Finally, we had a discussion about naming the baby.  “We can’t call the baby Freddy if it is a girl . . .” I began while we ate lunch at a little restaurant.

“Name her Beatta,” he said, “after my grandmother.”

“That’s a nice name, but I was thinking about something like Lilli.”

“Both will work.” He said,  snapping off a piece of a carrot.

“And for a boy?” I asked, “not Willem or Alfred . . . “ hedging his preferences.

“How about Rudolph or Hans?”  He asked. Both were grandparents. 

“Hans Christian Anderson,” I said, musing.  “My father’s father was Hans.”

“So he will be named Hans.” Willem said with final...

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