain for Trina.
“Looks like we’re going in opposite directions, so we’ll keep walking,” Seth said. “Now, where did those two scamper off to?”
“I believe they’re in the den to our right, up ahead,” Emma said, motioning toward a large rock the boys had covered with sticks and fern. Trina had to give it to her, she was playing along with their games well. As if reading Trina’s thoughts, Emma winked at her and said, “I’ve got a brother and two little sisters around their age at home.”
Wow, she must have been really young herself to have siblings that age! Trina felt glum all the way back to the house so she was happy when Ethan accepted her invitation for tea and dessert. At least he seemed to like her. Granted, he appeared to like her the way a big brother would, which made her feel embarrassed she’d ever suspected him of being interested in dating her.
“I don’t know, Trina,” he said slowly before leaving. “Willow Creek is awfully beautiful. Are you sure you want to leave it behind for Philly?”
“I’m sure,” she said.
On the way home from dropping off Emma, Seth felt sick to his stomach and his palms were sweaty. It wasn’t nervousness. Not about Emma, anyway. No, it was easy to be around her. She was pleasant, lighthearted and she got along well with the boys. But she was also young. Too young. It wasn’t that she was immature, exactly, but in a way her youthful innocence made Seth feel as if he had another child in his care. Halfway through the afternoon he decided to tell Belinda Imhoff he’d made a mistake and he’d give a courtship with Fannie Jantzi one more try.
But for now, he had to apologize to Trina and it was unnerving him like nothing ever had before. Bumping into her in the woods had been uncomfortable and he wished he hadn’t seen her with Ethan. An Englisch pediatrician. Who could be better for Trina? Together they’d make the perfect couple, with her teaching children and him healing them. Seth should have been happy that she’d found a friend in Willow Creek. A boyfriend, even—someone who might be a good match. But he wasn’t happy. And the fact he wasn’t happy was unsettling. Furthermore, he was doubly upset because he had to apologize to her and he didn’t know if she’d accept his apology.
She’d hardly glanced his way in the woods, although for his part he’d noticed she wore her hair in a neat bun. With her face framed by its softness, her cheekbones looked less severe and her eyes stood out even more. Seth shook his head. How could he have been so boorish as to imply she looked like a scarecrow? He’d never found any Englischer so attractive before. Not simply because of her eyes and height and the way she carried herself, but because of the way her character manifested itself through her physical traits. It pained him to think she thought of him as heartless.
He took extra care stabling his horse, procrastinating before he crossed the yard to Trina’s house. Instead of inviting him in when he asked to speak to her, she stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her. She wasn’t wearing a coat; he’d have to make this quick.
“I’ve kumme to apologize. I’m truly sorry for breaking your picture frame,” he began. “But I’m even sorrier for hurting you. I shouldn’t have implied you’re overly concerned with possessions. Later, when I thought things over, I realized I just said that because I...I was trying to do something helpful for you and instead I broke your frame. I felt like such a klutz that I somehow turned things around and tried to pin the blame on you for valuing a possession instead of acknowledging I’d ruined something that was special to you.”
Trina didn’t say anything until she’d walked past him and stood by the railing of the porch, gazing at the sky. “I don’t own many material things, but the picture frame was a gift from my mamm.”
Seth was quiet, sensing he needed to give her time to say her piece before she forgave him.
“She gave it to me the Christmas before she became ill. She’d bought it at the Cape—Cape Cod, in Massachusetts. I don’t know how she could have afforded it, but—” Trina choked and a sob escaped her lips.
Seth walked to her, removed his coat and draped it around her shoulders. “What is one of your favorite memories of being at Cape Cod with your mother?” he asked.
Trina sniffed and gestured out toward the lawn, as if remembering the ocean. “We loved to get up early in the morning and go to the beach before anyone else arrived. There were these little tiny birds called sandpipers that ran along the edge of the surf. They were so quick they made us laugh.” Trina wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and added wryly, “You wouldn’t like them, they looked like they were in a hurry.”
Seth chortled. “I’m sorry for saying that, too. I know not all Englischers are in a hurry.”
“Most of them are. I don’t disagree with you on that,” Trina said. “But I’m not.”
“And I’m not heartless,” Seth said, quietly but firmly. “But I understand that your groossdaadi acted that way to your mamm.”
“Oh, Seth!” Trina exclaimed, angling sideways to look at him again. “I’m so sorry I said that. You have a bigger heart than any man I know. The amount of love and care you show for Timothy and Tanner—and for Martha, too—well, I’ve never seen a man demonstrate anything like it.”
From the way his heart was battering his ribs, Seth was sure Trina could hear it. He replied, “And I’m sorry for implying you look like a scarecrow.”
“Well, I have lost a lot of weight this past year and those seh of yours can make me look pretty disheveled by the end of the day.”
Neh. You’re the best sight I see at the end of my day, Seth thought. It was a bold sentiment and he was in a dangerous position to think such a thing, much less to say it. He didn’t, of course, but neither did he stop looking at her. There was something about her lips that made them seem as irresistible as the taste of funny cake. Yet he had to resist. She was an Englischer, like Freeman’s wife. In a throaty voice he said, “Jah, my sons can have that effect on a person. But you don’t look disheveled now. I like your hair like that.”
“Denki.” Trina lifted her hand to the nape of her neck and turned back toward the lawn in one graceful motion. She paused before playfully referencing her angry remark from the previous day, “Anyway, if you’re willing, I’d still like you to fix my stupid walls.”
“Jah, I’m still willing to fix the stupid walls in your stupid house,” he said and they both laughed.
But he wasn’t laughing later that night in bed. He was agonizing over how much he had longed to kiss an Englischer. It was forbidden by the Ordnung, but even if it weren’t, it was forbidden by him, personally. His family had already paid dearly for allowing one Englischer into their lives, and Kristine had claimed she was going to become Amish. Trina made no such promise; on the contrary, she was leaving in a matter of weeks.
If only Seth had been ashamed and regretful that he wanted to kiss her, he could confess and be done with it. But the sorry truth was, he may have been ashamed of it, but he still wished to kiss Trina.
That’s lecherich, he thought. I’d never do such a thing. Never!
Besides, for all he could guess, Trina was interested in Ethan. Seth knew the best way to rid his mind of fanciful thoughts about her was to keep squarely focused on courting an Amish woman, and before falling asleep he decided he’d definitely invite Fannie and her daughters to the house for supper at the first opportunity.