“I don’t know how you do it all,” Olivia told her friend. “You’re so busy. How will you find the time to work on your book?”
Laurel shrugged. “I write after I put the boys to bed. I’m tired, but I pour myself some wine and sit down at the computer with Michael Buble or Harry Connick and type away for an hour or two every night.” She twisted a strand of wheat blond hair around her forefinger. “It’s not like Steve and I are sharing a bottle of merlot in the kitchen and swapping stories about our day. We’re not even watching TV together. For the past few months, I’ve barely seen him. He comes home after I’m already in bed, smelling like beer and cigarettes.”
“Have you asked him where he’s been?”
“I’m afraid of the answer,” Laurel said after a pregnant pause. “As long as we’re in this limbo, we’re still a family.”
Olivia cast her a sidelong glance. “And how does Michel fit in this familial arrangement?”
Laurel colored. “He’s just a good friend.”
“You know he wants to be more than that.”
“I told him that I can’t,” she said firmly. “Not while I’m still married. I’m not that kind of woman.”
Olivia wasn’t sure what else there was to say. Only Laurel could determine when she was ready to address the problems with her marriage, and Olivia knew nothing about the intricacies of the institution. It had taken her most of her adult life to meet a man worth taking a risk for, and yet, she had no idea how to follow Jeannie’s advice and do something big to show Sawyer Rawlings that she had no reservations left when it came to starting a relationship with him.
Laurel perked up the moment she entered the children’s boutique. Moving through the store with utmost assurance, she filled a cart with bedding, clothes, diapers, bathing equipment, and toys. She then chose the nursery furniture, insisting upon same-day delivery. When the woman running the customer service desk spluttered an excuse, pointing at the schedule on her computer, Olivia gestured at the pair of loaded shopping carts and said, “We could leave these here and go to another store if that’s what you’d prefer.”
“No, no!” the woman hastily capitulated. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
“I wish I had the guts to do that,” Laurel said after their purchases had been totaled.
Olivia grinned. “I wouldn’t have been so forceful, but the schedule page she showed us was for
“No wonder Michel respects you so much,” Laurel said with a laugh. “He refers to you as Madame General to the staff, you know.”
“I think that has a nice ring to it,” Olivia replied breezily.
After shopping, the two women and Haviland ate lunch at a dog-friendly outdoor cafe and then Olivia dropped Laurel off and drove across town to meet Hudson at his house. Hudson gave her a quick tour of his home and then they sat on the stoop and drank iced coffee. It wasn’t long before the deliverymen from the children’s boutique arrived and set up the nursery furniture. Olivia tipped them handsomely and then she and Hudson hung curtains and framed prints and washed a load of baby clothes, blankets, and burp cloths. They put board books and soft toys on the shelves and plugged in a crescent moon nightlight.
When they were done, Hudson stood in the doorway and gazed around the room. Laurel 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 weeks with Millay because she didn’t know what to do with Kamila now that her character had slept with Ramses. It wasn’t the first time Olivia had faced writer’s block, but this one seemed more formidable than previous ones. She sensed there was a parallel between her own stymied romance and her inability to plot the next passage of Kamila’s life.
“How can I decide what happens next?” she’d complained to the blank document on her computer screen, glowing poltergeist white in the evening light. “I can’t even map out the next scene in
Now, as she waited for Kim to call to say that she and Anders and Caitlyn were home, Olivia turned her attention to Millay’s chapter. She was looking forward to seeing what new adventure Millay’s heroine, Tessa, had embarked upon.
A Gryphon Warrior, Tessa had been chosen to defend her land against a scourge of frightening mythological creatures. Up to this point, the narrative had focused mainly on Tessa and her Gryphon. The two were bonded like
