Page 1 of Easton Island: Old-Fashioned Christmas
Chapter 1
Morgan picked up the embossed invitation with a watercolor rendition of Locke Pointe etched on the front, evoking images of Christmases past—the holly wreaths, the Scotch pine tree with twinkling red, blue and green lights. Even her pup, Chester, made an appearance, posing near the top of the porch steps.
She absentmindedly set the invitation to the Locke Village business owners’ open house aside and ran her fingertip over the photo of her grandparents’ beloved home, the edges tattered and faded from age. Ann and Joseph Locke, dressed from head to toe in their winter weather finery, stood in almost the same spot as Chester. A blanket of snow covered the ground. Wreaths similar to those displayed on Morgan’s invitation hung from the porch posts.
More than anything, she wished she could go back in time and spend Christmas with her mother and grandparents, to share the holiday and be immersed in the Locke family traditions, even if only for a few hours.
“Knock, knock.”
Morgan lifted her head and found Ronni Lansbury, Locke Pointe Bed-and-Breakfast’s manager, standing in the doorway. “Got a minute?”
“Sure. C’mon in.”
Ronni waltzed across the office, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Her smile vanished when she noticed the family photos spread out on the desk and the melancholy expression on Morgan’s face. “You’re feeling down in the dumps again, missing your mom and grandparents?”
“As much as I love the holidays, I’ll be the first to admit they make me sad.”
“They make me sad too.” Her mother’s best friend embraced her in a warm hug. “I miss Laura…miss her funny little laugh and our long talks late into the night. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her and wish she were still alive.”
Morgan swiped at a tear trailing down her cheek, overwhelmed by the feeling of loss that had been building. Laura loved Christmas, loved decorating the tree, baking cookies, and hosting her holiday parties at the art gallery.
Despite the fact that for many years it had been just the two of them, she had a way of making the holidays extra special for her only child. “I want to carve out new memories, but the harder I try, the more I feel like I’m spinning my wheels.”
“Because no matter what you do, it won’t be good enough.”
“Exactly.”
Ronni gave Morgan’s arm a gentle nudge. “I guess this means you didn’t order those ornaments online for the living room tree.”
“Nope.” It had been barely over a year since Morgan’s mother’s sudden death. The previous Christmas had been rough. Although thrilled to have found her grandmother and brother, making plans to spend the special holiday on Easton Island with her newfound family, she still mourned her mom’s death, and her grief lingered long after she had put the decorations away.
Time, they say, heals all wounds. In Morgan’s case, the hurt was still there, although the unbearable pain had become more of a dull ache. Life had moved on, sometimes in a slow and steady ebb and flow, while at other times the days flew by.
So much had happened. Divorcing Jason. Moving to Easton Island. Inheriting Locke Pointe. Finding the Shifting Sands Medallion. Falling in love with Wyatt Dawson, an Easton Island police officer. Grandmother Elizabeth had married Gerard Ainsworth.
Thanksgiving had been a celebration of all things new, of family, of Morgan counting her many blessings. This year, despite feeling sad, she was looking forward to Christmas, her favorite holiday.
Not only looking forward to it, but determined to honor and embrace the memories, with the focal point being Locke Pointe.
Ronni had summed it up perfectly. The harder Morgan tried, the more difficult it was becoming. Or maybe she was being overly picky. The decorations were too generic. The television shows too cliché. What it boiled down to was she longed for a good old-fashioned Christmas. Eggnog, caroling through the neighborhoods, and driving around town looking at the pretty lights.
She also wanted Locke Pointe to shine, for guests to walk through the door and stop in their tracks, their breath taken away, like taking a step back in time when life was simpler, what she remembered the holidays being like when she was a child, although Morgan barely remembered her grandparents and had no recollection of ever visiting Locke Pointe.
Laura had fled to Florida when Morgan was a young child…not only fled, but kept Easton Island and her family a secret until her death. Morgan had never blamed her mother. She understood the circumstances and reasons behind it.
“I want to start new-old traditions,” she said. “If that makes sense. Unfortunately, I’m running out of time. The Locke Villageopen house is only hours away. I might need to run to the mainland tomorrow and grab what I can get.”
“Maybe not. I have a surprise for you.” Ronni crooked her finger. “Come with me.”
Morgan popped out of her chair and followed the woman down the long hall to the basement stairs. They reached the bottom and found Greg, her handyman, waiting for them.
“Did you tell her?”
“Nope.” Ronni grabbed a flashlight and handed it to her. “Your surprise is over in the corner.”
Morgan cast her a puzzled look. With flashlight in hand, she cautiously made her way across the room, zigzagging past pieces of furniture wrapped in plastic, pieces belonging to her grandparents she didn’t have the heart to part with and hoped to find a good home for one day. “What am I looking for?”
“The boxes in the corner.”
