June naps while dinner is simmering in the Crock-Pot and the baby is, however briefly, down. Motherhood is hard work, almost as hard as marriage. But she trusts the books that promise Jack will eventually sleep through the night and the advice columns that counsel daily gestures of love, like cooking a pork roast instead of a peanut soufflé.
Her husband brings her minimart carnations for Mother's Day, but he has no stomach for dry pork and no patience with fussy babies. So she swaddles his abandoned possessions in newsprint (Ann Landers and Dear Abby) and mails them after him.