Page 56 of Easton Island: Old-Fashioned Christmas
Morgan rubbed her palms together. “This is both nerve-racking and exciting.”
“My stomach has been in knots,” Brett confessed. “Tristan and I spent the morning together. We went ice fishing, and then I showed him the boathouse. He’s excited to take the kayaks out.”
“I’ll have to warn him about Bird Island,” Morgan joked. “So, you’re thinking he’ll want to come and stay here at Easton Estate?”
Brett and Elizabeth exchanged a quick glance.
“Brett and I believe we may have come up with a workable plan for Tristanandhis uncle, who is rightfully concerned about relinquishing his responsibilities toward his nephew.”
“I don’t blame him. I mean, even though he wants to do the right thing, letting Tristan get to know his real father, we’re basically strangers in a strange place.”
“Which is why Grandmother and I think we’ve come up with an ideal solution.”
“Where are Jeff and Tristan?”
“In the library playing cards. I told them we would be there shortly, as soon as you got here,” Elizabeth said.
“What about Quinn?”
“She has mixed emotions about the whole thing and is insisting that although she’s my girlfriend, she’s technically not part of the family.” Brett told them he’d gone over the instruction sheet. “It’s a very simple reading, so without further ado…”
Brett’s hand trembled as he removed the pieces of paper from the envelope. “This test result is 99.99% accurate. If it reads 99.99%, it means Tristan is my son. If it reads zero percent, it means Tristan is not.”
Morgan could feel her grandmother, who stood on her right, instinctively stiffen her back, her expression stoic and guarded.
As if in slow motion, Brett flipped the page to the second sheet. Time stood still for a fraction of a second as he stared at the page. In true Easton style, he didn’t flinch, didn’t blink, merely stared at the paper.
“Brett, what is it?”
He handed it to his grandmother, an unreadable expression on his face. “Tristan is my son.”
A jumble of emotions engulfed Morgan. Excitement, joy, relief for the young boy because, to be honest, he had won the family lottery. Brett, Elizabeth and Morgan would do everything in their power to make Tristan feel welcome, loved, and a part of the Easton family.
“I knew it,” Elizabeth said. “Now what?”
Tears glimmered in Brett’s eyes. “I have a son,” he whispered. “Tristan doesn’t know the results were coming back today. I left it up to Jeff to decide how best to proceed.”
“And?”
“He wanted to hear the results first.”
“Shall we go tell them the good news?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes. The sooner, the better.”
Grandmother took the lead. Brett followed behind while Morgan brought up the rear.
It was only a few short steps from the office to the library down the hall. The door was wide open, and as they drew closer, Morgan could see Tristan and his uncle seated at the card table, a deck of cards between them.
“Who’s winning?” Brett asked.
“Tristan is kicking my butt,” Jeff joked. “I didn’t realize I had a card shark for a nephew.”
“He owes me ten dollars,” Tristan bragged. “I’m going to buy some more fishing bait so Brett and I can go ice fishing again.”
The trio gathered around the table, waiting for the game to end.
“Do you want to play, Aunt Morgan?”
