Chapter 2
Morgan hurried across the parking lot. Her heart plummeted when she drew closer, noticing Priscilla’s face was pale and pinched.
“Morgan,” she gasped.
“I noticed you seem to be having trouble. Can I give you a ride?”
“If you don’t mind.” Priscilla winced. “I underestimated the pain in my ankle. Captain Davey offered to give me a lift when I got off the ferry, but stubborn old me refused.”
Morgan touched her arm. “Stay here. I’ll bring my car to you.”
“You don’t…”
“I insist.” She took off, moving at a fast clip. She hopped back into her SUV and drove over to where Priscilla, who was now breathing heavily, stood waiting.
“You can lean on me.” Morgan offered the woman her arm, helping her balance on her good foot while she slid into the passenger seat.
As soon as Priscilla was settled, she stowed the cane and purse in the back and returned to the driver’s side. “How did you hurt yourself, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I was chasing after my cat, Tornado. Next thing I know…” Priscilla slapped her palms together. “I’m flat on my back with a twisted ankle. I noticed it was swelling, so I drove to the hospital’s ER and found out I had sprained it. Unfortunately, I had an appointment on the mainland, one I couldn’t reschedule, so here I am, thinking I can do it all and feeling every minute of my age.”
“You should have had someone go with you,” Morgan said.
“I hate to bother people.” Priscilla absentmindedly tugged on the edge of her blouse. “Everyone is so busy these days.”
“But not too busy if you asked for help, I’m sure.”
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
“You’re welcome.” Following Priscilla’s directions, Morgan turned onto a side street, one which ran parallel to the main drag, to a small bungalow a few blocks away.
She steered her SUV into the driveway, pulling as close as she could to the side door.
“Thanks again for the ride.” Priscilla reached for the door handle.
Morgan stopped her. “Hang on. I’ll come around.” She grabbed the woman’s purse and cane before circling around to the passenger side and opening the door. “Take your time.”
Moving at a snail’s pace, and leaning heavily on Morgan’s arm, Priscilla shuffled across the driveway to the back door. Her hand trembled as she fumbled with her keys. “I think I can make it from here.”
“I’ll feel much better if I know you’re safely inside.” Morgan helped her into the breezeway and up the narrow steps.
The entry opened to a compact yet fully furnished kitchen. Although on the small side, the double window overlooking the driveway gave the room a bright and airy feel.
Tucked away in the corner was a small table with a Formica top, a throwback from the sixties, if Morgan had to guess. Olive green chairs were neatly tucked in on each side.
A fluffy black cat stalked into the kitchen, meowing loudly.
“There’s the troublemaker.”
“Hello, Tornado.” Morgan scratched his ears. “You sure are a pretty troublemaker.”
Priscilla hobbled across the kitchen, gripping the edge of the counter with one hand and her cane with the other. “I think I’ll take a pain pill and put my foot up.”
“I don’t mind helping you get settled.”
The woman’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. Morgan could only guess what she was thinking. Priscilla, an editor for the Easton Harbor Beacon, had written some unflattering hit pieces about the Easton family, including a few about Morgan, despite the fact the woman was Elizabeth’s sister-in-law.
She hesitated.
“Please. Let me help.”
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
“You could start by telling me where to find drink glasses and your pills.”
Priscilla directed Morgan to the cabinet, where she made quick work of gathering what was needed.
“I think the recliner is my best bet. I’ll be able to elevate my leg.”
Morgan followed her into the living room. “Did the doctor tell you to put ice or heat on it?”
“I’ve already made it through the icing phase. He recommended heat.”
“Do you have a heating pad?”
“I believe there’s one in the hall closet. You might have to dig for it,” Priscilla warned.
“I’m good at digging.” Morgan set the pills and water on the table and made her way into the hall. Stacks of clear plastic bins filled the closet shelves. Taped to the front of each bin was an index card listing the contents.
Working from top to bottom, she finally found the one with the heating pad halfway down. “I found it.” Morgan carried it into the living room. “I admire your organizational skills. Everything is so neat and tidy.”
“Thank you. It’s my OCD. Everything has to be in its designated spot.” Priscilla tensed up. “If it’s not, my anxiety kicks in.”
Morgan plugged the heating pad into the nearest outlet and draped it over the armrest. “Is there anything else you need? What about your cell phone?”
“It’s in my purse.”
“I’ll go get it.” She darted into the kitchen, grabbed Priscilla’s purse, and returned to the living room. “Is there someone nearby who can check in on you…maybe a neighbor or co-worker?”
“Mimi Besteman, my boss, has been checking on me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Priscilla placed the heating pad on her ankle. “I’ve been meaning to ask…how are the wedding plans going?”
“So far, so good, although we’re getting down to the wire. Grandmother and I had our final dress fitting today. Her gown is gorgeous.”
“I heard she and Gerard will split their time between Easton Island and Toronto.”
“That’s the plan. I’m going to miss having her nearby,” Morgan said wistfully.
“You two are close.”
“Grandmother helped me through a very rough…tough time in my life. I don’t know what I would do without her.”
Priscilla started to say something and stopped.
“What were you going to say?” Morgan prompted.
“You’re blessed to have such a strong, caring woman in your life.”
“I thank God for her every day. It was hard losing my mother, but I gained something in return. Actually, I gained a lot…a brother, Looking Glass Cottage, Grandmother.”
“If I were ever to need an ally…a person in my corner, I would want someone like Elizabeth.” Priscilla shifted. “She invited me to the wedding. Between you and me, my first instinct was to decline. After giving it some thought, I’ve decided to go. Are you part of the wedding party?”
“I am. Grandmother even helped me pick out my dress.” Morgan pulled her cell phone from her pocket. “I have a picture.”
She slipped her reading glasses on and studied the photo. “The dress is stunning. I love the color. I haven’t stepped foot on Easton Estate’s property in decades.”
“I’m glad you accepted Grandmother’s invitation,” Morgan said sincerely.
Priscilla lowered her head and studied her hands. “As you know, Elizabeth and I have not always been on the best of terms. Looking back, I’m not sure how things got so far off track.”
“Perhaps it’s time to put the past behind you and start over,” Morgan said softly.
“I’ve been giving it a lot of thought lately. You’re right. I only hope I haven’t completely burned my bridges.”
Morgan paused, carefully choosing her words. She couldn’t speak for her grandmother, hadn’t been a part of the former feud. But she’d been the target of and subject to her share of Priscilla’s hostility.
Clearly, the woman was hoping to make amends. Perhaps the wedding invitation was the olive branch needed.
“I can only speak for myself, but I think there’s always an opportunity to move beyond the past. To be honest, the only person you’re hurting is yourself.”
“I don’t want to die a bitter, angry old woman.”
Morgan impulsively hugged her, her heart plummeting when she felt her shoulders tremble. “I think you’re heading in the right direction.”
She pulled away, noticing tears in Priscilla’s eyes. “Thank you, Morgan. I don’t deserve your kindness, but I do appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll let myself out.” Morgan made her way out of the house. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, grateful she’d gone with her gut and helped Priscilla. With a single, small act of kindness, she may have turned an enemy into a future friend.