Incest/Taboo Soul Food

Warning some of you might take offense about a few sections in this story. If you do, well, sorry, but sometimes stories are meant to be controversial to make you think and question. Now, if that stops you from reading this story, then I suggest you stop right now and seek another story to read; because I'm not going to pull any punches, and it might get some of you hot under the collar. Again, I apologize, yet the story calls for it. So, let this be a fair warning to anyone who continues to read this addition to the Soul Food series.

"Coraline, Coraline!" Marybeth spoke rapidly in a worried tone as she knelt over her unconscious boss. She had checked her pulse and her breathing. She was fearful about moving Coraline's head in case she cracked her skull open on something. Reaching up about to call 911 from the phone on Coraline's desk when she began to come out of her fainting spell. "Thank God, you had me so worried?!" Marybeth uttered, helping Coraline to sit up. "Are you alright?" she asked, seeing a look in her friend's eyes that she's never seen before. Fear!

"No, no, I am not," Coraline snapped as the flashes of her Ra*e flared in her mind. "I'm sorry, Marybeth, I didn't mean to snap at you," she apologized. "I have to go," Coraline said, scrambling to her feet and pocketing the newspaper clipping of a boy that just might be her son. "If anyone asked, I got sick and had to take a personal day," she spoke hurriedly, closing her briefcase.

"Coraline, what's going on? I've never seen you like this before," Marybeth stated, watching something coming over her friend as she remained silent.

"I can't talk about it, Marybeth, at least not now," Coraline said in an apologetic tone.

"Okay, but there has to be something going on here, Coraline."

"I promise, when I can, I'll tell you," Coraline said, walking out of her office. "I hope," she added to herself. At the age of thirty-two, she never thought she would be faced with the picture of the child she had given up. It never occurred to her that he was still in that city. What was she going to do? Pulling out her phone, scrolling down her list of contacts and coming to her parents' number who lived in Oliver Springs, TN which was about fifty minutes from Knoxville. Lifting her phone to her ear as she stepped out of the cab of the elevator and walked hurriedly towards the parking structure that was attached to the building.

"Honey? What's wrong? Aren't you supposed to be at work?" her mother's voice came over the line as Coraline pushed the handle of the door with her hip and exited her place of business.

"He's found me!" Coraline said in a frantic voice.

"Who... oh God! Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mom, I'm very sure!" Coraline snapped. "Sorry, sorry." Blowing out a breath as she stopped in her tracks. It always happened when that man came up.

"Oh, honey, are you alright?"

"No," Coraline said in a trembling voice as that fear she thought she conquered surged back to the forefront of her mind.

"Where are you? I'll come and get you."

"I'm coming to you; he sent me something," Coraline said in an ominous tone.

"He swore to us he would not contact you ever!"

"I know."

"I'll make sure he sees a damn jail cell again!" Coraline couldn't stop her smile from touching her lips when her mother went all mama bear. "When will you get here?"

"In an hour," Coraline spoke as her car door shut.

"Okay, honey, be safe; we'll see you when you get here."

"Okay, honey," her father spoke once they had calmed their daughter down after the fit of crying when they sat on their couch in their living room. "Your mother said something about that man sent you something?" he asked, pondering why he didn't end the bastard then and there. He knew why; his wife had talked him out of doing something stupid and rash.

"He sent me this," Caroline said, pulling out the newspaper clipping the man had sent her. Hearing her mother gasp and her father's hard breathing as Denis' picture peered up at them.

"He looks so much like him," her mother whispered, to which Coraline simply nodded. She couldn't tell what color of his hair it was nor the color of his eyes given the black and white photo of Denis. She didn't have to. It was burnt into her brain. How could she ever forget? He was her baby. She remembered those soft green eyes looking up at her as she held him in her arms once she had given birth to him. Recounting the small patch of brown hair on top of his head. To the feel of how he suckled on her left breast before the people from the State came to take him away. At the time, she thought she was doing the right thing. Yet, there had been times she wondered what had happened to him. If he's had a good life. If a family ever adopted him, and if they were kind to her boy. Wondering if he could forgive her for not taking care of him like a mother should, also if he ever thought about her. Looking over when her mother laid a hand on her right forearm.

"What do you want to do, honey?" her mother asked in a caring tone.

"I don't know?! Do I have any right after all this time just to pop up and say 'Hi! I might be your mother; let's find out!'" Coraline exclaimed, getting up from her seat.

"He most likely is Coraline. You know how adamant that bastard was in forcing you to get an abortion. So we can safely assume that it's his because I seriously doubt any woman would willingly sleep with that man and have his child," her father spoke with his wife nodding along.

"Look, he even has the name you gave him," her mother pointed out when she read the article.

"What?!" Coraline uttered; she would have thought whoever adopted her son would have changed his name.

"Coraline, do you want to know if this is your son?" her mother asked, looking right at her, to which Coraline nodded vehemently. "I know your father would agree; we would like to know our grandson as well." Reaching over and sliding her hand into his, knowing what she said was true. "Let's see what we can find out about these McCarty folks," she said, looking over to where their old desktop sat .

Two weeks later...

Denis was walking home from the gym after his workout to keep limber as he waited for his next challenger to appear that wanted the title he had won a little over a month ago. For the past few days, it's felt like someone's been watching him. Stopping in his tracks when he came to a trash can that lined the sidewalks. Upturning the water bottle his trainer had given him after the sparring match he had with one of the men he was teaching, he went easy on him; Denis could tell the man had never stepped into the ring before. However, it was a good exercise, nonetheless. Even if the man outweighed him by fifty or more pounds. Screwing the cap on and tossing the empty bottle into the trash. Wondering what chores his grandmother needed him to do as he headed off towards the direction of her house. Denis turned when he heard a car stopping behind him as he waited for the crossing light to change. Arching an eyebrow when he watched a woman reaching into the trash and pulling out a bottle, which looked like the one he just threw away into a plastic bag.

While he wasn't anyone to disparage anyone from trying to stay alive by eating out of the garbage. He did find it odd that someone with the means of owning a car would be digging through the trash; also equally confusing was they only took the bottle before jumping back into their car.

"Fuck!" Denis was blinded when someone in the back fired off several camera flashes rapidly as they drove by him. It took the rest of his walk to his grandmother's house to get the dark spots to fade from his eyes.

Waving to his grandmother as she sat on her porch chatting away with the elderly man that lived beside her. He always wondered if the man had a crush on his Nana. Not that he could blame the man, his grandmother was awesome! Especially when she made her famous cream-cheese brownies. They were just to die for if you took Shawna's and his mother's word for it.

"Hey, Nana, Mr. Mullins," Denis greeted, not speaking about the weirdness that had just transpired. "Dad said something about you needing some work done around here."

"Hello, sweetheart," Dorthey said with a warm, loving smile on her face as she peered at her grandson. It didn't matter to her if Denis was adopted into the family; he was her grandbaby. "I do, I do," she nodded to his statement.

"What with?" Denis asked, looking around; the grass wasn't too high, her flower beds didn't look like they needed weeding.

"The gutters, they need to be cleaned out before the summer rains get here. Do you think you can..."

"Sure, Nana, just point me to where the ladder is," Denis said, cutting in. Not missing how that smile just grew when he spoke those words.

"It's leaning against the shed; Stan was supposed to do it for me, but he got a tad busy at his shop."

"Don't worry about it Nana, happy to help; I'm sure Uncle Stan will do it next time," Denis said before heading off towards the back of his grandmother's house.

"You be careful up there!" Dorthey hollered.

"Yes, Nana," Denis called back, smiling as he did.

"You have one caring boy there," Mr. Mullin said as he rocked in his chair. "I can barely get mine to lift a finger around my house."

"Well, that's the difference between nurturing and the whip," Dorthey teased her old-time friend. Hiding the pain of knowing Denis knew the feeling of the whip all too well. She also knew since she went to every court date to see the people who did that to her grandchild put in prison for a long time. As well as the social worker who turned a blind eye to the abuse that was occurring in the home the State had placed him into. Dorthey pondered on what happened to Denis' birth mother as she chatted away with her friend. Also asking herself if Denis wanted to find her or if he wanted anything to do with her in the first place. She knew when he was younger he didn't; now, she didn't know. Maybe it was time to brooch the subject with Denis again.

"Denis, I got you a little something for working so hard for this old woman," Dorthey cooed in a grandmotherly voice, holding a small plate with her famous brownie on it along with a glass of cold milk to wash it all down. She knew Helen would be upset with spoiling Denis' appetite before dinner. Yet, her grandbaby worked hard, and he deserved a little treat.

"Thanks, Nana," Denis uttered in a happy tone as he took the plate from her and the glass.

"So, how's school?" Dorthey asked; she knew all about his troubles with his studies due to how he was raised until her son and daughter-in-law saved him from that fate.

"Okay, I guess," Denis answered after swallowing his bite. That fear that has haunted him since he could remember was still with him to this day that the moment he graduated that they wouldn't want him any longer.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Just something I'm working out," Denis mumbled, feeling the warmth of her touch on his forearm and the concerned light in her eyes.

"What's wrong, Denis?"

"It's just that, will I still be family when I do graduate?"

"Oh, honey, of course, you will! You will always be my grandbaby, and you will always be George's and Helen's son. If anyone ever tries to tell you otherwise, then you tell them to come and see me, and I'll get my boots out and show them a thing or two," Dorthey said with a stern nod. "Denis, I know you've dealt with things that my ancestors have faced, and made to think you weren't human, that you weren't this strong, caring boy I've grown to love as one of my own. I know that fear may never leave you. Yet, you know in your heart this is where you belong, don't you?" Her genuine warm smile spread across her face at Denis' nod as he enjoyed his treat. "Now, if you ever feel like this, you come to see me, and I'll straighten you out. You, young man, are very much a part of this family and don't think to ever forget it." Her heart warmed as Denis smiled, and that cloud she had seen in his eyes fading. Knowing how long it took Denis to truly smile due to the horrors he had faced in his first ten years of life. Dorthey was determined that her grandson never once again felt the need to scowl, ever again.

"Now, you be careful carrying these home with you," Dorthey spoke, handing Denis a Tupperware container filled with half of the batch of brownies she had made earlier that day. "You know what will happen if they find out you lost them," she said, smiling deviously at him, seeing Denis nodding that he did.

"You're the best, Nana," Denis said, hugging his adopted grandmother.

"Now you be safe going home, don't you get into any trouble on the way home," Dorthey teased as she stood on her front porch after Denis had washed up.

"Yes, Nana, love you," Denis called back as he walked down Dorthey's driveway.

"Love you too, sweetheart, and remember you come by anytime you need to," Dorthey called back, waving to him when he turned to look at her. She did love seeing that smile on his face.

"Mom, Dad, I'm home!" Denis called out when he walked through the front door.

"Welcome home, son," George said, wheeling himself into the doorway of the living room. "Are those Mom's brownies?" he asked, eyeing the container.

"Mmmhmm," Denis hummed.

"George!" Helen shouted, causing her 38D breasts to bounce when her husband was about to purloin... "You hand those over right this second young man?!" she exclaimed as her eyes fell upon the treasure.

"Nah-uh, these are mine!" Denis said in a diabolical voice, winking at his father, who was pressing his lips together, trying not to laugh.

"Denis Rothman McCarty, you hand those brownies over to me right this second?!" Helen intoned in her best prosecutor voice. Hearing the sound of her other children's feet racing down the stairs.

"I don't wanta," Denis said, playing up his child-like act. "Nana said these were just for Dad and me. Nobody else," he teased. Seeing his sister and brother smacking their lips as their eyes fell on the container. Watching how Will strolled up to him in that big brotherly fashion.

"Denis, I'm sure Nana included me in that as well," Will spoke, placing a hand on his little brother's shoulder.

"Traitor!" Helen and Shawna yelled in unison.

"What? These are Nana's brownies; it's every man for themselves," Will said with a joking smile on his lips.

"What ya think, Dad?" Denis asked, looking down at his father, the man that he could always turn to. Lean on when he had trouble figuring out the world around him.

"Well, I suppose," George uttered, stroking his chin, playing into Denis' little tease.

"George! How can you be so cruel to your wife?!"

"The best that I can recall, you two ate most of them the last time Mom sent a batch home with Denis; I think we men should get our fair share," George spoke, turning his wheelchair towards his wife. Seeing Helen's and Shawna's jaws dropping when he said that.

"Don't you want your wife to be happy? Because those brownies make me very happy," Helen said, never taking her eyes off of them.

"Denis, you aren't that cold to leave me out, are you?" Shawna asked, batting her eyelashes at him.

"I don't know; these are probably the best ones she's made so far," Denis muttered, tapping his chin, feeling the eyes of his family boring into him.

"What do you mean the best ones?!" Helen asked, crossing her arms below her breasts.

"Nana gave me this really big one, and it was so good too," Denis replied, seeing the tide turning against him.

"Well now, that just isn't right; I think you need to hand those over to me..."

"No me!"

"Nah-uh, me, I need the sugar rush to study," Will said as he and his father took hold of the sides of the container.

"Not so fast, you two; if anyone gets these pretties, it's Mom and me," Shawna said, staking her claim with Helen nodding along.

Denis' hand just fell away, wondering if this was how a family normally acted. Wondering if his real mother had kept him, if this would've been the same. Then again, if she had, he knew he would never have known the four best wonderous people in the world.

"Shawna, go place those in the kitchen; we'll have them after dinner. Although, you, young man, I think you've had your fill for today," Helen said, wagging her finger at him, to which the rest of his family nodded along.

All commotion stopped when Denis just hugged George out of the blue. "Love you, Dad," Denis uttered, feeling his father's arms wrapping around him. Feeling those hands that had guided him shaped him into the man he was rubbing along his back.

"I love you too, Denis," George said; he and Helen knew all about Denis' insecurities, and they made every attempt to squash those fears whenever they popped up.

"Denis, come help me get dinner on the table," Helen said in a motherly voice, holding her hand out to him.

"We're still watching the game tonight, right?" Denis asked, looking at his brother before walking towards his mother.

"You better believe it," Will answered with a firm nod. It was why he was home so early to watch the first game of their city's home team, the Philadelphia Phillies, season.

"So, how was your day, honey?" Helen asked as Denis set the plates around the table while she loaded the shallow dish with their pan-fried pork chops.

"It was okay, but then it got weird," Denis said, taking the dish from his mother.

"Okay, how so?" Helen inquired, placing her right hand on her hip.

"Saw this woman digging through the trash."

"Denis..."

"She wasn't looking for food, like I was," Denis cut in, placing the dish on the table.

"And what was this woman looking for?"

"A bottle kind of looked like the water bottle I threw away; who would place a discarded bottle into a Ziplock-style bag?" Denis asked, shaking his head at the weirdness. However, the look in his mother's eyes had him worried. Equally more so when she took him by the arms.

"Denis, did these people, did they try speaking with you?" Helen asked, fearful of what it meant. She knew why they had bagged the bottle. Why they had taken it in the first place. The police did the same thing. Once an item is thrown away, the person's possession of it ends, and it becomes public domain. So whomever it was wouldn't need a court order for Denis' DNA. Seeing how her son wasn't in trouble with the law, she would know immediately if he was. No. There could be only one reason why someone would take her son's DNA, and she could think of only one person that would want it. Denis' birth parents!

"No," Denis answered truthfully. "Although someone in the back of the car did kind of blind me with the number of flashes as they drove past me. Awful slow too," he mused, thinking back on the matter. "Mom?" Denis asked in a worried tone at the look that was playing within his mother's brown eyes.

"Go to your room," Helen said, a little more forceful than she had wanted. Seeing her son taken aback by her words. Seeing how he was trying to figure out what he had done to warrant her raising her voice.

"Mom, I'm sorry about the brownies; it was just..." His words stilled when Helen caressed his right cheek.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice. Just go to your room for me, okay?" Helen uttered in a loving tone. Noting how Denis looked back at her with that worried look on his face as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom. That once belonged to her and her husband before he was injured when a tweaker was looking to score. Now, what used to be the den served as hers and George's bedroom. "George, we need to talk," Helen stated firmly as she sat down on the couch while George watched the evening news where their armchair once sat. They had given it to Stan before George had come home from the hospital so that he would never feel like he was being left out.

"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."​