Chapter 3
“Brett is back.” Morgan pointed out the sedan parked alongside the estate’s larger vehicle, used to chauffeur the family around.
As soon as she shifted into park, Tristan bolted, taking off at a dead run with Morgan trailing slowly behind. She found Mrs. Arnsby standing at the kitchen counter, a puzzled look on her face.
“Did the whirlwind, also known as Tristan, just fly by?”
“He sure did. He was looking for Brett.” The cook explained that the first thing Brett had asked when he arrived home was about Tristan. “He was glad to hear the boy was with you.”
“We had a ball.” Morgan told her about their sledding adventure. “I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but he’s fearless.”
“Which means he’ll learn new skills easily, taking to them like a duck to water,” she said. “I’ll be the first to confess that having a youngster living under the roof again has livened the place up.”
“Like a ray of bright sunshine.” Morgan patted her pocket. “Chester and I are leaving after we tell Tristan goodbye.”
Cutting through the dining room, she took the main stairs to the second floor. Veering left, she passed Brett’s bedroom before reaching his home office. The door was ajar. Voices…her brother’s low baritone, followed by Tristan’s chirpy high-pitched reply.
“Knock, knock.” She gave the door a light rap and stuck her head around the corner. “Hey, Brett.”
“Hello, Morgan. Tristan was telling me all about sledding and how he wants to meet Harlow Wynn.”
“The local magazine printed our new ad, the one with Harlow, David and me standing on Locke Pointe’s front porch. Ronni is thrilled that we’re already getting more calls and inquiries about the B&B.”
“It doesn’t hurt to use a little star power,” Brett said.
Tristan tugged on his arm. “Can we go ice fishing now? I have my clothes on the hook by the door.”
“Sure. Give me a few minutes.”
“I’ll put away the art book Aunt Morgan let me borrow.” Tristan scampered off, and Brett waited until he was gone. “Thanks for hanging out with him today.”
“We had fun.” Morgan shot a quick glance over her shoulder. “He’s a little worried about starting school.”
Brett’s eyes clouded with concern. “I heard the same. You know how mean kids can be, especially to the new kid.”
“And an Easton to boot.” Morgan folded her arms and leaned her hip against the door. “It might not be a bad idea to talk to his teacher.”
“It’s already on my to-do list. Her name is Ms. Blanchard. I’m meeting her tomorrow morning. Although the students are on Christmas break, she’ll be at the school, getting ready for them to return to class.”
“Perfect. Hopefully, you’ll be able to head off any potential problems.”
“I…” Brett hesitated.
“What?” Morgan prompted.
“I was thinking maybe I should take someone with me to make sure I ask the right questions. I don’t know the first thing about what Tristan might need.”
“I’m new to this aunt thing, but I suppose between the two of us, we can muddle through. What time?”
“Ten.”
“Easton Island Public Schools in Easton Harbor?”
“Correct.”
“I’ll meet you there.” Morgan turned to go. “If you can think of anything I can do to help make Tristan’s transition smoother, I’m here.”
“I appreciate it. Keeping him busy helped immensely.”
During the drive to Easton Harbor, Morgan thought about her nephew and how proud she was of Brett for stepping up, stepping in and taking responsibility for his son. With the family working together, Tristan had an excellent shot at having a good life.
Grandmother Elizabeth may not have gotten the newborn great grandbaby to cuddle that she longed for, but perhaps Tristan’s situation would work out even better for the family…a young child, full of ideas, hopes and dreams, who would one day carry on the Easton name.
Morgan had a good feeling in her bones. Tristan would do fine. With concerted effort and constant care, he would thrive in his new home. She hoped so, not only for his sake but also for her brother’s.
*****
Grandmother Elizabeth, waiting for Morgan’s arrival, met her at the gallery door. “Where’s Tristan?”
“With Brett. He got back early from his trip. They’re going ice fishing.”
“I planned to invite him to hang out with me here at the art gallery, but by the time I called the house, you had already whisked him away.”
“To Locke Pointe. We went sledding.”
Elizabeth arched her eyebrow. “Down the big hill leading to the lake? Oh, dear. Has he gone sledding before?”
“No, but I’m happy to report he’s now an old pro, and fearless, I might add.” Morgan spun in a slow circle. “While I was driving through town, I noticed how quiet it was…very few cars and little traffic on the streets.”
“More like dead as a doornail. My guess is the islanders have gone to the mainland to return the Christmas gifts they don’t want,” Elizabeth said. “I was thinking about closing early and taking the afternoon off.”
“Where is Gerard?”
“He left for Toronto. His niece, Randi Colbane, is in town for a brief stopover, en route to Malta, and he planned to meet up with her.”
“How is Randi these days?” Morgan had met the famous Biblical archaeologist not long after finding the Shifting Sands Medallion.
The woman had been instrumental in verifying its authenticity and putting her in touch with the IAA—the Israel Antiquities Authority.
An interesting and odd woman, Randi was what Morgan deemed eccentric, but in a good way.
“Here, there, everywhere. Randi doesn’t stay in one place for very long.” Elizabeth flipped the open sign to closed and shut the lights off. “What are you up to this afternoon?”
“I was going to hang out with Tristan, but now that he’s with Brett, I’m free as a bird.”
“This will work out perfectly. I’ll be right back.” Her grandmother excused herself.
While Morgan waited, she meandered around, checking out the new consignment pieces on display, thinking how much Tristan would love exploring the gallery.
Fast steps echoed, and her grandmother reappeared. “We’re all set.”
“Set for what?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Elizabeth grabbed her keys off the hook. “I’ll drive.”
“Can Chester tag along?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Out on the sidewalk, Morgan waited while Elizabeth locked up. They hopped into Burnie, her grandmother’s burnt orange Ford LTD Crown Victoria and backed out of the parking spot.
Morgan braced herself, waiting for her grandmother to hit the gas. Her head snapped back, and off they went, roaring down the street. “The speed limit is twenty-five,” she reminded her.
“You’re right.” Elizabeth took her foot off the gas. “I need to learn to slow down.”
Zipping down a side street, they reached the main thoroughfare, but from the opposite direction of the diagonal parking spaces.
“Maybe we should…”
It was too late. Elizabeth swung Burnie around in a wide loop and careened into an empty parking spot. Morgan squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the “crunch” of metal on metal.
“Whatever are you doing?”
Her eyes flew open. “Waiting for you to swipe the bumper of the car next to you.”
“I wasn’t even close. I had plenty of room.”
Despite her grandmother’s insistence, Morgan cautiously eased the passenger side door open. “C’mon Chester.”
Her pup wiggled out of the narrow opening. He hit the ground, ducked down and scampered to the sidewalk.
Sucking in her gut, Morgan shuffled sideways between the vehicles, only able to let out the breath she was holding when she cleared the curb. “Where are we going?”
“Here.” Elizabeth grasped the handle of her purse and gazed up at the newly opened café. “I’ve heard the food is delicious.”
The Harbor Café was busy but not packed, and they easily found a table for two near the front window.
A server promptly arrived and placed a bowl of water on the floor for Chester. “What a cute doggie.”
“Thanks. He’s spoiled rotten.”
“Then I guess you won’t mind if I bring him a doggie treat.”
“Chester will be your new best friend.”
The woman rattled off the daily specials.
“The chicken fajita wrap with seasoned rice sounds perfect,” Morgan said.
“I’ll take the same.” Elizabeth waited for her to jot down their order and walk away. “I’m glad you stopped by today. Tristan seems to be settling in.”
Morgan told her he had mentioned being nervous about starting school. “Brett is meeting with his teacher tomorrow morning and asked if I would go with him.”
“I suggested he call Tristan’s teacher. I see he took my comment to heart and is being proactive.” Elizabeth sipped her water. “I’m proud of how Brett is handling the situation. He seems to genuinely care for his son.”
“He does, although I’m sure there will be a few hiccups along the way.” Morgan crossed her fingers. “So far, so good.”
“Actually, I believe a hiccup has already popped up.”
“Quinn.”
Her grandmother nodded. “She’s been…reserved lately.”
“I noticed the same. I was going to talk to her but haven’t gotten around to it,” Morgan said. “Has Brett mentioned noticing?”
“No. I think he’s become so preoccupied with making sure Tristan is settling in, their relationship may have drifted to the wayside. Although I could be reading her wrong, I’ve been around Quinn enough and gotten to know her moods.”
“You’re not wrong.” Morgan absentmindedly jabbed a chunk of ice with her drink straw. “She probably needs a sympathetic ear. In the past, I would’ve been the first person she would have vented to.”
“But seeing how you’re Brett’s sister, she views you as having a conflict of loyalty and doesn’t want to drag you into the middle.”
“Yep.”
Elizabeth grew quiet, mulling over the situation. “Perhaps if you brought it up during a casual conversation, in a way she didn’t feel like she was being put on the spot.”
Morgan pulled her wallet from her purse.
She flipped it open and rifled through the stack of gift cards she’d gotten for Christmas until she found the one she was looking for.
She held it up. “This little gem right here you gave me for Christmas will work perfectly. Quinn has the afternoon off. I’ll send her a quick text. ”
Her friend promptly replied that she was cleaning house.
With a few back and forths and a brief phone call to schedule an appointment, Morgan arranged to meet Quinn at the designated location. “It’s all set. I’ll have enough time to take Chester home and still make it back to town for a special date day with my bestie.”