“What did you tell them?”
“I live at Easton Estate, and they wanted to know what it was like.”
“Living in the house?” Morgan asked.
“Yep. I told them it was cool. I got to ride snowmobiles and go fishing for the first time.” Tristan started to say something and stopped.
“What were you going to say?”
He wiggled in his seat, looking uncomfortable. “I heard a couple of the girls who were sitting behind me in class whispering about the Eastons, saying they were snooty.”
“Grandmother might be a little old-fashioned and formal, but I would never call her snooty.” Morgan cast him a sideways glance. “Doyouthink we’re snooty?”
“No. Maybe they don’t know you.”
“I would say not. Having you attend school here might be a good thing. You can help improve the Easton family’s tarnished image,” she joked. “Let islanders know we aren’t bad people. What about after-school activities? Did you see anything that sounded fun?”
Tristan brightened. “They have an archery club. I’ve never shot an arrow.” His excitement didn’t last long. “It’s after school, and someone would have to pick me up.”
“I’m sure this wouldn’t be a problem. Brett, me, Ben Baker. There will always be someone who can give you a ride,” Morgan said.
“I never got to do after-school stuff because Mom never had time to come and get me.”
“Whatever club you decide to join, we’ll work it out,” she promised.
“I’ll sign up tomorrow. If I don’t like it, I can always quit.”
“Don’t go into it with a quitting attitude,” she lectured. “I’m sure it will take some practice to get the hang of shooting straight.”
Tristan tugged on his coat sleeve. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Fire away.”
“Why doesn’t Quinn like me?”
Morgan studied his face. “What makes you think she doesn’t like you?”
“Because Brett and I are doing stuff together.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Morgan paused, choosing her words carefully. “Quinn likes you, but she doesn’t know you. Maybe we need to invite her to hang out more.”
During the rest of the ride home, Tristan shared tidbits about his day, and as he talked it became increasingly clear Brett’s son would have a few bumps along the way. She hoped it wouldn’t last long and that he would transition smoothly.
The only dark clouds on the horizon had already been whispered behind Tristan’s back. The Easton family’s name. And Quinn’s attitude. Morgan had picked up on it. So had her nephew. Unless things changed, some larger issues would need to be resolved—for Brett, QuinnandTristan.
Chapter 21
Mrs. Arnsby bustled across the room and met Morgan and Tristan at the door. “How did it go?”
“I might have a new friend.” Tristan dropped his backpack on the barstool, his attention laser-focused on the fresh-from-the-oven batch of chocolate chip cookies sitting on top of the stove. “Cookies?”
“Your favorite.” The cook removed a glass of cold milk from the fridge and set it on the counter. “I thought you might like to celebrate your first day.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Arnsby.” He hugged her tightly, knocking her off balance in his enthusiasm.
“You’re welcome.” She hugged him back. “The house was way too quiet without you.”
“I’m home now.”
