Baby Claire was often in evidence in our work place, sleeping on mother's arm or in her file cabinet remodeled crib, or supping on Martha's breast.
Claire seemed pleased to be held by anyone, at least most of the time, but on occasion she'd let out a scream, loud enough to shake Howie from the past in spite of his near-soundproof basement room.
Now I won't even see Claire take her first step.
I can't imagine not seeing her or holding little Claire again.
When she opened it, Claire gazed at her with a look both guarded and surprised.
