Page 50 of The Glass Dolphin

Alice’s expression transformed into one with compassion and pity, and Clara’s heart struck against her ribcage. “I don’t think so,” Alice said, which contradicted the look on her face.

“But…” Clara didn’t know what to say.

“I think I’ve found the documents we need,” she said. “And now, we have to…well, it might be a bit tricky.” She gestured Clara back, and she did move. Alice reached to press the button to lower the gate. “I’m essentially going to petition the Coalition to sign the documents.”

“But they should own it.”

“But they haven’t been paying the keepers,” she said. “The city has. If anyone should own it, it’s the city of Five Island Cove, and that’s against the county ordinances here in the cove. That’s why your family owned the lighthouse in the first place.”

“Then why was the city paying?”

Alice grinned, and Clara seriously wanted to slap the gesture from her face. “Can I explain it once, please?”

Clara pressed her teeth together, but she managed to nod. She went with Alice back toward her mother’s condo, not enjoying the wind tunnel that the breezeway had become this winter. Her face felt like it would chap off before they reached her mom’s door and Alice managed to get it open.

It operated on a spring, so they had to manhandle their way inside with the folders and files, and thankfully, Mom had cleared the table of the paper plates. Alice dropped her file on the table, where it made a loud clunking noise.

Clara bent and silently put the lighter box on the floor. All eyes turned to Alice. She didn’t seem to notice as she started unpacking folders. “Can I have a cookie?”

“Alice,” Robin hissed, and the dark-haired woman finally slowed. She still wore her coat, a puffy black thing that only told Clara how slim she was. She’d paired it with a pair of leggings, like perhaps she’d just finished an exercise class before popping by to ruin their lives.

She said she didn’t think we’d lose the lighthouse, Clara told herself. She wasn’t even sure why she included herself in the “we.” She’d never wanted the lighthouse, and she still didn’t want to live there, paint it every year, keep all the insane records, and deal with the stressful storms.

But Jean and Reuben did live there, and they both loved it. Clara did not want to find them tossed out on the street by the Cove Fisherman’s Coalition, and she stole a glance at Robin, who wore her worry on her face.

She hadn’t come from the same exercise class as Alice, as she wore a pair of blue jeans and a sweater in white, pink, and yellow. It almost complimented her honey-colored hair, which hung in straight layers to her shoulders. She pursed her lips and glared at Alice. “They’re waiting for you.”

“I need a cookie first.” Alice went into the kitchen and plucked one of the decorated hearts from the tray. “These are adorable.” She hugged Jean from the side, who did smile partway and hug Alice in return. “Okay, gather ‘round, everyone.”

“Should we call the others?” Kristen asked.

“I was just going to tell you,” Alice said as she looked over to Mom. Her eyes then darted to Robin. They’d had a close friendship growing up, and since returning to the cove, if Mom was to be believed. And Clara believed her mother. “Robin and I were—”

“You and Robin?” Clara interrupted, trying to watch both of them now. The human eyes were pretty amazing, because she caught movement from both Alice and Robin, including the way Robin reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears.

“We’ve been working on a few things together,” Alice said coolly. “Come on. Come sit down, and let’s go over a few things.” She bit off one of the top humps of the heart and sank into a chair. As she chewed, she organized the folders with her free hand.

Clara saw no other choice than to sit. She wanted to hear everything anyway, and she was so glad she’d taken her one day off this week and come to her mother’s to bake. It wasn’t her favorite activity by any means, but she sure felt blessed to be here now.

Jean sat beside her, and she slipped her hand into Clara’s. That about summed up their relationship; Clara felt very protective of Jean, and while she hadn’t always treated her the best, she did love her like a sister.

“All right.” Alice flipped open another folder. “I think I’ve found enough to establish your family as the owners of the lighthouse, Kristen.” She produced photocopies of what looked like pay stubs. Three per page, and she had to have a stack of twenty, thirty, maybe more papers.

“These are paychecks to your grandmother, Rose.” Alice pointed to the swirling, old-fashioned handwriting. “They start in 1962 and then get transferred to your father, Kenneth.” She flipped over the stack to reveal a new one. “See? Then, when you and Joel take over the lighthouse duties, the checks change again.”

Clara picked up one of the pages in this last stack, and sure enough, the copies here were checks from Five Island Cove made out to her mother. “I thought Dad was the primary keeper of the lighthouse,” she said.

“I have both,” Alice said. “These are your mother’s. These are Joel’s.” She patted each stack as she said it. “It’s proof that you were living and working at the lighthouse. No one can deny that.”

No one said anything as the papers got examined and passed around. They made it back to Alice, and she put them in the proper piles, then stacked it all together and closed that folder. “It doesn’t prove ownership, but the city isn’t going to argue it.”

“How do you know that?” Mom asked.

“Because I’ve met with their counsel,” Alice said coolly. “They know they don’t own the lighthouse. In their eyes, you do. They’ve been paying you or an ancestor of yours for a great many years. We can use them in court to show ownership.”

“Why did they start paying?” Clara asked.

“Ah.” Alice bent to open the file box. “The only record we could find was this.” She extracted a single piece of paper that looked like someone had spilled black coffee on it and let it sit for a decade.

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