Page 28 of Easton Island: Old-Fashioned Christmas
Morgan climbed the stairs to the second floor. She made a sharp left and tiptoed toward her brother’s office door. She could hear his voice and gave the door a light rap.
A muffled thump echoed. The door opened. Brett, with cell phone in hand, appeared. “I’m on the phone,” he mouthed the words.
Morgan made a slicing motion across her neck. “Grandmother needs you downstairs.”
“Now?”
She nodded. “It’s urgent.”
“All right.” Brett returned to his call. “Unfortunately, I need to cut our call short. We finished most of our discussion and can wrap up the remaining minor details after the New Year. Yes. Yes. I look forward to working with you as well.”
Morgan waited for the call to end. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“It’s okay. It’s a deal I’ve been working on for a while now.” He plugged his phone into the charger. “Is it about the storm?”
“No. We have visitors.”
“Visitors?”
“Jeff and Tristan Blakely are downstairs.”
Brett’s head shot up. “Blakely?”
“Addison Blakely’s brother and her son.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. They’re downstairs in the library with Grandmother.”
Brett muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Making long strides, he reached the door and stepped into the hall.
Morgan struggled to keep up with his quick pace. Down the hall and center stairway they went.
Reaching the main level, they found the library door ajar.
Morgan followed her brother inside. For a fraction of a second, time stood still. Jeff Blakely, Tristan Blakely, Elizabeth, Morgan and Brett all stood staring at each other.
Finally, Elizabeth spoke. “Hello, Brett. We have visitors.” She introduced them. “Mr. Blakely is claiming Tristan is your son.”
“My son?”
Jeff reached into his shirt pocket, removed a folded note and handed it to him. “I found this after my sister, Addison, passed away.”
Brett took the note from him and silently read the contents, his expression unreadable. “Addison and I divorced years ago after a brief marriage.”
“Very brief,” Elizabeth added.
“Addison became pregnant with Tristan during that time. We’re willing; actually, I would like a DNA test to confirm this.”
“Of course.” Brett handed the note back. “Why didn’t she let me know, contact me to tell me I had a son?”
Jeff glanced at his nephew. “I’m not sure Tristan needs to be involved in this part of our conversation.”
“I agree.” Elizabeth motioned toward the door. “Can I offer you a soda or a bite to eat? I’m sure Mrs. Arnsby has plenty of food, something you can snack on while your uncle and Brett chat.”
Tristan looked at his uncle, seeking permission. Jeff gave a small nod of his head. “Go ahead.”
“I’ll go with you.” Morgan hurried after the two and stepped into the hall.
