Hannah's Courtship

Chapter Two

All I need now is for Bishop Atlee to drive past and see me walking down the road after midnight in my bathrobe and house slippers—accompanied by two men, Hannah thought wryly.

She supposed the wisest thing would have been for her to go back to the house and get dressed, but that would have taken more of Albert’s time, and the Yoder family had already put him out a great deal tonight. Her oversize wool scarf and dark blue, ankle-length bathrobe covered more of her than her everyday dresses. She might not be conventionally garbed for an Amish woman, but no one could say she wasn’t decently covered.

She was sure that Albert, a Mennonite born-and-bred, with more than the usual allotment of sense for a man, would understand her stretching the rules of proper dress due to the emergency. After all, wasn’t Albert practically a member of the family? His nephew, John, was married to her daughter Grace.

Albert had been a friend and veterinarian to the Seven Poplars Amish community for many years, and as long as Hannah had known him, he’d always treated her with the greatest respect. To put a fine point on it, Albert treated her as an equal, as a person with a brain in her head. She was certain that Albert wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen with her under these circumstances.

It was a short walk from her mailbox to the driveway of the Kings’ farmhouse. Only one motor vehicle passed them, a small car, not the tow truck that Albert had called to bring the disabled buggy home. She and Albert kept their pace slow enough for David, who was often distracted and had to be reminded to stay on the shoulder. David never did anything quickly, and any attempt to hurry him would have triggered upset and possibly tears. Hannah had no wish to deliver him to his parents in an emotional dither.

Hannah liked David, and she liked his mother and father. They’d done a good job raising him, and she was sure that he’d never given them reason to think he’d sneak out with a girl to go to Dover. Tonight would be an awakening for the Kings as much as it was for her. David and Susanna, who had always been obedient, had suddenly become problem children.

Fifteen minutes later, Hannah and Albert were back at the spot where Hannah’s driveway met the road. David was safely in the care of his parents, and everyone had agreed that nothing good would come from trying to hash this mess out tonight. Albert had insisted on walking Hannah home, although that had felt silly. She was a woman in her late forties, a schoolteacher and a mother who’d been managing her farm and her affairs for years. She was certainly capable of following her own lane back to her home without an escort.

“Call me old-fashioned,” Albert said, trudging along beside her. He hadn’t been put out by her objection. If anything, he sounded amused. “I just wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t see you safely to your door.” When she didn’t answer, he went on. “It’s not the same world we grew up in, Hannah. You read the papers. All kinds of craziness going on.”

“I try to stay away from the world as much as possible,” she replied. It was what her Amish faith taught. Be not of this world. The Amish were a people apart, living not so much for today as for their future in heaven.

Albert was a member of the Mennonite Church, another Anabaptist sect that shared a long history with the Amish. The two faiths had separated before they came to America in the eighteenth century. The Amish believed that the Mennonites were too worldly, and Amish founders felt it necessary to remain separate. Today, the Mennonites did charity work with the general public and spread their religion through worldwide missions. The Amish kept to themselves and did not evangelize.

Hannah herself had been born and raised in the more liberal Mennonite faith, but she’d become Amish when she married Jonas Yoder. Although it had cost her dearly, she’d never regretted her decision.

“Wickedness,” Albert continued. “Riots, bombings. People using violence against their neighbors.”

“I hardly think there’s going to be a riot in my farmyard tonight,” she teased. “My sister-in-law Martha isn’t all that fond of me, but I doubt even she wants to harm me. And my other neighbors are my daughters, my sons-in-law and my grandchildren, so I feel pretty safe.”

“You hear stuff on the news every day. I can’t help but worry.”

“Maybe you should stop listening to the radio and watching television.”

“Evil happens.”

“Ya,” she conceded. “It does. The best we can do is to live according to our conscience, treat one another as the Bible teaches us and pray that God will see to the rest.”

“I suppose.” Albert was a middling-size man, broad shouldered, with a sturdy body, chestnut-brown hair and a pleasant face. Usually, he walked with a vigorous stride, making him seem younger than his fifty-odd years, but since his father’s death two months ago, Albert had lost the spring in his step.

Hannah and most of the Amish community had attended the funeral, and everyone had noted how hard Albert had taken the elderly man’s passing. It was natural, she supposed. Albert had never married, and he and his father had lived together ever since Albert had joined the veterinary practice. Maybe Albert was lonely, Hannah thought. John had moved out when he finished building his new house, and now Albert lived alone. His days were full of work, but maybe he missed having someone at the supper table to swap stories with.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t worried about Susanna,” he said. “I know better. You’re a woman who’s always put her children first. I’ve always admired that about you, Hannah, that you are such a great mother. And the way your girls turned out proves that you did most things right.”

Hannah’s throat tightened and she concentrated on the beam of light on the ground in front of them. Rebecca’s flashlight was a good one, and it was easy to follow the hard-packed gravel drive. For the first time, she felt a little uncomfortable around Albert. She wasn’t used to discussing private matters with outsiders. Although he’d proven himself to be a good friend to both her and her late husband, this subject was awkward. “I do worry about Susanna’s future, naturally,” she admitted stiffly. “But I have to trust in God’s plan for her.”

“You think He has a plan for each of us?”

“Of course.” She was so surprised that she stopped walking and stared at him. “Don’t you?” She knew that Albert was a faithful member of his church, and she’d assumed that he felt the same way.

“Sometimes I think so. But sometimes...”

She heard him exhale slowly.

“Sometimes I wonder if God spoke to me but I didn’t listen... If I’ve waited too late to do what I should have done years ago.”

She pressed her hand against her midsection to keep from touching him. Albert was obviously distressed. Had he been one of her children or sons-in-law, she would have reached out to him to touch his shoulder or take his hand, but they were alone. It wasn’t proper that she have physical contact with a man not related to her. “In what way?” she asked. “How do you feel that you failed?”

He went on, not directly answering her question. “Getting through college was hard for me. I didn’t want to borrow money, so I worked two jobs and attended classes full-time. I never had time for dating. And, then when I got into vet school, it was a struggle for me to keep up my grades.”

“And after you graduated? Did you think of marriage then?” Standing outside the circle cast by the flashlight, Albert was a dark, indefinite figure. Hannah knew that she was intruding on his privacy, but out of compassion, she persisted.

“I tried to make up for lost time. I went out with different women, but I was too focused on my veterinary practice. I just wasn’t ready to settle down.”

“And now you regret not marrying and having children?”

“I think when a man hits fifty, he begins to realize that this is it. His life is more than half over. I’ve always loved taking care of animals, but there’s something missing in my life.”

“Have you talked to your preacher about this? Or to John?”

“No.”

She and Jonas had wondered why a good man like Albert had never married. Among the Amish, a man or woman remaining single was almost unheard of. She remembered that some time back, before Jonas had died, Albert had kept company with a lady dentist in Dover. The couple had often gone to fund-raiser breakfasts and school auctions together. But, then, Jonas had come home one day and said that the Englisher dentist had married. Not Albert Hartman, but a lawyer.

Not knowing what to say, Hannah walked on a short distance until she came to the edge of the farmyard. “We’re here,” she said, “and it looks pretty quiet. No rioters.” She smiled at him. “I really appreciate what you’ve done for me—for Susanna—tonight.”

He stood there a moment. “I suppose I should get back to the buggy. The tow truck will be there, and the driver might need help loading it.” He glanced toward the house. “You can lock up. I’ll see that he delivers the buggy. No need for you to wait up.”

Hannah found herself yawning. She nodded. Tomorrow was a school day, and she’d have to be up early. Before she left, she’d have to confront Susanna, and she wasn’t looking forward to that. “Thanks, again, Albert. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t helped.”

“Don’t say another word. Like I said, Hannah, I’m just happy that I came along when I did.”

Leaving Albert by the gate, she went into the house. Rebecca and Susanna had already gone up to bed. She returned to her bedroom, removed her robe and slippers, and knelt in prayer. If there was ever a night that she needed to give thanks to God, this was it.

* * *

Because it was overcast and threatening to rain when she left home in the morning, Hannah didn’t take the shortcut across the pasture to the Seven Poplars School as she usually did. Instead, she hitched up Blackie and drove the family buggy. Teaching twenty-six children in eight grades in one room wasn’t easy, but she’d been doing it for five years.

When Jonas had suddenly died of a heart attack, she had not wanted to have to rent out her farmland or sell off any acreage. She’d known that a woman with six girls and no menfolk couldn’t make enough off the crops to survive, so she’d convinced Bishop Atlee and the church elders to allow her to take the open schoolteacher’s job.

Teachers were usually young single women, but Atlee had thought highly of Jonas, and he’d agreed. Hannah had been thankful to be given the opportunity, and she’d always believed that Atlee Bontrager’s decision had been influenced, at least in part, by his fondness and admiration for Jonas.

The school had been a good fit for Hannah. She loved the challenge of teaching, and she loved the children. An added bonus was that being so close to home meant that she could keep a close eye on her own family while working. The pay in the church school wasn’t much, but it was enough to provide independence for Hannah and her daughters. Having a steady income was the reason that she’d gone against custom and had remained unmarried after the usual period of mourning had passed.

The day turned out to be an unusually hectic one. She sent Joey Beachy home at noon when he’d thrown up on the playground. She’d asked Irwin, who was Joey’s cousin, to walk the child back to the Beachy farm. Naturally, Joey had walked to school that morning, but it had been with his brothers and sisters, and Hannah hadn’t felt right sending him home alone. Irwin was delighted. Hannah doubted that she’d see him again until suppertime. Her foster son didn’t like school, and ensuring that he received a standard education had been her cross to bear.

She gave a math test to her combined fifth and sixth-graders, and directed rehearsals for the program done every year for parents and friends. Naturally, none of the boys had memorized their parts, and the walk-through for the skit had ended in tears when two sisters each wanted the same role. Hannah was glad that it was a busy day, because it gave her less time to worry about what she would say to David King’s parents.

As soon as the last child had departed at the end of the school day, Hannah drove directly to the King house. Though she still had to contend with a tearful Susanna at home again, it seemed wisest to first discuss the incident with David’s mother, Sadie. That way, the two mothers could present a united front. Something had to be done. David and Susanna couldn’t go on pretending that they were walking out together.

All the way there, Hannah hoped that Ebben, David’s father, would be out of the house. This was women’s business, and having Ebben be part of the conversation would make it more awkward for her. Sadie was a good, loving mother and a fine friend. Surely, she and Sadie could put an end to this behavior without harming either of their children.

“Come in, come in.” Sadie must have been watching for her because the stocky little woman came out the side door as soon as Hannah drove up the lane. “Ebben!” Sadie called. “Take Hannah’s horse.” And then to Hannah, “Let Ebben see to him. You come in and have some of the applesauce cake I just took out of the oven.”

Sadie’s kitchen was smaller than her own, but just as clean. Simple white linen tiebacks hung at the windows, and pale yellow walls brightened the room. A round oak table with four chairs stood in the center of the room. Overhead hung a white kerosene lamp decorated with faded red roses, lit now against the gray afternoon.

“Tea?” Sadie asked. “Or coffee?”

“Coffee, if it’s no trouble,” Hannah responded.

Sadie bustled around, reminding Hannah of a banty hen in her gray dress, black stockings and white kapp and apron. Sadie’s clothing still reflected the Amish community that they’d lived in before they’d moved to Delaware. Her kapp was sewn slightly different, her skirt and apron were longer and she wore high-topped black leather shoes, rather than the black canvas sneakers most women in Seven Poplars wore in the summer.

Sadie poured the coffee and brought a tiny pottery cream pitcher and matching sugar bowl to the table. She sliced generous pieces of applesauce cake and placed them beside the coffee mugs. “Honey or sugar?” she asked. “I like raw sugar, but Ebben and David do love that honey your Johanna brought us at Christmas.”

Hannah was eager to see what David’s parents thought about the previous night’s misbehavior. Still, it would have been rude to jump right into the subject. First, news of children’s and grandchildren’s health and activities had to be exchanged, and Hannah had to tell Sadie about the plans for the school picnic. Sadie asked what Hannah was bringing for the shared meal after morning church service on Sunday, and when Hannah said potato salad with peas, Sadie wanted the recipe.

Hannah forced herself to at least appear relaxed, but she couldn’t help glancing around. Ebben remained outside, and there was no sign of David. “David’s outside with the chickens,” Sadie said as she refilled Hannah’s coffee cup. “Would you like another piece of cake?” Hannah shook her head. “David loves chickens,” Sadie continued. “Ebben says he can coax two eggs a day out of those hens. David’s a good boy.”

Hannah nodded. “I know he is.”

Sadie’s right hand trembled as she reached for the sugar. She clenched her fingers into a fist and buried it in the folds of her starched apron. “He’s a sweet boy, Hannah, a really gentle soul.”

Hannah murmured in agreement. “So is my Susanna.”

Sadie knotted her fingers together. Her faded blue eyes grew misty with tears. “When David was born, the midwife told me that he was a Mongoloid.”

Hannah winced. The term was wrong. Ugly. “Downs,” she corrected softly. “With Down syndrome. Like my Susanna.”

“She wasn’t Amish. The midwife. ‘He might not live,’ she said. ‘A lot of times babies like him have a bad heart. It might be a blessing if he did—’ My Ebben, he’s quiet, like David. But he got so mad at that woman. ‘Don’t you say that!’ he said. ‘Don’t you say such things about our beautiful son.’ And he was beautiful, Hannah. He had this mop of yellow hair, as yellow as May butter, big blue eyes and the sweetest look on his face.”

“My husband always said that Susanna was a blessing from God.”

Sadie nodded eagerly. “Ebben asked that midwife to leave and not come back. We took David to a baby doctor at a big hospital. He told us that David would grow and learn like any other child. But he never said what a good boy David would be. He’s never been willful.” She hesitated. “It’s why we never thought that David would ever...”

“Sneak out at night?”

“Our older son, now that one. When he was Rumspringa—he was a caution. Sowing his wild oats, Ebben always said. And if David wasn’t...didn’t have Downs, we would have expected him to...”

“But he does. They do.” Hannah swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “We’ve always protected Susanna, kept her close. She’s afraid of the dark. Running off to buy pizza...” Hannah exhaled softly. “I don’t know what to do. They just have this idea that—”

“That they’re courting,” Sadie finished. “I know. I know it’s crazy, but David is very fond of your Susanna. He talks about her all the time.”

“They could have been killed in that buggy accident.”

“I know. I couldn’t get a wink of sleep last night. David’s driven in the field and in the yard, but never a horse on the road. He doesn’t understand the danger of motor vehicles. It’s a blessing your pony wasn’t injured when the buggy went into the ditch.”

Both women were quiet for a moment.

“The question is,” Hannah said, “what do we do about them? I almost sent her to Brazil to visit Leah and her husband. I thought that maybe a few months away from David and—”

Sadie cut her off absently. “He was sick. When he was little. Cancer. We thought we were going to lose him. But God was good. The doctors...”

She raised her gaze to meet Hannah’s. “He can’t ever be a father, our David. The doctors said it’s impossible. Some boys with his...with Downs... But for certain with David. He’ll never be able to...you know.”

“Oh.” Hannah almost said she was sorry, but was she? Was that a blessing, considering David’s difficulty in taking care of his own needs? And why was Sadie sharing that? What did it have to do with Susanna and David sneaking off at night?

“I was just thinking,” Sadie said. “Ebben’s cousin’s daughter Janet, she’s slow. Not Downs. Not like Susanna or David. But she can’t read, can hardly count to twenty. David can, you know. He can read, too. Easy books and The Budget. He loves to read The Budget to us in the evenings.”

Hannah waited, wondering what Sadie’s point was.

“Janet, she got to an age where she wanted to be like her sisters, wanted to walk out with boys and go to the singings and the frolics. And pretty soon, she had herself a beau.”

“What did her parents do?”

“They talked to their bishop and their church elders, and they all decided that the best thing to do, considering...”

Hannah shifted in her seat. “Was?”

“To let them get married.”

“Get married?” Hannah repeated.

Sadie nodded.

“Are you suggesting that—” Hannah stopped and started again. “Are you saying that you think that David and my daughter—” She took a moment to compose herself. “Sadie, Susanna and David could never be married and live alone. They could never live a married life.”

Sadie pressed her lips together. “Maybe not the same married life we’ve had, but...” She looked down at her hands, then back up Hannah. “I’m not saying we should give them permission to court. I just think it’s something we need to keep in the back of our minds.”

Chapter Three

Albert pulled into the long driveway that led through the trees to his nephew John’s new log-cabin-style home. He glanced at his watch as he pulled into a spot in front of the porch. He was right on time.

He’d had a good day, considering that he’d had less sleep last night than usual; by the time he’d returned from the Yoder farm, it had been after two in the morning. Not that he minded. As a matter of fact, he’d enjoyed the little adventure. Of course, he was concerned for Hannah’s daughter and her friend. Thankfully, everyone was safe. No harm done.

And his day had turned out to be an easy one. Besides the four routine calls for immunizations, he’d stitched up a pig’s snout, and done a physical examination on a nice-looking colt. With the new vet that he and his nephew had hired tending to the small-animal portion of the practice, he was free to spend his time where his heart was, with large-animal cases: cows, horses, pigs, sheep and goats.

John and his wife, Grace, stepped out onto the porch and waved. Albert felt a rush of pride. He’d never fathered a child, but John was as close to being a son as a man could ask for. And the wife he’d chosen, Grace Yoder, had come to the marriage with a bright-eyed little boy who had eased his way into Albert’s heart.

Albert walked around the truck, opened the passenger door and let his dog out. From the floor, he took a bag containing a junior-size pair of binoculars he’d found while poking around in his attic. They had been John’s when he’d been around Dakota’s age, and he thought the boy might like them.

“Come in, Uncle Albert,” Grace called. “Supper’s ready. My spaghetti and Johanna’s yeast rolls. Your favorite.” She led them into the house and the dog trotted behind them. “She sent them home with me when I went to pick up ’Kota.”

“Where is the little rascal?” Albert looked around. “I brought him these.” He held out the binoculars.

“He’s not here,” Grace explained. “Johanna invited him to stay overnight with Jonah, and I couldn’t pry him away.”

“He’ll be sorry he missed you. But I know he’ll love these. I remember when Gramps bought the binoculars for me,” John said, taking them from Albert and peering through them. “The two of us used to go bird-watching on Sundays after church.”

“I’ll just finish up in the kitchen,” Grace said with a smile. “You two catch up on vet talk.” She hurried away, auburn ponytail swinging behind her.

Albert grinned at John. “I like that girl more every time I see her. You picked a winner. I’m just going to wash up.” He pointed toward the half bath in the hall.

John bent to pat the dog’s head. “I did, didn’t I?” he said. “Grace has made me happy, really happy.”

Albert paused at the bathroom door. “You’d have to be crazy if you weren’t happy, with her and ’Kota.”

Albert entered the small room, switched on the light and closed the door behind him. Funny, he thought as he soaped his hands, how much life there seemed to be inside the walls of this house. He looked into the round mirror. “Love inside these walls,” he murmured half under his breath. For days, he’d been looking forward to sharing this evening meal with the three of them. Home was pretty lonely without Pop there now, just him and old Blue and the two cats that had somehow wormed their way into the family.

Blue had been a hard-luck case just like the cats, and had turned out to be one of the best snap decisions he’d ever made. Not a lot of people wanted a three-legged coon hound that couldn’t hunt anymore, but he and Blue suited each other just fine. Without Blue... Albert sighed. Dogs had short lives, compared to humans, but most folks couldn’t help getting deeply attached to them, and he’d be the first to admit he was guilty.

Grace was still in the kitchen when he joined John at the long pine table in the dining room. As she had predicted, they each had stories of the day’s patients and their owners to share. Albert settled into a chair, took a sip from the glass of iced tea John had given him and studied the spacious room.

The log walls, the heavy log beams and wood floors gave the place a real flavor, and Grace and John had furnished it with a mixture of vintage pieces, such as a beautiful refinished icebox and a scarred church pew, mixed with a few antiques. Nothing was fancy. So far as he knew, the young couple didn’t own a television. Other than the laptop, which lay on a maple desk in the living room, and electricity, the house could have been from another century.

“So what’s this I hear about you coming to the Yoders’ rescue last night?” John asked.

“Amish telegraph?” Albert asked with a chuckle.

John laughed. “Johanna told Grace. I can’t imagine Susanna and David King out on the road at night with a pony. It’s a wonder something worse didn’t happen to them.”

Albert leaned back in the chair. “I came along at the right time. Whoever ran them into that ditch kept going. But it might teach those kids a lesson and keep them out of worse trouble.”

Grace came to the table with individual bowls of garden salad. “Susanna’s never done anything like that before. I’ve never known her to get into any kind of trouble. She’s such a sweet girl.”

“You think it’s serious, David and Susanna?” John asked Grace. “They seem to spend a lot of time together.”

“I don’t know,” she answered.

“It worries Hannah,” Albert said. “We got to talk some when we walked David back to his house. You’ve got to admire Hannah for the job she’s done with your sister. It can’t have been easy. David’s parents, too. From what I’ve seen of him, he seems like a good boy. But Hannah’s alone. She’s had to go through all this dating and courtship stuff with all of her girls all by herself since Jonas passed away.”

A timer went off in the kitchen. “That’s the pasta,” Grace explained. “Supper’s coming up as soon as I can drain them.”

“Is the buggy a total loss?” John asked.

Albert shook his head. “No, not at all. A new axle should fix it good as new. Hannah was fortunate in that, too.”

“That’s great,” John sipped his tea. “Buggies are expensive, and I know the family thinks a lot of that one. Grace said her father brought it from Pennsylvania when he was courting Hannah.”

Grace returned with plates of spaghetti, meatballs and sauce, and John jumped up to bring in the bread and butter. Everyone took their seats, they bowed their heads for a silent grace, Amish-style, and then they began to enjoy the delicious meal. It seemed that all three of them had had a good day. Grace had scored well on a test at the community college where she was studying to be a vet tech, and John had successfully delivered a litter of four healthy Cavalier King Charles Spaniels by caesarean section.

As they finished supper, Albert remembered the box of cookies he’d picked up at the German bakery. “Wait right here,” he said. “I brought dessert. It won’t take a moment to fetch it.”

“We won’t be able to walk away from the table,” Grace teased.

“Then you can just roll me out of the house.” Albert got out of his chair. “But I’ll bounce down the steps with a grin on my face.”

“Uncle Albert, I’ll get them.” Grace put her hand on his shoulder as she passed him. “You sit. I forgot to pick up the mail, and I have to walk right past your truck. Come on, Blue,” she called to the dog. “Want to take a walk?”

John refilled Albert’s glass, Albert sat down again and John shared a joke Milly had told him. Albert laughed so hard he almost choked on his iced tea.

“You’re in a good mood tonight,” John said thoughtfully. “We’ve been worried about you since Gramps died. You really haven’t seemed like yourself.”

“It’s not easy losing your father. He had his health problems, and I know he was right with his salvation. But I do miss him every day.”

“I miss him, too,” John agreed. “Without him—without the two of you—I wouldn’t be where I am today. I’d never have gotten through school if—”

“Now, none of that,” Albert said, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “You would have found your way.” Still, John’s admission warmed him inside. “You’re right, though. I have been down in the dumps. Maybe some of it is realizing that when the older generation passes on, I’m suddenly at the top of the hill looking down.”

John laughed. “You’re what, Uncle Albert? Fifty-five? That’s hardly over the hill.”

“Fifty-six in July.” Albert grimaced. “Sound like I’m eighty-five sometimes, don’t I? I should be around Dakota more. Kids keep you young.”

John leaned forward. “Have you ever thought about moving in with us? We could build a whole basement suite and even put in a minikitchen, if you don’t want to eat with us regularly.”

Albert laid his hand over John’s. “I have thought about it. I really appreciate the offer, but you and Grace need time and space to build your own family.”

John nodded. “You’re sure?”

Albert nodded.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, the offer stands. We’d love to have you here, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a built-in babysitter.” They both laughed.

“I’ll manage on my own just fine,” Albert assured him.

“I know you will. I just worry. Maybe you need a hobby. Something to occupy your time when you’re not working.” John met Albert’s gaze. “Because you can’t just work, go to church and come here for dinner once a week. You need something more.”

“Like what? Playing golf? Jet skiing?”

Again they laughed, because while many men his age might take up either, they weren’t and never would be choices Albert would make.

Grace and Blue returned to the house, and then they enjoyed the cookies. It was eight forty-five when Albert drove away. As he turned onto the blacktop, he glanced back at the house. John was right. He had been happier tonight than he’d been since before Pop’s health had taken a turn for the worse. It didn’t pay for a man to brood on what he didn’t have. Maybe John was right; maybe he needed a hobby. He needed something, but that something wasn’t moving in with John’s family.