Chapter 4
“This is pure bliss.” Morgan sighed, relaxing her shoulders as the massage therapist rubbed her temples using lavender and wild orchid oil.
“I can’t remember the last time I visited a spa,” Quinn murmured.
“It was back when we lived in Florida.”
“Grandmother knows how to pick out the most amazing gifts.” Morgan leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “After the crazy holiday we had, we deserve it.”
“It was a whirlwind. The blizzard, my parents’ visit, the open house. A shocking whirlwind.”
Quinn had given Morgan the perfect opening. “Because of Tristan and Jeff Blakely?”
“I…yes. It’s been an adjustment.”
“Which is an understatement. A major change for all of us, but I’m sure especially for you.” Morgan motioned to the masseuse. “Do you mind if we have a minute alone?”
“Of course not.” The pair who had been pampering the friends, discreetly excused themselves, leaving the women alone.
Morgan shifted to face her friend, and her heart plummeted. Despite the calming massage, Quinn’s expression was a mixture of sadness mingled with defeat. “Are you okay?”
“I’m struggling.”
“With Tristan,” Morgan said softly.
“Not with Tristan because he seems like a great kid. The problem is that I feel like…” Quinn’s voice faded.
“You’re not sure how you fit into Brett’s life now. He’s focusing his attention on his son, trying to help him adjust.”
“Yes. I hate to admit it because it makes me sound selfish, but I feel like the odd man…odd woman out.”
Morgan let her legs dangle over the side of the table. Placing both elbows on her knees, she gave her closest friend her undivided attention. “Tristan showing up on Easton Estate’s doorstep was a curveball to rival all curveballs.”
“You can say that again.”
“It’s been an adjustment for all of us—you, Brett, Tristan, Grandmother, me. Even the Easton Estate staff. This is merely my two cents, but I think if we focus on taking it a day at a time, it won’t seem so overwhelming.”
“One day at a time,” Quinn breathed. “Maybe I’m jumping too far ahead, trying to predict what the future holds.
I want to be supportive but not intrusive, if this makes sense.
I keep reminding myself that I need to be patient and give it time.
Between working and trying to help Tristan, Brett doesn’t have a lot of time for me… for us.”
Morgan, careful not to smear goop on her friend’s bathrobe, embraced her in a gentle hug. “Brett loves you. You love him. The most important thing we can do at this stage is to be patient and supportive. How we react today sets the stage for the future.”
Gripping the sides of the table, Quinn stared at the ceiling, fighting back the tears. “You’re right. I need to focus on helping Brett and Tristan.”
“Exactly. You’re one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I know. Brett is blessed beyond measure to have you by his side.”
“I feel the same about him. I’m proud of how he’s stepped up and taken responsibility.”
“You have a good guy, Quinn, and I’m not just saying this because he’s my brother.”
Quinn swiped at her damp eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
“Anytime. We were friends long before you and I moved to Easton Island,” Morgan reminded her. “We’ve been through a lot together. You’ve helped me and been by my side through thick and thin. We’ll get through this.”
The staff returned and during the rest of the treatments, Morgan kept the conversation light, talking about the new year, the Wynn Harbor Inn project on Mackinac Island and how she planned a tentative trip to Florida to break up the long Michigan winter.
All too soon, their pampering ended, and the friends found themselves standing on the sidewalk.
“What are your plans for the rest of today?” Morgan asked.
“Brett took Tristan fishing. I finished cleaning house.” Quinn shrugged. “Nothing.”
“One of Harlow’s recent movies is playing at the theater.” Morgan listed the name of the movie. “I haven’t seen it.”
“Me neither.” The friends fell into step, making a quick trek down the main street until they reached the theater. Unfortunately, the next showing wasn’t for another hour. To kill time, they went back to Quinn’s cottage and hung out.
While they waited, Brett sent a text to Quinn, a snapshot of Tristan holding a fish, with a wide smile lighting his face. Proud papa stood next to him. She showed Morgan the picture. “Looks like the father / son bonding day is going well.”
“Good for them. Tristan and I went sledding this morning.”
“On the hill out behind Locke Pointe?”
“Yep. He had a blast. I’ve nicknamed it Dead Man’s Drop Junior. He’s a little nervous about being the new kid at school.”
“Not only the new kid but an Easton,” Quinn said. “I wonder how many children attend school here on the island.”
“That’s an excellent question.” Morgan accessed the internet on her phone and typed the question in the search bar. “According to this article, there are forty-five kids enrolled.”
Quinn wrinkled her nose. “That’s not very many.”
“And they’re combined classes. Tristan is ten, so he would still be in the elementary school group.” Morgan told her Brett planned to meet with his teacher the following morning. “He asked me to go with him.”
“He did?” Quinn looked away, but not before Morgan noticed the look of disappointment.
“Do you think he should have asked you instead?”
“You don’t know anything about kids, so I’m not sure why he would ask you.”
“Neither do you.” The sharp reply slipped from Morgan’s lips.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Look—this is all uncharted territory.
We already talked about this. Brett is winging it.
I’m winging it…we’re all winging it. I ran into him when I dropped Tristan off.
He told me he was meeting Tristan’s teacher and asked me to go along.
I don’t think he’s intentionally leaving you out. ”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound snippy.”
“No worries.” Morgan glanced at the clock. “And on that note, our bestie bonding continues. We should get going if we want to snag primo seats for the movie.”
The rest of the afternoon was like old times, when Quinn and Morgan hung out together. Outings on Easton Island were spontaneous but occasionally needed more advanced planning and many times depended on the weather.
Perhaps it was a combination of the cozy island atmosphere and the fact that, as opposed to their former home which offered almost endless entertainment options, Easton Island’s activities were limited, unless you planned around the outdoors—cross-country skiing, snowmobiling, ice fishing, ice skating, sledding.
Would Brett and Quinn’s relationship survive the drastic and dramatic changes taking place? Only time would tell. Morgan hoped more than anything the innocent child wouldn’t inadvertently get caught in the middle of a hostile environment.