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that we do. I hope he doesn’t grow bored with you like so many of the Englischers do with their marriages. They think nothing of divorce.”
    Emma looked up from her sewing. “Sabrina, he’s Amish now, he’s just been baptized and taken the instruction. You can’t call him Englisch .”
    “That’s right, Sabrina. Bailey’s not Englisch .” Silvie inhaled sharply and fisted her dress in both hands. Silvie meant what she said; she would defend her Bailey against Sabrina's mudslinging. But some of her mud had begun to stick, and she wasn't sure if she'd forgive Sabrina if it ruined her relationship. She wanted to trust and be happy, but in her heart she already had a nagging suspicion that all was not well with Bailey.
    Emma frowned while she sewed silently. Silvie knew that Emma had been just as shocked as she at Sabrina’s constant negative talk of Bailey.
    Sabrina held up the dress in her hands, allowing the sun to pass through the blue fabric. "Tell me, Silvie, did you use the same material manufacturer as Emma? It's so beautiful."
    "I did." Silvie exhaled, happy for the change of subject and diffused tension. "They're very good and affordable, compared to some."
    "Jah ," Sabrina said, her attention returned to her sewing, "It wouldn't do to waste too much money on..."
    Silvie kicked Sabrina's ankle under the table, while she gave her a stern look.
    "Tsk." Sabrina flinched. "That hurt.”
    “ Gut , it was meant to, and I’ll do it again if you don’t stop saying horrible things about my future husband and your future bruder -in-law.”
    Sabrina remained silent, and Silvie kicked her sharply once more.
    “Ow, Silvie!”
    Silvie stared at Sabrina until she said, “Okay, I’ll keep quiet.”
    Sabrina looked over toward Emma and Emma looked back to her sewing.
    “Hello.” Maureen knocked on the door.
    Silvie jumped to her feet and let her in.
    “Sorry, Silvie, I’ve just gotten off from work. I had to stay back and do a couple of extra things.” As Maureen walked toward the kitchen where the other ladies sat, she looked at everyone. “Everyone’s quiet, what’s wrong?”
    Emma was quick to say, “Nothing, we were just having a lively discussion, but it’s over now.”
    Maureen smiled. “Now, what can I do, Silvie?”
    “We were having a discussion about Bailey,” Sabrina said.
    Maureen nodded and kept quiet.
    “Enough said, Sabrina,” Silvie said frowning at her schweschder. Silvie turned back to Maureen. “You can do this hem for me, Maureen.”
    Maureen took a seat and threaded needle and cotton.

 
    Chapter 8.
    A wrathful man stirreth up strife:
    but he that is slow to anger appeaseth strife.
    Proverbs 15:18
     
    Bailey sat in Dr. Phillips’ waiting room. It was nothing like Dr Chivers’ lush office quarters. There was no fish tank filled with rare tropical fish and no white leather couches. The room was small and sparse with four metal and vinyl covered chairs and one coffee table filled with out-of-date newspapers.
    The doctor poked his head into the room. “Bailey Rivers?”
    “Yup,” Bailey said, half amused that he was the only person in the waiting room and the doctor should have known who he was since he was just there the day before. There was no receptionist.
    “Have a seat,” the doctor ordered.
    There was no couch, just two easy chairs in the doctor’s small office. Bailey sat in one of them and tried to wind down.
    "Relax. It's important that you forget about me here, and think that you are in your own room, alone, quiet, relaxed."
    Bailey tried to allow his stress to melt away, but when the doctor said ‘own room’ he couldn’t help but think that he had no room or home that he could call his own, not at the moment. He would pretend he was in bed late at night at Jack and Pamela’s haus.
    "Okay." Bailey linked his fingers over his chest and closed his eyes. "I'm ready."
    "And don't speak."
    "Ah, right."
    "Clear your mind, Bailey. Let go of work, of Silvie, of all