The Old Man and His Tree

Three Days Later

"Mister Jones?" I heard after three soft knocks. Julia, the blonde nurse who had first found me, walked in with a folder in her hand.
"I keep telling you, Mister Jones was my father. Call me Chet."
"Fine, Chet, I have some news for you!" She said, a big smile on her face. I looked up at her with a single eyebrow raised.
"I can finally go home because my MRI's came back clean?" I asked hopefully.
"Not exactly. Doctor Morrison still wants you to wait until we can either make you better or find a family member."
"There's no way, I keep tellin him my Son and Granddaughter took off long ago, and I doubt they're still even alive."
"Well, that's the thing." She laid the folder in front of me and nodded for me to open it. I did, and my jaw almost fell off.
"Wh...what?" Inside was a set of images of a young man in his late 20's who was a spitting image of myself and my son at his age. I looked up at her in confusion.
"Turns out you have a grandson. He's 29, married, has his own bike shop, and they have three kids. My fiancee and him have drinks together every friday night. He's a huge figure head in the community, what with volunteering his time and such. Everyone knows him. He looks a hell of a lot like you 40 years ago and you have the same last name. He's the only link we've found, but it sure seems like we found a family member." She smiled.
I couldn't speak.
I couldn't think.
I just stared at the image for what felt like an eternity.
"What's his name?" I asked, looking up at her.
"Aaron Jones. He's been searching for his family, since apparently his father dumped him off at a police station when he was 5. Do you want us to call him in, see if he's a DNA match?" She asked, hope in her eyes. I nodded slowly, still in such shock.
"I want a test. I need to know. And if he is, I need answers." I replied. She nodded and disappeared from the room.
A grandson that I had no idea about, around the same age my granddaughter would be. My son the man whore, going around and nailing anything with legs.
Why the hell would he leave this poor kid at a police station at 5? What had this kid done to deserve it? Not a damn thing.
I couldn't wait to meet him, just to see what the kid was like and if maybe he knew what happened to his sister and father. I could tell him and his children about their family tree.
Maybe, if he was willing to even just stop by, we could get that bit of closure that I'm sure we both needed.
I was just so damn proud of him already, even if I knew so little and wasn't even sure if he was my grandson.
Who was I kidding?
Blue eyes
Black hair
The smile
The build
He was one of my family, and I was more excited than I should be about meeting him.