Soul Food Pt. 04

"Okay, what about?" George asked, shutting off the TV. It was never a good sign when anyone started off with we need to talk.

"I think Denis' birth parents are trying to find him or has found him and waiting for confirmation before contacting him," Helen stated truthfully.

"Come again?! Was that what you were going on about in the kitchen?" George asked, seeing his wife nodding. "How can you be certain?" he asked, feeling his heart race. He was not about to give up his son, blood or not, to anyone! Ever! If he had to crawl on his belly to stop them, then by the high Heavens, he was going to do so. His son has already seen horrors that no man or woman should ever have to face for the first ten years of his life. He was damn sure no strange person was ever going to take his son from them!

"Because they used a police tactic in acquiring Denis' DNA without having to get a court order. They took the water bottle he threw away from the trash, and I don't have to tell you the amount of it they will find on the lip of it if he screwed the cap on," Helen said sternly, looking at her husband.

"But why now all of a sudden? Why not before?" George asked, trying to make sense out of it all.

"I don't know. Maybe they saw something about Denis or finally worked up the courage to find him," Helen said, shrugging her shoulders. "Call the kids down. I'll finish putting dinner on the table, but this stays between you and me. I don't want Denis catching wind of it. At least not yet, not until we know for certain who or what we're dealing with," she spoke in a very protective motherly voice. To this, George was in strong agreement with.

******

Two weeks later...

Coraline was sitting at her desk, her pen moving along reports as she munched on the sandwich she held in her left hand like she always did at lunchtime unless she was having a lunch meeting with her superiors. For the past two weeks, she's been on pins and needles waiting on the results of the DNA report. That the P.I. firm she had hired in Philadelphia to obtain Denis', the boy in the picture who she believed to be her son, DNA without getting the courts involved. She didn't doubt that might take place; however, she didn't want to intrude on his life if he wasn't her son. From what her P.I. could gather legally, it seemed the McCarty family was very respected in Philly. She wondered how a black family came to adopt him. Not that she had anything against them, it just seemed odd to her. Then again, she really couldn't judge them. Coraline was sure they were very pleasant people.

Looking up to her computer screen when her email chimed, the picture of Denis, her P.I. had sent her, moved across the screen that she set to her screensaver. She no longer saw the image of his father when she gazed upon it. No. All she saw was her son, who had grown up to be a handsome man. Looking in her company email, first thinking that was what had alerted her notification, yet she saw nothing in the inbox. Switching over to her personal one, her sandwich almost fell out of her hand when she saw the name of the P.I. email address staring at her in bold letters. Remembering the woman the man had sent to Knoxville to get a sample from her. With trepidation, Coraline moved the mouse pointer over it and clicked on it.

"Ms. Willingham, I hope you're sitting down; if not, I would suggest you do before opening the attachment. As our contract stated, this so ends our involvement in the case. I hope this answers your questions. What you do with the information that is for you to decide. I really do hope this is what you were hoping for. None of my employees and I have seen the results. I thought this should only be viewed by your eyes. If you ever need us again, please contact us at any time. I hope you have a good day." Coraline had read and reread the email three times before she worked up the courage to open the attachment.

Her desk chair banged into the wall behind her as she surged from her seat. Her fingers trembled as they covered her mouth as her eyes quivered, and they peered down at the results on the screen of her computer. There in fine block printing informing her that subject A, which was her, and subject B, which was Denis, shared the same mitochondrial DNA, meaning that she was indeed the mother of subject B. Denis was indeed her son! Then her mind began to race at what she was going to do now that she knew. Did he even want to meet her? She knew he wouldn't even remember her. He was only a day old before they took him from her. Did she even have a right to enter his life again? Would it be right? What of the family that adopted him? Would they protect him by keeping her away from her son? These questions plagued her mind as she paced behind her desk. Only stopping when her screensaver activated and the image of her son peered at her.

"My Denis," Coraline cooed in a sweet motherly voice as her fingertips ran down the image of her son. "I'm sorry, Denis, can you ever forgive me?" she asked, knowing she would never get an answer. Moving her mouse around the pad to awaken her computer. Hitting the print button and printing out a copy for her and one for Denis that she would add to the letter she had been drafting for the past two weeks. She didn't know if he would believe her or not; nonetheless, she had to try! Her sandwich was all but forgotten as she snatched her cell phone from her desk. Scrolling down her list of contacts as she came to her mother's cell number, knowing she was at her part-time job that day. It was the only hours she could find when her company had laid off most of the office staff at her old company to cut down on cost while keeping the manufacturing workers on payroll and the assembly line going.

"Hey, honey, how are you?" her mother asked in that chipper voice of hers.              

"Fantastic, about to cry, and scared to all fucking Hell, all rolled into one," Coraline said truthfully.

"Oh? What's going on, Coraline?"

"You remember the P.I. I hired back in Philly?" Coraline asked, walking in circles in the space in front of her desk.

"Yeah, of course, I do. What about him?"

"Well, you know he sent that woman down here, right?"

"Right? Coraline, don't make me have to pull it out of you."

"Well, I just got back the DNA results."

"And?!"

"Denis McCarty is my son!"

"What!" her mother roared in her ear. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, it's a perfect match to my own mitochondrial DNA," Coraline said, her heart was racing a hundred miles an hour.

"Oh my, oh my..." Coraline listened as her mother sputtered, trying to wrap her head around what she had just said. "And you're absolutely sure Denis, the boy we saw in that news clipping is your son?"

"There's no doubt about it," Coraline nodded against her phone.

"Okay, okay, we need to think about what we're going to do next. Come to the house tonight, and we'll discuss what we're going to do as a family."

"Okay, Mom, say six tonight?"

"That's perfect; oh, I do wonder how your father is going to take this."

"Probably have a heart attack."

"Not funny, Coraline." She couldn't help but smile at her mother's stern tone.

"Coraline, is everything okay in here?" Marybeth asked, sticking her head into Coraline's office after returning from lunch. Yelping as Coraline pulled her into her office and shut the door. "What?! Oh, my God!" she gasped, throwing her arms around her friend after she divulged that dark secret she held onto. "And you're sure he's yours?"

"Mmmhmm, see for yourself," Coraline said, holding out the results of the test to her. "I'm subject A and..."

"Subject B is this Denis person," Marybeth finished for Coraline, who nodded. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Do I have a right to interject myself into his life when he doesn't even know me?"

"Of course, you do! You're his Mom!" Marybeth uttered, Coraline knew she took her role as a mother to her three small children very seriously. "Do you know where he lives?"

"I do; I was going to write him a letter, telling him who I was and who he is to me," Coraline stated, laying out her plans to her friend.

"Fuck a letter, call him!" Marybeth urged her.

"But, but..."

"No buts! A letter will take days or a week to get there, and there's no telling if he would read it or not. Don't you want to know what your son sounds like?" Marybeth asked, peering right into Coraline's eyes.

"Yes, I do," Coraline nodded firmly.

"Well, let's see if they're listed in the white pages there, don't worry, I'm not going to leave you alone in this," Marybeth spoke, rubbing Coraline's back when she saw the fear in her friend's eyes. "Just remember, just take it nice and slow," she said when Coraline's finger hovered over the last number for the phone number to the McCarty residence they had found in the Philadelphia white pages online. "You can do this, Coraline," Marybeth said reassuringly as Coraline blew out a breath before hitting the last number.

"Hello, this is the McCarty residence. Can I help you?"

"Is a Denis Rothman McCarty there?" Coraline asked, praying that the polite man on the other end was her boy. She didn't think she could go through with it if one of his other family members answered the phone.

"Yeah, this is he? Can I ask who's calling and how do I know you?" Denis asked in a confused tone.

"You don't, but I know you."

"Huh?"

"Your real name is Denis Rothman Willingham."

"Is not; it's McCarty." Coraline heard the defensiveness in Denis' voice.

"That's the name your adoptive parents gave you; I named you Denis Rothman Willingham."

"Lady, just who are you?" She heard his anger rising.

"Denis, I'm your mother. The person that gave birth to you."

"I don't have to listen to this..."

"Denis, please, wait!" Coraline cried out, trying to keep him from hanging up.

"Why?"

"Because I can prove to you that I am your mother."

"Uh-huh, listen, lady, I don't know who you are or what you're on, but my mother is at work, and my father is asleep. Whoever you're looking for, it isn't me."

"You have a star-shaped birthmark on your upper inner right thigh," Coraline blurted out, knowing he was a hair's breadth from hanging up on her.              "How the Hell do you know that?!"             

"I know where it is because I was the one that gave birth to you and held you in my arms before the State came and took you away."

"What do you want? If you really are who you say you are, then why the hell should I give a damn about what you say? You abandoned me! That is if you are my mother as you claim to be."

"I didn't abandon you, Denis. I gave you up because I couldn't take care of you at the time. Listen, I know me calling out of the blue like this has put you on edge, and I'm sorry for that. It wasn't my intention to. Yet, I just had to hear your voice."

"Why?"

"Because the last time I ever saw you, you were just a day old, and I was just shy of turning fifteen. I know you're probably wondering, why now? Why, after all this time that you hear the voice of the woman that you've never met before. I'll admit I never thought I'd ever see a picture of you either, but I have, and that just drove me to find you. I know you don't have a reason to trust anything I say to you. I get that. To you, I'm just some crazy woman rambling on." Biting her lip when she heard Denis utter: 'You got the crazy part right.' "Do you have something to write with?"

"Fine, hold on." Coraline heard Denis grumbling.

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

"Run a search for the name Coraline Emelia Willingham and Francis Barker Jones from the year 2000."

"Are those names supposed to mean something to me?"

"I'm Coraline, Denis, and Francis is your father's name."

"You're fucking with me, right?"

"No, I am not. I would never lie about that man and what he did to me," Coraline said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Ask your adoptive mother to run the names herself if you don't believe me; she's a D.A., isn't she?"

"How do you know that?"

"Because I wanted to make sure you were my son before I even thought of making contact with you on the off chance that you might not be my son; if you were, I wanted to find out who it was that was raising you. All I ask is that you listen to what she will tell you. I know it's a lot to ask and I hope that you will ask her. I would really like to get to know you, Denis," Coraline said, trying not to break down into tears. "And when you do, maybe you'd like to talk to me some more."

"I make no promises."

"I understand, but I'm not going to stop trying now that I know where you are. I never knew where you were growing up; the State said it would be better if I didn't know. Now... I don't know Denis. I've always wondered about you. But I think that's a discussion for another time. But, please, at least allow me to keep a line of communication open with you. I'll let you go, Denis; it was really good to hear what you sound like," Coraline spoke, giving him her cell phone number before hanging up the phone. Her face fell into her hands, feeling Marybeth wrapping her arms around her.

******

"Mom?" Denis spoke into his phone as he sat on the edge of his bed. Given that it was a teacher's work day and his siblings were already at their class. He wasn't about to leave his father unattended on the off chance that his father needed a helping hand.

"Hey, baby?!" Helen said excitedly into the phone as she sat at her desk, going over cases that were pending. Recounting last night and how she had eased him into her ass when she rode her son on his bed. "Is your father okay?" Knowing Denis wouldn't call her at work unless it was important.

"Dad's still asleep," Denis said, looking down at the scrap of paper that held names that might lead to answers to his past.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Helen knew her son well enough to know something had him distracted.

"Can you do me a favor but as long as it doesn't get you into trouble," Denis uttered, his thumb ran along the name of his mother.

"Okay, Denis, you're starting to worry me; what is this about?"

"When you adopted me, what was my last name?"

"Denis, I don't..."

"Please, Mom, I need to know," Denis said, cutting her off.

"Willingham," Helen sighed. "Why are you asking?"

"Can you run these names through whatever you use to keep track of crimes? Coraline Emelia Willingham and Francis Barker Jones from the year 2000," Denis said, rattling off the names Coraline had given him.

"Denis? What's going on?"

"This woman called here, claiming to be my mother; I want to know if what she said was true or not," Denis said, feeling his mother's tension over the line.

"Why?"

"I don't know, Mom, I just do. This doesn't change that you are my mother, but a part of me wants to know," Denis sighed in irritation, not at his mother but at himself when he couldn't tell if he was coming or going.

"You said 2000, right?"

"Yeah, that's what she said," Denis nodded against his phone, hearing his mother typing away. Then he heard her getting silent all of a sudden.

"Denis, I think we need to discuss this in person when I get home tonight," Helen spoke when the name Francis Barker Jones popped up as a Tier 3 offender on the Pennsylvania Sexual Offender Registration.

"Mom, what did you find?"

"When I get home," Helen said sternly, her fingers working along her keyboard to ensure the man was nowhere near her son. "I have to go," she uttered, hanging up the phone. Looking up the phone number for the Pittston, PA police department. She wanted to be sure the man was where he said he was. Living in a halfway house as a paraplegic due to the injuries he had sustained while in prison. She personally thought the man got off easy with what he was charged with.

"Pittston PD, what's the emergency?" an older gentleman's voice came over the line once she had placed the call.

"Hello, I'm Helen McCarty, from the DA's office in Philadelphia. I was hoping you could do a location check on one Francis Barker Jones," Helen stated, leaning back into his chair.

"Don't have to; he's in lock up at the moment."

"Can I ask why?"

"For violating his probation."

"I see; thank you, officer."

"You're welcome."

Helen leaned back in her chair after hanging up with the man. Her red-polished, manicured fingernail tapped her lower lip, wondering what she would find on this woman. Knowing if she was involved with Jones, then she must have been a victim of his. Finding nothing on the name her son had given her. Not that was surprising; juveniles' records were normally sealed. What did surprise her was she couldn't find one infraction within the city's system. Which meant she was no longer in the state. Logging off and switching to the national database, running the name through their search engine. A list of over a hundred women with close to the name Denis had given her. Refining the search to only include women in their thirties given Mr. Jones's choice of victims. Helen was left with three results and only one that had the exact wording of the name he had given her.

Backing out of the database, and opening up Google, and typing in the woman's name and the city she lived in. Arching an eyebrow when the first thing that came up with her name was that the woman was a VP at a Hedge Fund company centered out of Knoxville. Her eyes ran down the bio attached to the photo the woman's company had attached to it. Hearing her printer going as she printed out the picture of the woman. As much as she wanted to protect Denis, she knew if she kept this from him, it would only hurt her son, and most likely, he would look for her anyway on his own. Pulling up their directory, if the woman thought she'd simply call her son and get Denis all flustered, she had another thing coming! Her thumb moved along the digital keypad of her phone as she dialed the number for Coraline's office. Hearing the line ringing when she brought her phone up to her ear.

"Thank you for calling Hendricks Hedge fund; how may I direct your call?" Helen heard the sweet tone of a woman's voice when the line connected.

"Yes, I need to speak with one, Ms. Coraline Willingham," Helen said in a stern tone.

"Please, hold for one moment."

"This is Ms. Willingham; how may I help you?" Coraline answered.

"You want to tell me what the hell you are doing?" Helen asked, trying to keep her temper in check.

"Excuse me?!" Coraline was taken aback by the venomousness of the woman's tone.

"What business do you have contacting my son!"

"Ah. You must be Denis' adoptive mother."

"I am and damn proud of it!" Helen said with a stern nod.

"Listen, I am sorry I ruffled your feathers, but I have every right to contact my son. I'm not trying to impose anything on anyone. Yet, I'm not about to deny my son if he wishes to form a line of communication with me. Plus, you don't really have a say in the matter. Denis is eighteen; as you know, the law can't stop me even if they wanted to." Helen's nostrils flared as her anger inched up a notch.

"And what could you possibly want with my son now?" Helen asked, making sure the woman knew Denis was her son and her son alone!

"Just to get to know my son, that's all; I'm not trying to take him away from you. I'm sure you're the only parents he's known since he was a baby."