One Voice

"Of course not, honey. I don't mean to rain on your parade. I simply want to remain grounded through all this until we settle into a comfortable relationship with Pierre. For all I know, there'll be a flurry of publicity for now and then we may not see him again for another year."

"I hope you're wrong about that," she mused. "I checked online. They say he's worth north of four-hundred million Euros. Not sure how that compares to dollars but it's still a lot!" She enthused.

"Some days the Euro is higher than the dollar and sometimes they're even. But you're right. He's a multi-millionaire. But none of that matters to me. He's my brother and that's what my focus will always be," I said stoically.

"I've already made the arrangements. The girls will be with my parents this weekend and your parents will take Neil; that way it won't be too burdensome for either of them," she touted.

"Good idea. We'll have to make sure we bring back souvenirs for all of them," I noted.

I'd never seen Chelsea so excited before at any time since I'd met her. This was a whole new level of enthusiasm. The limo took us to the posh hotel where Pierre was staying. It was an emotional meeting when he and I seriously hugged for quite a while as confirmed identical twin brothers. He sobbed at the honesty of us both recently learning of the other's existence. This was a life-changing moment for all of us.

"I want you to know, Paul, that my people have found nothing but dead ends concerning both of our adoptions. Not only were the records sealed but they must be buried somewhere as well," he chuckled. That just means we'll have to dig deeper. I've heard about a guy from some friends who knows his way around these types of situations. He doesn't come cheap but the cost means nothing to me. I'm told that if there are any answers to be found, this is the guy to find them. Are you still okay with him digging around for our beginnings? He'll start with my side but eventually, he'll be digging in your backyard too. I just want you to be prepared."

"I've already shared with you what my parents know, which isn't much. I've spoken with them and they have no objection to me learning whatever truths may be unearthed. Nothing will ever lessen or compromise the love I hold for them and they both know it."

"Excellent, Paul. Same on my side. They have no answers either. It sure is a puzzle," Pierre admitted. Your room is right next door. Your bags are already there waiting for you. Why don't you two freshen up and get dressed for a night out on the town? My treat, of course. We will blow some minds when they see both of us at the same time," he said chuckling. "I'm well-recognized at the clubs."

Helena met us at the club. She was stunningly dressed. She reminded me of a younger version of actress Catherine Zeta Jones. I wondered for a moment how she crammed all of her...bounty into such a tight-fitting little red dress. The smiling raven-haired beauty offered me her arm and Pierre escorted Chelsea to our table. He had Chelsea giggling and laughing most of the night. To make him feel a welcome addition to our family, Chelsea danced half of her dances with him and half with me. She seemed fascinated with him and acted as though she'd known him for years. I figured it was her familiarity with his appearance. I courteously shared two dances with Helena, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Sure I was attracted to her; most men would be but I'm a happily married man and clearly conveyed that fact. Helena interacted mostly with Pierre and feigned interest in engaging me in conversation during times that my brother and my wife were on the dance floor but Helena seemed glib, almost condescending as if she viewed me with contempt for some reason, and I didn't have a clue why. Perhaps her air of superiority substantiated her knowledge of how beautiful she was.

I could tell that Chelsea was efficaciously drawn to this new glamorous lifestyle. I didn't want to dampen her mood so I decided to let her have her night of frivolity out on the town. This glitzy scene wasn't anything that interested me, unlike my ebullient wife. I'd never seen her act so overtly before. As we stood outside our room before parting for the night, I respectfully shook Helena's hand and thanked her for a lovely evening. Pierre gave Chelsea pecks on both cheeks and a kiss on the lips before leaving. As we entered our room Chelsea pre-empted me.

"Don't say it. I know what you're thinking. It's a French thing. It's what they do, they kiss everybody for any reason," she explained.

"You may be right but I find it odd that he kissed neither Helena nor me," I chuckled. She said nothing in reply. Chelsea's excitement carried over into our bedroom activities. She ravaged me to three orgasms and at least as many for herself. It had been years since I'd seen her equally excited. We both slept like logs after such an exhausting session.

We rode with Pierre, Helena, and his bodyguard, Gerald, in the limo to the press conference location. It was there that he made a big production about discovering me and our story of eventually coming together, long-lost brothers who were never meant to be together, yet here we were. I stood next to him on his left while Chelsea stood on his right. Helena stood immediately to my left. Gerald was all over the place. I was uncomfortable from the get-go. Dozens of cameras were snapping pictures of us at a rapid pace. I felt like I was under a microscope. The reporters began bombarding me with questions, many of them personal. My brother had not advised me to be prepared to make any statements. After I had left several questions unanswered, Pierre gently pushed me up closer to the microphone so everyone could clearly hear my responses. It was obvious to me that he'd planned on my ambush to help boost his career.

I stepped up to the mic, cleared my throat, and simply stated, "I'm sorry, I'm unprepared to give any statements at this time. I'm sure Mr. Dumont would be happy to fill in any details. I quickly stepped back nearly bumping into Helena as I did so. It seems there was a concerted effort to keep me out in front. Perhaps they thought that once I was in the limelight, I'd love it and get hooked on the feeling. If that was their plan, they were wrong. Chelsea appeared annoyed at my dereliction. Pierre quickly grabbed my hand raising both of our hands in the air presenting a united front to the entertainment journalists, and he stepped up to fill the void. He also asked Chelsea to tell her part of how she brought us together. She seemed born to it and hammed it up for the reporters who kept their cameras clicking away.

As Pierre and Chelsea were playing to the crowd, Helena whispered in my ear asking me what was wrong. I simply said, "My name is Paul Blaylock, not Pierre Dumont. We may look alike, but our personalities are vastly different. This circus is not my thing if you haven't guessed."

Helena appeared shocked. "What? You eschew your fifteen minutes of fame?" She asked in bewilderment.

"That's HIS racket," I suggested. "Not mine."

Helena's countenance took on a new dimension as if she was trying to figure out if I was genuine or not. "Everyone else I know craves such attention; what makes you so different?"

"I was raised in a loving family who taught me to be confident in who and what I am. I don't need the glitz and glamor that many others hanker after. I like things less complicated," I added.

Gerald finally conducted all of us away from the hoopla after Pierre's 'show' was over. "What happened, Paul? He asked. You faded out on me. Why did you hang back as you did?"

"Pierre, I did as you asked. I flew here, attended your press announcement, and had my picture taken with you at least a thousand times. You failed to mention that I'd need to make a speech as well, so I was unprepared. That's your department," I explained.

"Apparently it is Chelsea's calling as well. She saved the day and kept the momentum alive until they stopped asking questions. You've got quite the 'femme désirable' here Paul. You're a lucky man indeed." Chelsea just beamed.

Pierre continued. "Au mon Dieu! Look at the time. We need to get you two back to the airport to make your flight. If you miss it, the next one out is a red-eye flight and I know you don't want to have to deal with that. Your luggage is in the trunk of the limo already. My driver will get you there on time. Oh, one more thing before you go. Tell him, Chelsea." Pierre nudged.

She looked as if she could barely contain herself. "That's right! I almost forgot. Paul, guess who's gonna stay with us all next week?"

"Your mother?" I teased.

"No silly. Pierre! He says he's between engagements right now and has some downtime. He said he wants to get to know you better and I asked him, why not stay with us next week and the two of you can talk all night long if you wish? He can use the spare bedroom. Isn't that wonderful?"

"But what about his security? Where will Gerald and Helena sleep?" I inquired.

"Oh, they'll be nearby at the Excelsior," Pierre expounded. "Besides, I have some other ideas for security I think you'll love. Thanks for the invite, Paul. See you two tomorrow night then." Before stepping into the limo, Chelsea received another round of French customary kisses. I merited a long forceful hug followed by kisses on the cheek. Tears flooded our eyes as we both recognized our permanent connection. We were both still in shock about it all.

Chelsea chattered away nearly all the way home. I hardly said two words. I was unaccustomed to being railroaded in my own home. I let her ramble to her heart's content. I picked up the kids and steered them upstairs for their nightly baths. Chelsea was on the phone constantly with her friends cheerfully regaling the events of the weekend as they had unfolded. As the night wound down and we were readying for bed, she cuddled and signaled her receptivity to make love again.

"Sorry honey, jet lag. It's going to be a busy day tomorrow. Raincheck?" I asked.

"You've never turned me down before. What's going on, Paul?"

"You've never invited a man we'd only recently met to stay at our house for a week either without talking to me about it first." I simmered.

"Is that what's bothering you? He's your identical twin brother for God's sake! I figured you'd jump at the chance to have him here. He's a most amazing man. Wait until you get to know him better," she inferred.

"You mean the way YOU know him already? The way you went crazy over him all weekend I get the idea that you'd let him replace me in a heartbeat."

"Paul? Are you jealous of your own brother? That's just about the dumbest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth. Stop that kind of talk right now. Do you hear me? You're crazy!"

"Am I? What are the two of you going to do all day long for a full week alone in this house while I'm at work? YOU'LL be with him much more next week than I will. Maybe by the end of the week, you'll be able to tell me all about my brother and everything you learned about him that I wasn't around to hear. Then the next week, maybe I can spend time with your parents and teach you all about them!" I said heatedly.

"You stupid asshole! I was gonna give you some loving tonight but not now!" She fumed.

"I understand, saving it all for my brother, are you?"

"Fuck you!" She seethed.

"Not tonight dear, I have a headache," I sarcastically stated. Needless to say, not another word was spoken between us the rest of the night.

I awoke early Monday morning and didn't feel like apologizing. I was pretty certain she felt the same way so I quietly dressed and slipped off to work. I'm sure she had his arrival time memorized and would take care of getting Pierre settled in. I wanted to get back to work and take my mind off of this crazy roller coaster ride.

Rachael was loaded for bear the moment she walked in the door, thirty minutes early. "How in the world did you beat ME to work? Did Pierre teach you to ACT like a professional?" She joked.

"I'm afraid not. He's coming today to spend the week with me getting to know me better. Chelsea invited him yesterday and he jumped at the chance. I asked her what she'll be doing all week alone with him all day while I'm here at work."

"I saw the entertainment news yesterday. I saw a lot of him and a lot of Chelsea but not as much of you. What gives?" Rachael asked.

"Apparently he wanted me to make a big speech but forgot to mention it to me. He craves publicity and Chelsea does too it seems but it's not my thing so I just let them handle it."

"Are you sure you want to leave that snake alone with your wife all week?"

"Why do you ask that?" I queried.

"There's not an awful lot of news about him here in the States but if you go online and look up the English versions of some French publications, he has a reputation of being quite the playboy. He's been married and divorced four times. Each time due to his infidelity and most of his conquests were married. In a candid interview he gave several years ago, he explained that married women are like catnip to him. They're forbidden fruit that he finds irresistible. He said he could never be faithful to one woman and often juggles multiple relationships at once just for the challenge. He's the polar opposite of you, Paul." Rachael warned.

"Thanks for the heads up. I'd hate to think that he'd go after his own sister-in-law but he wouldn't be the first to do that would he? I wouldn't put it past him. I'll speak to Chelsea tonight and make sure she's aware of his wily ways," I rejoined.

Working with people in occupational therapy was therapeutic for me as well. It kept my mind occupied so I wouldn't dwell on unpleasant thoughts. I had mixed feeling about my new brother. Though some of my thoughts were foreboding, I still sought answers to who we were and how we came to be in our different circumstances. I was hoping his people were able to uncover something concrete. I drug my feet and arrived home a half-hour later than normal for me. I was surprised to see three security contractor trucks in my driveway and parked on the street. Something unscheduled was taking place. I walked inside to find Pierre in my living room explaining to Roland, the foreman, exactly what he wanted to be installed where. Chelsea approached when she saw me.

"A bit late this evening, aren't you?" She questioned.

"As you know, every day is not a cookie-cutter day, Chelsea. I'm not going to walk away from a patient in the middle of a breakthrough. You know that. What's going on here?"

She smiled, "It's a gift from Pierre for allowing him the privilege of staying here this week. I tried to get him to call you first and discuss it with you before doing anything but he insisted."

"I see. So did he instruct you, as my wife, not to call me and inform me of what is going on in my own house?"

She looked down at her feet. "I thought you'd be pleased. Pierre's got his people putting in a new state-of-the-art security system all over the house. That way, whenever he's here we will be immediately alerted to the presence of any lurkers or fans or anyone else unwanted. And when he's not here, we can rest assured that the kids are safe and sound. Parents can never be too safe these days, Paul."

"And how much is all this going to cost us?" I inquired.

"I already told you it's a gift. It won't cost us anything," she added.

"Perhaps not in cash, Chelsea, but it's already costing me peace in my own home. I would never have agreed to this system being installed without a lot of conversation first. I believe my name's on the deed is it not? Shouldn't I have a say in any home improvements we decide to undertake? I'm disappointed in you, Chelsea. Pierre's forceful enough to deal with on his own. Now I have to fight you too? I thought we were a team," I said exasperated.

"What part of the word 'gift' do you not understand, Paul? When someone gives you a gift, you say 'thank you' and accept it with a smile whether you like the gift or not. He's trying his best to do something nice for his new brother. Why do you want to take that joy away from him?"

"Why don't you ask him if it's okay if I take a shower in my own house? After all, I'd sure hate to disappoint our guest. Did he import sacred water for me to use?" I spat.

"Go take your damn shower," she barked. "Supper will be ready when you come back downstairs."

I left her to her kitchen and Pierre to his project management as I trudged up the stairs and took a long cleansing shower, searching for better spirits. After some deep breathing exercises, I descended the stairs with a smile on my face. After hugging and catching up with my children, I took my seat at the side of the table. I usually sit at the head of the table.

"I thought Pierre could sit at the head of the table as our special guest. Is that alright, sweetie?" Chelsea asked me in front of my family.

"Of course," I said curtly. "My brother's welcome at our table." I didn't look up but I could tell peripherally that Pierre and Chelsea were smiling as I said it. "What's this?" I asked, looking at food I'd never seen before on our kitchen table.

Chelsea beamed, "Isn't it wonderful? Pierre had real French Cuisine delivered so we could have a taste of his home country right here in our kitchen."

"Okay, I'll ask again, what is it?"

Pierre enthusiastically jumped in, "Allow me, brother. Tonight's delicacies are three of my favorites, escargot, vichyssoise, and bouillabaisse. The escargot are edible snail appetizers served in the shell with a sauce of melted butter and garlic. Vichyssoise is a thick, creamy soup made from potato, leeks, and onions, served cold. And bouillabaisse is a highly seasoned stew made of several kinds of fish and shellfish."

"Uh-huh. And what are the kids having?"

My oldest daughter, Amber, smiled and said, "Daddy, we're having fish sticks. Mommy said we had to eat seafood like you grownups and we don't like those things," she said as she wrinkled her nose and pointed to the French cuisine.

I looked over at Chelsea. She knew exactly what I was thinking and what I was going to say. "No, there are no more fish sticks left. There were just enough for the kids. Why don't you try something new for a change? It won't kill you to sample another culture you know," she said disparagingly. Pierre looked amused but remained silent.

"Excuse me, I'll be right back," I announced. I went to the kitchen island, gathered a few things together, and made myself two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches before returning to the table.

"Really, Paul?" Peanut butter and jelly? You're not going to even try it?" She admonished.

The kids struck up in unison, "We want peanut butter 'n jelly too. Okay, daddy? Can we? We don't like fish sticks."

I laughed out loud. I guess I must be a kid at heart. I cut my two sandwiches in half and gave each of my three kids a half-sandwich to start with and returned to the island to make more. It was evident that Chelsea was embarrassed and disgusted by my behavior but I wasn't trying to impress my brother as she was. Truth be told, I don't think Chelsea 'loved' the French dishes as much as she pretended to. I had never seen her eat any of them before tonight.

Just as the kids and I were licking the excess jelly off our fingers, the doorbell rang. Helena had brought some papers by for Pierre to sign and dropped off a manila envelope. The Excelsior limo returned her to her hotel for the night.

Pierre looked over at me saying, "This is it, Paul. This is everything available about our origin, where you and I came from. Are you ready?"

I nodded, "Go ahead, Pierre. Whatever is in that envelope is more than we know right now."

"Paul, Helena said my guys found out everything there was to discover. If there remain any unanswered questions after this, they'll remain unanswered unless some miracle happens. Okay here goes." He quickly scanned and read over the papers before he started reading aloud.