“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.
