“Are you hungry?” The cook swung the refrigerator door open. “We have leftover pork tenderloin and baby red potatoes with roasted green beans almondine…or mac ‘n cheese with a fried hamburger patty.”
“I’m guessing the latter was Tristan’s meal.”
“For the most part, he’s an adventurous eater but didn’t care for the pork tenderloin,” Mrs. Arnsby replied.
“If it’s not too much trouble, and knowing what a fabulous cook you are, I’ll take the pork.” Jeff slung his backpack over his shoulder.
“While the food is warming, I’ll go grab Tristan,” Morgan offered.
“Bring him to the library,” Elizabeth said. “We’ll meet you there.”
While Jeff, Wyatt, Elizabeth, and Gerard cut through the butler’s pantry, Morgan took the back stairs to the rear wing of the estate’s sleeping quarters. She found Tristan’s bedroom door ajar and gave it a light knock.
The door flew open. Her nephew and pup stood on the other side. “Hey, Aunt Morgan.”
“Hello, Tristan.” She absentmindedly patted Chester’s head. “Whatcha working on?”
“The model Mrs. Ainsworth…Great-grandmother gave me for Christmas.”
“Oh?” Morgan craned her neck. “How’s it going?”
“You can come and see.” Tristan darted to the desk Brett had purchased to give his son a place to do homework and tinker with his projects. It fit perfectly in the nook with a bay window overlooking the backyard.
Sitting in the center of the desk was a partially constructed space shuttle, the tiny pieces carefully glued in place. She let out a low whistle. “Good job.”
“Thanks. I’ll need a launchpad.”
“You can’t have a space shuttle without a launchpad.”
Tristan showed her the one he’d found online. “Jax has some stuff in his workshop and is gonna help me build one like this.”
“How cool,” Morgan said. “You’re very talented, Tristan.”
He fidgeted and gave her a sheepish grin. “Thanks. I already showed it to Brett. I can’t wait to show it to Uncle Jeff.”
“If you have a minute, Grandmother would like to chat with you down in the library.”
His eyes grew round as saucers. “I didn’t mean to scare Mrs. Arnsby when I went to the kitchen to get a snack.”
“You scared Mrs. Arnsby?” Morgan covered her mouth to hide her smile. “When did this happen?”
“Early this morning. She was making cinnamon rolls and didn’t see me.”
“I can assure you it has nothing to do with you and your early morning munching.” Morgan slung her arm over his shoulder and began leading him toward the door. “Have I mentioned how much you liven this place up?”
“Like make it more exciting?”
“Exciting and fun. I’m digging this Aunt Morgan gig.”
“You’re doing a good job,” Tristan replied in a most serious manner. “Dropping me off and picking me up from school and everything.”
Chester trotted ahead, taking the main staircase to the lower level that opened onto the front foyer. They reached the library and found the double doors wide open.
Gerard’s voice echoed, and Jeff replied.
Tristan stopped dead in his tracks. “Uncle Jeff.”
Jeff spun around, his face lighting up when he saw his nephew. “Tristan.”
