Page 46 of Easton Island: Old-Fashioned Christmas
“Maybe because we’ve both been in a similar situation, losing our mothers and feeling adrift, although I was a lot older than Tristan when Mom died.”
“Brett mentioned again having you chat with the boy. Of course, not this morning but maybe later today after things settle down and our other houseguests depart.”
“Prissy and Naomi,” Morgan guessed.
“Correct.”
“I’ll be happy to, but I agree it would be best to wait until the others are gone.”
“With Brett’s connections, we’ll have the results within the next 48 hours.”
“So, decisions will have to be made,” Quinn said.
“The sooner the better.”
Quick steps echoed, and Mrs. Arnsby appeared. “Breakfast is almost ready. The estate guests are trickling into the dining room.”
Elizabeth finished her coffee and stood. “We’ll open presents after we eat.”
Morgan ran upstairs to freshen up and by the time she reached the dining room, she found the other guests already seated. “Merry Christmas, everyone.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Breakfast was a lively affair with an array of perfectly prepared dishes—scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, homemade waffles, a bowl of mixed fruit, toast, and even eggs benedict, one of Morgan’s favorite dishes.
Halfway through the meal, the power came back on and everyone cheered loudly.
While they ate, the guests took turns guessing how many feet of snow Easton Island had gotten overnight.
Sledding, snowmobiling and even cross-country skiing were on the table for afternoon activities, except for Mary, Naomi and Prissy, who all planned to leave that morning, insisting they wanted to check on their homes.
After finishing, Morgan and Quinn pitched in to help Mrs. Arnsby clean up, having given the other staff members the day off. Making quick work of the task, they had the kitchen shipshape in no time.
Gathering in the formal living room, Quinn volunteered to wear Santa’s hat and pass out the gifts. Elizabeth had gone all out, buying presents not only for her grandchildren and staff, but for their unexpected guests. Candles and spa products for the women and multi-tools along with local gift cards—from Bean Brewing and Danish Delight Bakery—for Tristan’s uncle.
Quinn carried a bulky box over to the boy and set it on the floor in front of him. “This is for you.”
Tristan read the tag aloud, “Merry Christmas. Brett, Elizabeth, Gerard, and Morgan.”
Using both hands, he ripped the paper off and lifted the lid. Inside was a mini drone, along with a sketchpad and colored pencils, a model space shuttle launch kit ready for assembly and some other smaller gifts.
“This is cool.” Tristan’s eyes lit. “How did you know I like to draw and put models together?”
“Your uncle helped pick out your presents,” Elizabeth said. “The drone was a last-minute impulse purchase on my part.Easton Estate has ample wide open spaces for you to practice flying it.”
“Thank you.” Tristan set the box aside and darted across the room. He reached for Elizabeth’s hand but changed his mind and impulsively hugged her. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”
“It’s all right.” Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I’m glad you like what you got.”
“Can I try flying the drone now?”
“Sure.” Jeff folded the ends of the box. “Let’s put the gifts away first.”
Tristan packed up his treasures. “I’ll take these to my room.”
Jeff lingered, watching his nephew scamper off. “Thank you for making the holiday special for Tristan.”
“You’re welcome.” Elizabeth offered him a small smile. “Brett helped me with the gifts.”
