She regarded her son.
Then her eyes went to her grandson.
“Michael,” she said. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
Mike blinked in surprise.
“What?”
“I’m seventy-six years old,” Eileen said. “I raised five boys. I know what my grandchildren look like.”
She gestured toward Luke.
“That boy doesn’t have a single Whitman feature on his face,” she said. “Not the nose. Not the ears. Not those eyes. I’ve known since the day he was born.”
Mike gazed at his mother. TrackPregnancy
“You knew?” he said. “For eighteen years?”
“I suspected,”
