The Last Word (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

she told Kim that she’d be in touch and then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
    “Wait.” Nurse Love reclaimed her clipboard and handed it to Kim. “There’s one form you do need to complete to get a birth certificate. Have you chosen a name for your son?”
    Kim accepted the pen. “Before I went into labor, Hudson and still I couldn’t agree on one . . .”
    “Pick the name you liked,” Olivia ordered. “You’re the one with staples in your belly. Hudson will accept your choice.”
    “Kyle, after my father.” Kim wrote swiftly. “And then Anders, my maiden name. Kyle Anders Salter. And I do believe I’ll call him Anders. He’s got to grow into Kyle.” She handed the clipboard back to the nurse, her lips trembling. “Please give Anders a kiss for me. Tell him that his mommy loves him. That I’ll be there as soon as I can. Tell him I’ll be praying that I can hold him soon . . .” The rest of her words turned into sobs.
    Olivia escaped from the mother’s heart-rending grief. She knew that Kim desperately wanted to be with her baby, but necessity required her to settle for Olivia’s presence instead.
    With the weight of her obligation lying heavily on her shoulders, Olivia strode out to the waiting room and explained to Hudson why his son was being transferred to another hospital. Before he could ask a single question, she assured him that she planned to drive to Greenville as soon as she made arrangements for Haviland.
    “Your wife is terrified,” she whispered to Hudson before leaving. “Go to her. I’ll call you the minute your son comes out of surgery. Don’t worry.” She gave him a brave smile. “It’s amazing what doctors can fix these days.”
    Relieved to see Hudson take Caitlyn gently by the hand and turn toward the labor and delivery ward, Olivia pulled out her phone and began to make the first of many important calls.
    It was nearly midnight by the time Olivia returned to the quiet and comfort of her own home.
    Under any other circumstances, Olivia would have deemed it downright rude to call Diane, Haviland’s vet and Flynn McNulty’s girlfriend, at eleven forty at night in order to pick up her dog, but after the day she’d had, she didn’t feel a single twinge of regret. She needed Haviland.
    “At least you had a nice dinner,” Olivia told the poodle, who was giving her the canine version of a cold shoulder by averting his gaze. “I feasted on mystery meat from the hospital cafeteria.”
    Haviland groaned and trotted away.
    Ignoring the blinking light on her answering machine, Olivia wearily climbed the stairs, changed into her nightgown, and fell into bed. She expected sleep to come immediately, but her mind was still pacing the halls of Pitt Memorial Hospital.
    Nurse Love had been a gem. True to her word, she’d scrubbed in and stayed with Anders throughout his surgery. Olivia wiled away the hours watching CNN, flipping through insipid women’s magazines, and drinking cup after cup of watery coffee, but the dedicated pediatric nurse left the operating room only to let Olivia know that the surgery was complete and that her nephew was doing fine.
    “How long will the recovery take?” Olivia had asked.
    “It varies. Some children go home after two weeks, some three. There’s really no science to this sort of thing.” She removed the blue cloth cap she’d worn for the past four hours and ran a hand over her short, black hair. “Do you want to see him?”
    Olivia shook her head. “Not with all those tubes and things,” she admitted. “I just want to be able to call his parents, say that he’s doing well and that they needn’t worry, and go home.”
    Nurse Love smiled knowingly. “His mother’s going to ask if you saw him. Trust me.” She put a hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “You’ve been sitting here for hours wondering about your nephew. Now come meet him face-to-face.”
    Incredibly nervous, Olivia had waited until the baby was admitted to the NICU and, after being given instructions on how to wash her hands and forearms and dress herself in a sterile gown, she’d entered a room populated by nurses and miniscule babies in incubators.
    Olivia had never been so frightened in her life. Her navy eyes grew round as they took in the sight of the tiny arms and legs of the diapered forms. Even the crying sounded undeveloped. They were more like bird cries than the lusty howls she’d heard from full-sized babies in the grocery store. These were pitiful,