“Okay, Dad,” Maddy said, looking at the clipboard on the desk. She’d put in a full day’s work, and she didn’t have to burn the midnight oil. Nowhere had that been specifically stated in her contract here at The Lighthouse Inn. “I’ll be over in about a half-hour, okay? I just need to change and make the drive.”
“I’ll put some hot dogs on the grill.”
“No, Dad,” Maddy said quickly. “If you’re not feeling well, we don’t need to add fire to that, okay?” Worry gnawed at her, and she once again wondered how much longer her father could live alone. Now that she’d signed her contract, she couldn’t move in with him, and he certainly couldn’t move into the inn with her. He’d never be able to get up and down the stairs, for one.
The old inn had an elevator that went up the back—or rather the front—
