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four weeks old. Isn’t he handsome?” She handed him a cardboard folder frame from Sears Photography Studio.
    Carl gazed at the photograph. The baby clutched a toy stuffed elephant. He wore a light blue pajamalike outfit with a little choo-choo train embroidered over the left breast. He sat propped up against a blanket backdrop. His eyes were bright and big, and he had an open mouth, toothless smile. The baby’s sparse, dark blond hair was exactly the same shade as Carl’s. He could have been the father. “He’s beautiful,” Carl murmured.
    â€œMaybe I’m biased,” Mrs. Sheehan said. “But he has the sweetest disposition. Oh, and what a smile. He’s a real cutie.” She reached for the photograph.
    Carl hated surrendering it. “He doesn’t cry much?” he asked.
    â€œWell, less than most babies, and I speak from experience. But Amy—that’s my daughter—she’s had a few sleepless nights with him. That’s to be expected at this stage.”
    â€œIt’s easier after a couple of months, isn’t it?” Carl asked. He heard the naïveté in his voice and tried to cover himself. “I mean, it was with my own little boy…”
    â€œWell, at least when they start sleeping through the night, it’s easier,” she agreed.
    â€œMy son had colic,” Carl said. He’d read about it in one of the baby books he’d bought for Eve. “And he was allergic to dairy products. We had a tough time with him for a while. Your grandson doesn’t have any problems like that, does he?”
    â€œNo, thank goodness. It’ll be hard enough on my daughter. See, she has to go back to work in a couple of weeks—part-time.”
    â€œWhat does your daughter do?” Carl asked.
    â€œShe’s a cashier at the Safeway in her neighborhood. I think she’d rather have another kind of job, but she never finished college, so her choices are limited.”
    â€œWhy didn’t she finish school?” Carl asked. “Grades?”
    â€œOh, no, her grades were good.” Mrs. Sheehan sighed. “No, see, Amy and my son-in-law met in college. They eloped during her sophomore year. My late husband—well, he wasn’t too happy about it. We’d been paying for her college, but he felt they were on their own after that. So Amy had to quit school.
    â€œLast year, I gave her some money to go back for her degree, but then she found out she was pregnant, and they used the money as a down payment for their house. It’s a sweet little town house. I think they’ll be happy there.”
    â€œPardon me for saying so, but you don’t sound very sure.”
    Mrs. Sheehan gave him a wry, sidelong glance. “You’re pardoned, and quite correct.” She lowered her seat back and sighed. “Juggling a job, a house, a husband, and a baby…I don’t know. Amy feels terrible leaving the baby with this day-care center, like she’s abandoning him or something. She’s my youngest. I suppose that’s why I worry about her more than I do my other two children. I still think of her as my baby.” Mrs. Sheehan smiled tiredly. “It never really gets easy, does it? Do you just have the one? The little boy?”
    Carl nodded. “Yes, he’s three years old.”
    â€œWhat’s his name?”
    â€œSam.” That had been the name he’d wanted for Eve and his baby. He’d been so sure it would be a boy. “It’s tough being away from him on these business trips,” Carl thought to add. “Um, what kind of work does your son-in-law do?”
    â€œHe’s a salesman for Hallmark.”
    â€œA salesman,” Carl echoed. That had been his father’s profession. He was retired now, still living in Santa Rosa, the same house in which Carl had grown up.
    â€œYes, they both work,” Mrs. Sheehan was saying. She glanced briefly out the plane