Page 62 of Easton Island

“I do, but we can talk about it later, after we celebrate the wonderful news of your engagement.” Morgan promptly texted her grandmother, Gerard, Wyatt, Brett, Quinn, Mrs. Arnsby, and Ben, inviting them, along with Prissy, to a pizza party at Looking Glass Cottage.

She sent a separate text to Brett and Elizabeth, suggesting that they meet after dinner to go over the real estate group’s proposal.

The texts flew back and forth, fast and furious, quickly confirming a six o’clock pizza party. Morgan checked her watch. It was twenty ‘til three and almost time to head to the school. “Shall we?”

“Let’s roll.”

Falling into step, the women meandered across the yard and climbed in her SUV for the short jaunt to Easton Harbor.

“This is a nice school.” Harlow whistled loudly. “Let me guess. All the kids are in the same building, similar to the school on Mackinac Island.”

“From kindergarten up to twelfth grade.” Morgan pulled alongside the curb.

“Do you think we should get out?” Harlow asked. “If I’m making an appearance, we’ll want to get the most bang for our buck.”

“Duh. Of course we do.” Checking for traffic, Morgan steered her vehicle out of the pickup line and turned into the parking lot.

She and Harlow exited her vehicle and strolled along the sidewalk. Several other parents lingered near the benches and outdoor seating, some chatting while others stared at their phones.

Within moments, a hush fell over the crowd and all eyes turned toward them.

Morgan spun around, her back to the others, and mouthed the words, “It’s working.”

Harlow winked, a broad smile spreading across her face. She casually glanced at her watch.

Buzz. Buzz. Her cell phone rang. “Crud. It’s my publicist, Janice. I need to take this call.”

“We still have a few minutes before school lets out.”

“Be right back.” Harlow hurried off and stood a few feet away, talking in a low voice.

Morgan felt a light tug on her arm. She turned to find Anna-Marie, an islander who volunteered at the animal shelter, standing behind her. “Is that who I think it is?” she whispered in a loud voice.

Feeling mischievous, Morgan played dumb. “Who?”

“Harlow Wynn.”

“It can’t be,” another woman smugly replied. “Why would she be on Easton Island? I heard she bought a place over on Mackinac Island.”

“It’s Harlow. She popped over to surprise her young friend, Tristan Blakely.”

The murmurs grew louder.

Harlow returned. “Sorry about that.”

“Ms. Wynn.” A woman, in her thirties if Morgan had to guess, elbowed her way through the cluster of people who stood gawking at them. “Do you mind if I snap a selfie?”

“Not at all.” Harlow ran her fingers through her hair and leaned in, posing for the photo.

“Me next.”

The islanders lined up, snapping photos and chatting with Harlow. She graciously spoke to each of them, answering questions and repeating that she was there to surprise her young friend, Tristan.

The bell rang. Less than a minute later, the doors opened, and students began pouring out.

It didn’t take long for the parents to spread the word, and the crowd grew. Students began crowding around Harlow, peppering her with questions while others snapped photos.

Finally, Tristan shuffled out of the building, moving at a snail’s pace.