The Last Word (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

had chosen a sailboat theme for the crib sheets, bumper, and quilt. A mobile of bright boats bobbed from the ceiling, and a lamp shaped like a blue whale threw a scattering of stars against the wall above the changing table. A rug made of squares of primary colors and the framed prints of swimming fish lent the small space a cozy, cheerful atmosphere.
    Olivia couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to have such a tiny, helpless being sleeping in this room. She pictured her nephew, his beautiful gray eyes gazing up at the boat mobile, hands curled into fists as he gurgled and cooed at the small aquarium attached to one of the crib rails. Would he cry as he watched the plastic octopus swimming by? Would the lullabies or bubbling noises soothe him to sleep during the early hours of the morning or stimulate him so that he woke up the entire household? Would Anders dream?
    “Kim’s going to pass right out when she sees this,” Hudson said, his eyes smiling. “I planned to buy a used crib and a pack of diapers and let it go at that. This room looks like it could be on TV.”
    Knowing this was high praise, Olivia nodded in agreement and then removed a gift-wrapped package from a shopping bag. “May I put this in Caitlyn’s room? I didn’t think it was fair to lavish things on my nephew while ignoring my niece.”
    “Sure.” He examined the rectangular shape. “What is it anyhow?”
    “An art set. It’s a little advanced for her age, but the girl has real talent. You should have seen the drawings she did the night you and Kim came to The Boot Top to finesse the menu for the crab house.” Olivia held up the present, which was wrapped in pink paper covered by silver and purple butterflies. “This has everything a budding artist needs. Colored pencils, pastels, charcoal, paints, brushes, and tons of paper.”
    Hudson put his heavy arm around Olivia. He didn’t say a word, but she could feel his gratitude in the gentle squeeze he gave her shoulders. He then gave Haviland a scratch on the neck and glanced at his watch.
    “Time for work,” he declared, not bothering to conceal his eagerness to head for the restaurant.
    Olivia followed him outside. “You’re going to take a day off when Anders comes home, aren’t you?”
    Looking horrified at the prospect, Hudson shook his head. “Not a chance. I plan to be at the restaurant as much as possible. You’ve never lived with a newborn. All they do is eat, sleep, poop, and cry. By the time Caitlyn starts school, things’ll be better, but until then, this is gonna be the summer of no sleep. Don’t be surprised if you find me stretched out on the floor in the office.”
    Olivia thought of Laurel, of how she juggled her career and motherhood without much support from her husband.
    “Aren’t you modern-daddy types supposed to be hands-on? Changing diapers and getting up with the baby in the middle of the night?”
    Hudson snorted. “I’d just make a mess of things. Kim’s real good with the kids. I don’t know how to do things like she does.” He paused, his gaze going distant. “I used to watch her with Caitlyn when she didn’t know I was looking. I’d wonder how she could tell exactly what that kid needed. She knew when to burp her, when to change her, when to sing to her. Seeing Kim like that . . . it was like spying on a stranger.”
    Olivia let a moment of quiet settle between them. “I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
    “It’s good, I guess. It was just different, that’s all.”
    He shifted uncomfortably, and Olivia recognized that her brother had had enough sibling intimacy for the moment. However, she was in a lighthearted mood from working in Anders’ room, so she laughed and chucked Hudson on the arm. “I don’t like change either. Unless I’m revitalizing an old building or starting up a new restaurant, I’d rather stick with the status quo forever. But look at us, Hudson. The time is flying by. We’ve got to be able to keep pace with it, stare it in the eye, and say, ‘Bring on the change. I’m ready.’ ”
    Hudson gave her a strange look. “Are we still talking about me here?”
    Olivia felt a tinge of heat prickle the skin of her cheeks. “Maybe not.”

    By Friday, Rawlings still hadn’t returned Olivia’s calls. He sent the Bayside Book Writers an e-mail saying that he’d try to make their next meeting but that he hadn’t had an opportunity to critique Millay’s chapter. Olivia had switched