Page 2 of Sweet Surprise

Jillian leaned back in her seat and waved her glass at the youngest brother in the family. “Just because true love struck the first time out does not mean Mom would go along with us trying again. Not to mention she’s a rule follower and a pretend marriage to gain access to the trust could be considered fraud.”

“Not could be,” Carson interjected, “is.”

“She’s right.” Rachel pushed to her feet and crossed to the mini fridge at the bar. “Mom cannot know.”

Frustrated and tired, Carson stood as well. “I need to pick up an order from the feed store and then I’m meeting Chet Barker for lunch.”

“Chet? You haven’t seen him in years.”

“I know. His dad had a heart attack so Chet’s come home to see him. I think he’s suffering from a guilty conscience after moving so far away.”

“Hey, didn’t he have a rather pretty sister you were sweet on?” Rachel’s brows curled into a deep V.

Carson shrugged. He wasn’t exactly sweet on Carolyn Barker, but she was awfully easy on the eyes and her sense of humor could turn a bad day around. “I thought I’d catch up on how Carolyn’s doing. Maybe that could be an option.”

“Now you’re talking.” Jillian smiled. “Second chance at romance could work with Mom.”

Again, Carson shrugged. All the siblings had come to understand that unlike Sarah Sue, who agreed to marry Preston for the family, any woman—or man—who consented to be wed for a year was going to need at least some financial compensation. Maybe if he was lucky, Carolyn was not only single, but looking for an easy way to earn a down payment on a condo somewhere.

This couldn’t be happening. Jessica Pratt sat across from the doctor’s desk, waiting impatiently for the bad news. Ever since her ex had shown up drunk as a skunk, pounding on her door at the stroke of midnight, her world had turned even more upside down than it had been since Todd walked out on his family, cleaning out their bank accounts on the way to the divorce lawyer. She’d not wanted to let him in, but when he broke down crying on the other side of her door, muttering he was sick, how could she leave him out there?

Four cups of coffee later, she’d learned just how sick. Todd Pratt had Huntington’s disease. His dad had died at a young age from the illness, but he and his mother had hoped that showing no signs of it by the same age, Todd would not have inherited the dreadful gene. Apparently, hope wasn’t worth much.

It had taken her hours after he left to finally give up on getting any sleep. While she wanted nothing to do with the good-for-little ex-husband, he had given her a precious boy, and would need someone to look after him. His mother was young and had been through this once, and his sister was available to help, but Jessica couldn’t shake the guilt that despite his character flaws, she still felt sorry for him.

Of course, she didn’t get far with that internal debate when she began to worry about her own son. What if Mason had inherited the same ugly disease? The thought of her little boy someday having his life cut horribly short had her crying into her pillow for hours.

For the next few weeks, she went through the motions of day to day living, in the back of her mind debating what to do next. Of course, when the time came and Todd needed more care, she should step up and help the father of her only child. But, after finding herself more and more unsettled with each passing day, rumors were flying that layoffs were coming. She already struggled to keep up with expenses and feed her son, everything seemed so danged uncertain, and now this revelation hung over her like a guillotine waiting to fall. Finally she decided she couldn’t handle not knowing, was not the kind of person who could go through life just waiting for a genetic mutation to strike. Knowing if Mason carried the gene was better than waiting for the other shoe to fall.

Which brought her full circle to today. She’d found a specialist who agreed to do the testing on Mason. A simple process that she’d had to run up her credit card for, but it had to be done. The not knowing was eating away at her. The only challenge now was the phone call from the nurse. She could still hear the soft-spoken woman’s voice replaying in her head.

“Mrs. Pratt? Dr. Sullivan would like to discuss your son’s test results in person. When would you be available to come in?”

In person. What awful fate awaited Mason that Dr. Sullivan couldn’t simply say yes or no? Then her mind ran around with every worse case scenario from Mason was already showing symptoms she hadn’t noticed, to some other deadly disease was found in his genetic makeup. It hadn’t helped her nerves any that it had taken four weeks to get the initial consultation with Dr. Sullivan and now he was willing to squeeze her in anytime rather than wait.

Not able to stand another minute with her terrified imagination, she’d taken the afternoon off of work—if it cost her her job, so be it—and hurried to the doctor’s office. Two hours later she’d been moved from the lobby to his office, but was still waiting. In her lap, the confetti of tissue paper she’d methodically twisted and tugged, was the only visible sign of just how scared she was.

“Sorry for the delay, Mrs. Pratt.”

“I appreciate you squeezing me in like this.”

“Yes.” An older man with salt and pepper hair and just enough padding to be considered jolly, slid into his seat and opened a folder. Perusing through several pages, he pulled out a sheet and setting it in front of him, steepled his fingers. “I recently diagnosed your husband—”

“Ex-husband,” she interrupted.

“Yes. Ex-husband who has Huntington’s.”

She bobbed her head, willing herself to stop shredding what was left of the tissue in her hand.

“First of all, I am very happy to tell you that your son does not have any sign of inheriting the diseased gene.”

A thousand pound anvil slid away from her shoulders. “That’s wonderful news.” Except the doctor wasn’t smiling. “What else is wrong?”

The doctor picked up the paper in front of him. “Because I am your ex-husband’s physician, he agreed to have the same DNA testing done as we performed on your son.”

Again, her head nodded slowly.

“I don’t mean to be indiscreet, but are you aware that Mason is not your ex’s biological son?”

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