everyone else by remarrying. Apparently he’d been confiding his problems to this other woman for some time, keeping the relationship a secret from Olivia.
A knock sounded at her door and before Olivia could answer, her mother let herself in.
Olivia straightened. She should’ve known her mother would take this opportunity to speak with her. “Hello, Mom.”
“I’m not disturbing you, am I?”
Olivia shook her head. Her mother knew the door was always open as far as she was concerned.
“Oh, good.” Charlotte immediately got to the point—her point. “What a shame it is, that young couple wanting out of their marriage when they’ve barely had a chance to get to know each other.”
Olivia was thinking the same thing, although she couldn’t and wouldn’t admit it.
“It seems to me that neither of them is very keen on this divorce. I could be wrong, but—”
“Mother, you know I can’t discuss my cases.”
“Yes, yes, I know, but sometimes I just can’t help myself.” Charlotte started to back out the door, then apparently changed her mind. “I don’t know if I ever told you this, but your father and I didn’t get along the first year, either.”
This was news to Olivia.
“Clyde was a stubborn man, and as you might have noticed I have a strong will of my own.”
That was an understatement if ever there was one.
“Our first year, all we did was argue,” Charlotte said. “And then, before I knew it, I was pregnant with your brother and well…well, we worked everything out. We had a lot of good years together, your father and I.” Her hands tightened around her purse and her knitting bag. “He was the love of my life.” As if she’d said more than she’d intended, Charlotte moved out of the room and gently closed the door behind her.
Grinning, Olivia got to her feet. Leave it to her mother to say exactly what she needed to hear. Her decision made, Olivia returned to the courtroom. Once she was seated, the Randalls and their attorneys approached the bench. Cecilia Randall stepped forward with her big, soulful eyes staring blankly into space. Ian Randall’s expression was hard and unflinching, as though he was preparing himself for the inevitable.
“I cannot discount the possibility,” Olivia began, “that these parties entered into this agreement in contemplation of the very issue—this matter of divorce—that is set before this court. They obviously placed great value on their marriage and that value served as consideration for such a contract. Their intent was clearly to avoid the outcome they now seem to be pursuing—an easy divorce. Therefore, I am not setting aside the prenuptial agreement. The issue will need to be resolved at trial. In the meantime, I strongly urge these parties to seek out counseling or apply to the Dispute Resolution Center to discuss their differences.”
Both spouses and their lawyers leaned closer, as if they couldn’t possibly have heard correctly.
Allan Harris and Brad Dumas immediately started shuffling through their notes. The sight was almost comical as the two attorneys hurried to reread the prenuptial agreement.
“Excuse me, Your Honor.” Brad Dumas reacted first, raising his hand.
“Both parties are in agreement,” Allan Harris argued. “Mr. Randall has agreed to set aside the prenuptial and has willingly taken on responsibility for a share of the debts.”
“What did she say?” Cecilia Randall asked, looking to Allan Harris.
“To clarify, Your Honor,” Brad Dumas requested, his expression puzzled.
“The agreement stands as written,” Olivia stated.
“You’re not setting aside the agreement?” Allan Harris spoke slowly. He sounded confused.
“No, Counselors, I am not, for the reasons I’ve just indicated.”
Allan Harris and Brad Dumas stared at her.
“Is there a problem, gentlemen?”
“Ah…”
She waved them aside. “See the clerk and set a trial date.”
“Does this mean we can’t go through with the divorce?” Cecilia asked her attorney.
“I want the divorce as much as you do,” Ian Randall insisted.
Olivia slammed her gavel. “Order in the court,” she told them. If the couple chose to argue, they could do so on their own time.
Moving as though they were in shock, Allan Harris and Brad Dumas picked up their papers and briefcases.
“Is there any other option?” Cecilia Randall asked Allan Harris as they walked toward the doors.
“We might be able to appeal, but…”
“But that’ll drive up the costs even more,” Ian protested, close behind with his own attorney. Apparently Brad was still too dumbfounded to speak.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Cecilia muttered once she’d reached the courtroom doors. “Can’t we do something?”
“The judge said we have to take this to trial?” Ian Randall sounded incredulous. “Just how expensive is that going to be?”
“Very,” Allan Harris answered quickly, as if he’d take delight in running up his client’s husband’s tab.
“But that’s not what I want,” Cecilia wailed.
“Then I suggest you do what the judge recommended and seek counseling or contact the Dispute Resolution Center.”
“I’m not airing my problems to a group of strangers.” With that Ian Randall slammed his way out of the court. Brad Dumas followed his client, but not before tossing Olivia a disgruntled look.
Allan Harris stood there shaking his head, his expression incredulous.
The bailiff read off the next number and still Allan remained.
Cecilia Randall turned away, but not fast enough to disguise the fact that her eyes had filled with tears. Olivia felt her heart break just a little—and yet she was convinced she’d done the right thing.
“How did this happen?” Cecilia asked.
“I don’t understand it,” Olivia heard Allan Harris mumble. “This is crazy.”
Cecilia Randall shook her head. “You’re right,” she murmured, shrugging into her coat. “None of this should have happened, but it just did.”
Two
Olivia groaned when the telephone rang for the fifth time Saturday morning. No doubt this call, like all the others, was the result of Jack Griffin’s newspaper piece published that morning. The newly appointed editor of the Cedar Cove Chronicle
