Page 45 of Easton Island

“She was,” the woman argued. “You saw her.”

Elizabeth muttered something unintelligible under her breath. She rose from her chair and walked over to where Prissy sat guarding the dish. “Doctor Rypma will be here later to discuss your medication. We’ll get it adjusted to where you don’t feel so anxious.”

“Okay.” Prissy relaxed her shoulders. “Breakfast was lovely. I’ll have to thank Mrs. Arnsby. I’m grateful to be here and appreciate all you’ve done to help me feel at home.”

In the blink of an eye, the confused, disoriented, rebellious Prissy was gone, and the calm, rational one had returned. It was as if, with the flip of a switch, she went from knowing everything going on around her to the complete opposite.

“My room is upstairs. I think I would like to watch television.” Prissy turned to Tristan. “Do you know where my room is?”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Can you show me how to get there?”

His eyes slid to the side, a questioning look on his face, as if to ask if it was okay.

“Go ahead,” Elizabeth said.

Morgan’s heart nearly melted while he patiently waited for her to eat the rest of her strawberry, still on her fork. She dabbed at her lips and placed her napkin next to her plate.

Prissy slowly stood, smiling at Tristan. “Such a gentleman.”

He slipped his small hand into hers.

The woman, shuffling and unsteady on her feet, held the hand of the young boy, mature beyond his years, as they walked side by side out of the dining room.

Morgan tiptoed to the door, rubbing the chill bumps on her arms, watching youth and old age climb the stairs, each grappling with their new home, and finding a kindred spirit as they navigated through the changes life had thrown their way.

“I may not have cared for Tristan’s mother, Addison. Despite her faults and lifestyle choices, she raised an exceptional son.”

Morgan turned to find her grandmother standing behind her. “She sure did. I would also say he has excellent genes and is an Easton through and through.”

Gerard stepped in beside them. “I hate to say it, but Prissy is in worse shape than I thought.”

Elizabeth sucked in a breath. “Something tells me we’re in for some rough days.”

“Based on what we just witnessed, I believe you’re right.” Morgan gave her grandmother a gentle hug. “We’re family, and we’ll get through this together. It’s how we Eastons roll.”

Chapter 20

Morgan rounded the corner of the house, coming to a full stop when she spotted Brett and Quinn staring, or more like glaring, at each other. Her brother stood ramrod straight while his girlfriend faced him, her fists clenched.

She tried sneaking away before being seen. It was too late. Brett glanced in her direction, his face taut and unsmiling.

“Don’t mind me.” Morgan held up her keys. “I’ll just scoot on out.”

“Let’s ask Morgan to help settle this.” Quinn spun on her heel and motioned to her. “Your brother is accusing me of flirting with Travis Mason, the guy from San Diego you met in the art gallery. You were there. Was I flirting?”

Morgan shrank back, an intentionally neutral expression on her face. The last thing she wanted was to be dragged into an argument between her brother and best friend. “He seemed…chatty and friendly.”

“But was I flirting with him?”

“You were friendly.” Morgan hemmed and hawed. “I’m not sure if I would call it flirting.”

“Friendly in a flirty way,” Brett said. “Clearly, Morgan noticed it as well.”

“I didn’t…”

Quinn's eyes flashed with anger. “I will not stand here and be accused when I’ve done nothing, and I do mean absolutely nothing wrong.” She flung her car door open and tossed her purse onto the passenger seat.