16 Lighthouse Road Read Free Page B

would soon fix that. These halls got downright chilly, especially during Cedar Cove’s damp winters. How sad that this man didn’t have anyone who cared enough about his welfare to see that he had a basic comfort like that.
    â€œI’ll be back soon,” she told him again.
    Tom nodded and gave her a rakish little grin. Oh, yes, he’d been a charmer in his day.
    As she walked out the main door, Janet stopped her. “Did you introduce yourself to Tom Harding?”
    â€œI did. What a dear man.”
    â€œI knew you’d think so. You’re exactly what he needs.”
    â€œHe doesn’t have any family?”
    â€œThere’s no next of kin listed in his file. It’s about five years since his stroke, and apparently he’s never had visitors.” She paused, frowning. “But then, I don’t know how much we can trust the record-keeping at Senior Haven.”
    â€œHow long was he there?”
    Janet shrugged. “I don’t recall exactly. At least five years. After he was released from chronic care.”
    â€œOh, the poor man. He’s—”
    â€œIn need of a friend,” Janet finished for her.
    â€œWell, he found one,” Charlotte said. She’d always been a talker. Clyde used to say she could make friends with a brick wall. He meant it as a compliment and she’d taken it that way.
    On second thought, she wouldn’t ask the women at the Senior Center to knit Tom a lap robe; she’d do it herself, just as soon as she finished the baby blanket. By her next visit, she’d have something to give him, something to keep him warm—the lap robe…and her friendship.
    Â 
    Judge Olivia Lockhart had a difficult time with divorce cases, which were her least favorite duty in family court. She’d served on the bench for two years and figured she’d seen it all. Then there were cases like this one.
    Ian and Cecilia Randall were asking to rescind their handwritten notarized prenuptial agreement. As soon as that was out of the way, they would file for the dissolution of their marriage. The attorneys stood before her with their clients at their sides.
    Olivia glanced at the paperwork, noting that it had been dated and signed less than a year ago. How a marriage could go so wrong so quickly was beyond her. She looked up and studied the couple. So young, they were, both of them staring down at their feet. Ian Randall seemed to be a responsible young man, probably away from his home and family for the first time, serving in the military. The wife was a fragile waif, impossibly thin with dark, soulful eyes. Her straight brown hair framed her heart-shaped face; the ends straggled to her shoulders. She repeatedly looped a strand around her ear, probably out of nerves.
    â€œI must say this is original,” Olivia murmured, rereading the few lines of the text. It was straightforward enough if unusual. According to the agreement, the spouse who filed for divorce would assume all debts.
    Apparently they’d had a change of heart in that, as well as in the matter of their marriage. Olivia glanced over the brief list of accumulated debts and saw that they’d been evenly split between the couple. If the marriage had lasted longer, of course, the debts would have been more punishing—amortgage, presumably, car payments and so on. Which would have provided the discontented spouse with an incentive of sorts to stay in the marriage, Olivia supposed. In any event, the current debts amounted to seven thousand dollars. Ian Randall assumed all credit card bills and Cecilia Randall had agreed to pay the utility bills, which included a three-hundred-dollar phone bill and oddly enough, a two-hundred-dollar charge to a florist shop. The largest of the debts, she noticed, was burial costs, which they had agreed to share equally.
    â€œBoth parties have reached an agreement in regard to all debts accumulated during the time of their marriage,”