Love-Lost & Found

As the waitress approached the table, eighteen year old "Tony" was apprehensive. He was a freshman at the University of Georgia, with an untested fake ID in his wallet showing him to be two months past his twenty-first birthday. The fake ID identified him as one Tony Mercer. His real name was Howard Jaimeson, but his friends called him Howie.

His two older buddies, Tom and Frank, both of legal age, assured him the phony ID was more than adequate. His friends were right; the waitress scanned all three of their ID's before handing them back without comment.

Howard actually look older than his true age. He was of mixed heritage, his dad was a Caucasian, while his pretty mother was a beautiful mixture of African American and Cherokee Indian. Of the two, Howard took after his father more so being fair skinned, although he received his mom's dark hair which he kept short and neatly trimmed at all times. He was built bigger than his father though as he was just over six feet tall while weighing a solid two hundred pounds.

Many people remarked how closely he resembled his older brother, Holden, if only in the looks department, which rarely pleased him as he didn't really care for his older sibling.

From the very beginning, Howard aka Tony, found himself smitten with their waitress, Vanessa. She was an older, his guess maybe early to mid-thirties, light skinned, well put together, African- American beauty. As she served them throughout the night she was more than a little flirtatious with the boys, but most especially toward the well-mannered Howard.

After bringing them yet another round of beers, their fourth if anyone was bothering to keep track, she was in the process of clearing the table when she accidently knocked over one of the half full beer bottles. It was just the two of them with Howard's buddies over at the bar talking to a couple girls.

"Oh God, I'm sorry. I'm so clumsy," she said offering an apologetic smile.

"It's OK," Howard quickly replied as his eyes slipped off her face and travelled inadvertently downward.

Howard wasn't lying-- it really was OK as he was treated to a most delicious sight. Leaning over in front of Howard while patiently wiping up the spill, she appeared oblivious to the way he was gazing at her. There was plenty to gawk at as the snug, light colored blouse Vanessa was wearing showed off a pair of rather sizable tits.

Howard wanted to avert his eyes, but it was, at first, difficult, and then nearly impossible, once it became patently obvious Vanessa's large tits were unencumbered by a bra.

Later on, as Howard told his tale of the spilled beer to Tom and Frank, along with describing in glowing terms her braless tits, they both went as far as to suggest she spilled the beer on purpose as a way of flirting with him. The self-effacing Howard wasn't buying it, but it was a nice thought regardless.

As the mid- September night wore on, Howard generously tipped Vanessa, while treating her with extreme politeness—unlike his two older buddies who were both a bit crass with her.

He considered asking for her number, but in the end decided against it mainly because he figured a beautiful older women like herself would not be interested in someone so young. Besides, if he was to ask her out would he do so as the twenty-one year old fake Tony, or the eighteen year old real Howard?

In the end, it all became too much to think about so he did the easiest thing possible—nothing.

It seemed fate was on his side though as they ran into each other a few short days later. It's was a lazy Wednesday afternoon when Howard wandered into the restaurant side of the Bulldog to have lunch after finishing a late morning class.

Much to his delight, she was waiting tables in his section, and surprisingly enough, remembered him from the other night. The restaurant was slow, and after bringing him his food she plopped down on the chair across from him and they struck up a pleasant conversation.

Howard made a snap decision to keep up the charade of being the fake older Tony. He was reluctant, as of yet, to reveal his ID from the other night was a fraud, especially after learning she was twenty nine, unmarried, and didn't drop any hints of having a boyfriend. Somehow their age difference of only eight years with him being the fake Tony seemed better than the alternative—telling the truth.

After discovering she was also taking classes at U of G, majoring in English, which just happened to be his worse subject, he screwed up enough courage to suggest maybe they could meet one day in the library for a quick tutoring session.

After adding he could pay her a little something, her pleasant reply caught him off-guard. "Or maybe, instead of paying me you could just treat me to lunch here or there, and then if you manage to get a good grade this semester a nice dinner."

Over the course of the next month, they met for several tutoring sessions and after the second one she graciously allowed him to take her out to lunch.

The one lunch turned into a nearly weekly affair with him still keeping with being the older "Tony". Pretending to be older, and someone else, was actually giving Howard a stronger sense of self-confidence to handle dating this attractive older woman.

Other than using a fake name and age, Howard was himself with her—a perfectly charming young Southern gentlemen, amiable, a bit on the shy side, and abidingly polite. It seemed to be working, although he knew, sooner or later, if things continued to go well, he would have to reveal the truth to her.

Maybe because she was such a good tutor, or maybe just because he wanted to impress her, he put a lot of time and effort into his English course and ended up with a final grade of B. They celebrated his good grade with dinner at an Italian restaurant in downtown Athens.

After dinner, they ended up back at her place alone. Her roommate was out of town visiting family allowing Howard the hope this might be the night he finally would lose his virginity. God knew he hoped so as Vanessa looked ravishing in a short white dress emphatically tight enough in all the right places to show off her abundant curves.

Cuddling together on the old fashioned swing on her front porch they enjoyed the warm late autumn evening while sharing a glass of lemonade generously spiked with some kind of alcohol. Howard's eyes keep darting to her chest mainly because before they headed out to the porch, Vanessa excused herself to go slip into something a bit more comfortable. Her new comfortable attire consisted of a pair of cut off blue jeans shorts, along with a tight red and gray University of Georgia tee shirt.

After sharing a second, and even more potent lemonade, somehow, someway, he found himself making out with this goddess of dark beauty. His first kisses were clumsy at best, but Vanessa said little, instead showed him a kind, motherly patience which only served to turn him on all the more.

During a prolonged kiss, Howard took a chance, snaking his tongue deep inside her mouth (she tasted delicious), while brushing his hands up against her breasts (they felt pleasantly full). Vanessa offered him a whimsical smile as she took his hand and led him into the house.

Settling down on the couch in the living room, they shared several more breathless kisses during which he groped, with growing eagerness, at those large tits of hers. His hands slipped around to her back, and then under her tee shirt with his inexperienced fingers fumbling at trying to get her bra undone. She allowed his muddling about for a short moment or two before pushing his hands away.

With an exaggerated primness she admonished him for trying to undo her bra. "And here I thought you were such a perfect gentlemen Mr. Tony. I guess my tits are too much for even this gentlemen to resist huh?"

"Sorry Vanessa. Guess I got carried away." His face flushed as in the semi-dark living room he failed to notice her devilishly smile.

"Turn the lamp on," she whispered. "I need to tell you something serious."

Howard sighed. Surely he blew it if she wanted the lights on now.

He flicked the switch on the lamp to find Vanessa smiling at him. "I just wanted you to turn the light on for a second so you could see how serious what I have to say really is."

When she said nothing for a long moment, instead just sitting there with a sly smile on her pretty face he asked quietly, "So what did you have to say to me that is so serious?"

"Oh nothing much . . . just this." His eyes grew wide as—unbelievably-- she pulled her tee shirt over her head before casually tossing it to the side.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered. Her white lace trimmed bra was adorned with small red roses scattered over the immense cups and looked ultra-sexy on her.

"This should make it a bit easier for you to, you know, take off my bra."

They begin a series of adoring kisses as he struggled to undo the triple clasps in the back of her bra. He managed to get the first two undone, and was struggling with the third, when her phone chirped from somewhere nearby.

"Oh Christ what timing. Let me turn that damn thing off, hon. Just hold on a minute."

Vanessa stretched out retrieving her phone from the nearby coffee table. "Damn, it's my sister. I better take this. Sorry."

Howard heart shrank, along with his cock, as he listened to her side of the conversation. It was clearly not good news.

"My mom, she is in the hospital. A stroke. I really need to go," Vanessa said her voice breaking.

Howard retrieved her tee shirt and handed it to her while trying not to think of what might have been. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, I don't think so. Just call me later," she said before kissing him quickly on the cheek.

The stroke was bad leaving Fiona dependent on her daughter for nearly all her basic needs. Vanessa was forced to drop out of Georgia and move back to Holmfeld, a small town roughly forty miles northeast of Athens, where her mom lived.

Much to his relief, they continued to stay in contact talking on the phone a couple times a week after she moved away. He was smitten with her now more than ever.

It was during a late night phone call, a few week later, when their relationship took a turn. They had just started their conversation when she sighed heavily, "Well I guess it's time I told you the truth. You have been so good to me so you deserve nothing less than the truth. When we first met I told you I was only twenty nine, well, I tell everyone that little lie. The truth is I am thirty four years old. I meant to tell you sooner of my little hang up about admitting that I am over thirty, but I guess I just never got around to it. I hope you are not too mad at me?"

He sighed. Now it would be his turn as he had been given an opening as wide as the Mississippi to bring up his own little white lie.

"You know Vanessa, I have a similar confession of my own. Remember that night at the bar when we first met and I showed you my ID. It was a fake."

"I thought it looked sort of fishy but you were so polite so I let it slide. And then since you didn't bring it up the next time we ran into each other I thought I was wrong or you would have told me. So your name is not Tony, huh? Maybe its Prince Charming instead."

Pleasantly surprised by her lighted hearted answer he told her everything. "Actually, it's Howard and I'm eighteen, soon to be nineteen in a few months anyways and things were going so good between us I . . . shit I just didn't want to take a chance and mess anything up by telling you how young I really was. I was going to tell you . . . eventually. It was just I didn't think you would want to keep hanging out with me if you knew my true age."

"I suppose I can't be too mad or complain as I was kind of using the same excuse about things going good so why rock the boat and reveal my true age. So we are both guilty of the same crime. That is too funny huh?"

"Yeah," he sighed still not one hundred percent sure she was OK with him being only eighteen.

"So tell me Howard, the ID as I recall said your address was in Athens. Is that true at least?"

"Yes, that part is true. Originally, I guess I never told you this, I'm from Brandenberry."

Brandenberry was another small town in Georgia not far from Holmfeld and about a good half hour's drive from Athens.

"Really, my mom worked in Brandenberry when I was a teenager. So are you going to tell me your real last name or is that a secret?"

"It's Jaimeson," he told her.

"Wait . . . Your last name is Jaimeson and you're from Brandenberry?"

Yes, I--"

"Your father's name, is it Arthur? Does he have a son named Holden?"

After he answered yes to both questions the phone went silent for several long moments before she spoke again, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

"Can you tell me your birthday Howard?"

"Sure, I guess I better so you can buy me a nice present."

"Just tell me please," she whispered.

Howard hesitated before speaking. It sounded weirdly desperate the way she was demanding to know his birthday. Just after he told her, the phone went dead.

He tried to call back right away, thinking there was maybe something wrong with the line, but she wasn't picking up, nor did she pick up for the next several days either. Howard was baffled about what happened. Maybe she decided eighteen was too young for her after all.

Finally, after three days she sent him a short text.

Howard-- I need some time and space to figure things out. Please understand. I can't say anything more at this time and please don't try and contact me.

Howard was baffled by the turn of events but, not wanting to come on too strong, gave her the space she wanted. It would be nearly two years before they spoke again.

Fiona eventually passed away due to complications from her stroke allowing Vanessa to return to Athens after almost two years. After enrolling at the university, she made a determined effort to look up Howard, knowing she, at the very least, owed him the truth.

After tracking him down, he was still taking classes at Georgia, and was now a junior, they met for lunch. Things were at first a bit awkward as Vanessa refused to go into detail of what happened but finally, toward the end of their lunch, just as he was near bursting with curiosity, she made a startling confession. The story behind the shocking truth as she told it would break his heart.

"My mother worked at the Jaimeson estate for a long time, your family's estate and when I got older, into my teens, I used to go there and help my mother out doing odd little chores and stuff. Anyways, Holden, he was quite a bit older than me, in his early twenties, I think and he liked me."

Howard interjected quietly, "I know he is my brother and stuff, but honestly I really don't like Holden. He is a jerk."

"Yeah, you might like him even less when I am done, but for now please no more questions or comments. I need to just get through this."

"Sure," Howard said. He tried to reach out and take her hand but she pulled back.

"OK, so Holden, he liked to flirt with me and stuff, always making crass jokes that I, being young, foolishly giggled at maybe encouraging him a bit. Actually, I thought he was cute and kind of funny even if he was a bit crass."

Vanessa paused to collect her thoughts. The really difficult part of her confession was coming up. "It was during one of those times when I was there helping her that it happened. My mom was off on some errand that would take a while and no one else was there but me. Holden came home and began to flirt with me, again, but really aggressive this time. At first, I was sort of flattered having the attentions of this older boy, I mean I was all of sixteen at the time, but quickly his flirtations were out of control and . . . Howard . . . he ended up raping me."

"Jesus, did you call the police? Did you press charges?"

Vanessa dabbed at her eyes with a napkin before shaking her head no.

"Why?" Howard lamely asked but he was pretty sure he knew why in the back of his mind.

"I wanted to but my mom, she knew about these things, talked me out of it. She said, 'Arthur socialized with Brandenberry's chief of police and had been elected on the back of Jaimeson money'. Besides, she stressed to me a black girl accusing a white boy of rape, especially a white boy with the last name of Jaimeson, it was not bound to end well for the girl. After my anger cooled, I guess I agreed."

Vanessa paused again. Longer this time as she twisted the napkin in her hands.

"What is it, Vanessa tell me? Look I understand if you are upset with my family. I mean my brother did rape you and--"

"Howard, you don't understand at all do you? I got pregnant because of the rape. I wasn't sexually active at the time so it was Holden. When I found out I demanded something be done. My mom, she talked to Arthur in private. I think she actually threatened him although she would never tell me exactly what went down. Anyways, an agreement was reached that everyone hoped I would abide to."

"What agreement was that?" Howard asked. A strange feeling was starting to come over him as to exactly where this story was heading.

"To give my baby up after I had it to Mary, Arthur's third wife who desperately wanted a baby but could not have one."

"Wait you mean my dad wanted you to give . . ." Howard was growing confused, possibly in a futile attempt to avoid the truth. "Give your baby up to my mom?"

"Howard," Vanessa reached across the table taking his hand into hers, "Mary is not your mother . . . I am. Holden is your father. Of course they keep this all from you. I don't know, I doubt if they ever would plan on telling you the truth."

Howard was too stunned to talk as Vanessa finished her story. "As part of the deal worked out, they gave my mom a sizable cash payment. Enough for us to move away up north to Chicago. We moved in with my Aunt Rose. Howard, you have to understand, I didn't want to give you up, but I was young and had plans. I was angry about being raped. I thought you being raised by a stable family, well off and everything would give you the best chance in life. Better than being raised by a single young black mother anyways."

"Jesus, you gave me up," Howard muttered under his breath.

"I liked your mom. She was like me in a way. Young, I think she was all of twenty seven or twenty eight at the time, black, well half anyway, I think she is mixed and after talking to her one day for a long, long while trying to decide what to do I decided she would make a good mother especially after she told me her and Arthur had been trying unsuccessfully to have a child together."

"So fucking Holden is my dad. Jesus--"

"Please Howard, let's not talk about him. Instead let's focus on us. On us moving forward."

"Fine. So you said you moved to Chicago though, but you are back here and so was your mother. What happened?"

"My mom got tired of those bitter cold Chicago winters. Besides she had always been a simple country woman and the big city just did not set well with her. So after five years or so we moved back down here and I started taking classes at Georgia and working at the Bulldog and I met you, or actually your alias Tony Mercer and . . . well, you know the rest."

Alone that night in his apartment Howard could not sleep. He kept trying to wrap his head around how this woman he was so smitten with could now suddenly be his mother. Was he supposed to now just turn his feelings for her off—just like that?

By mutual agreement, they decided to take a week off from each other, no phone calls, no meeting, no texts, nothing in an effort to sort out their respective feelings with everything out on the table now.

Much to his surprise, Howard found over the course of their week apart, he was, if anything, even more enamored with his newly found mother. At least now, he understood better the reason why he felt so close to her so quickly after meeting. Maybe it was some sixth sense trying to tell him this woman was special.