One Voice

Prologe:

A very wealthy man was set to propose to his long-time girlfriend. His check of her phone-locating app showed her present location to be at the lakeshore. He considered it to be a sign, thinking it the perfect romantic setting, and drove to join her there. Upon his arrival, he discovered that not only was she not alone, but she was also fervently making out with his best friend. Wanting never to see it or either of them again, he dropped the ostentatious, custom-made engagement ring and ground it into the beach sand under his shoe. Unseen, he then exited both of their lives forever.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I was born and raised in a hard-working-class family. My parents both worked long hours at menial jobs to support me and my sister. She was a year older than me so I became the protective younger brother even though she oft resented my helicoptering. We may not have had the trappings of wealth, but we were the envy of many due to how close we were. Love ran deep in our blood and pervaded everything that we did. We were as close-knit as any four people could be and attended Church regularly. My sister, Anita, and I had our share of disagreements but we had each other's backs if any kind of trouble found either one of us.

Anita was accepted into our state college but dropped out after a year to marry Darren Efland, the man of her dreams. From then on, all she wanted to do was love him and have his babies. Darren had a lot going for him, a college degree, and landed a decent marketing job pulling down good money. He is also a volunteer fireman. He and I get along quite well.

Since Anita had not completely emptied the coffers of the college funds our parents had scrimped together for us, I was afforded the same opportunity at our state college. I went the full four years and graduated with a bachelor's degree in Occupational Therapy. Fortunately, I managed to be in the right place at the right time and was accepted into a position with New Directions, Inc. working with people to help them regain mobility or alternative function capabilities to cope with everyday life. I thoroughly enjoyed my work. Helping others was ingrained in me by my family life, and I was well remunerated for it.

I had dated my high school sweetheart, Chelsea Higgins, all through college and miraculously we remained together until I became gainfully employed. We'd met in Church in our teens and were like two peas in a pod. She was a regular wallflower when I first met her, painfully shy and introverted. Slowly, over time I brought her out of her shell and supported her developing self-confidence. She had blossomed from the ugly duckling to the proverbial swan, elegant and classically beautiful in every way, inside and out. Everyone that met her instantly fell in love with her for her looks and magnanimous personality but her heart was attached to mine and mine alone.

Not wanting anyone else to capture her attention, I married her and we embarked on our happy life together. After eight blissful years, we'd had three wonderful children, two girls, and a boy. Amber, 6, and Rhonda 3, were spitting images of their mother, and little Neil, 4 was my best buddy. We men stuck together to counter all the estrogen in the house. We'd recently moved into a very nice $950,000.00 home in a friendly neighborhood with great schools. We were an all-American family.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Well, as I live and breathe, Paul Blaylock has decided to grace us with his presence this morning," Rachael kiddingly exclaimed.

"I'm not late. It's still one minute 'till eight o'clock. I'm on time by the clock. You're just jealous because I have such a hard time leaving Chelsea every morning and all you have is your cat," I said jokingly.

"Hey, my cat's been more consistent than any boyfriend so far. Don't knock it. Tabby misses me when I'm gone," Rachael ribbed.

"Alright, alright, I'll give you that but it's not the same and you know it. How's the day shaping up so far?" I asked.

"Looks like a fairly steady schedule. In addition to our resident regulars, we have four appointments this morning. But Paul, I'm still trying to figure out how you did it."

"Did what?"

"What do you mean, 'did what'? How could you have been at a movie premiere in California yesterday and then back here in lowly old North Carolina this morning? Did somebody hire you to impersonate someone else? What gives, Paul? Spill the beans!" Rachael asked intently.

"Impersonate? California? Me? Rachael, I've never been to California in my life. What kind of nonsense are you spouting now? Is today April Fool's Day or something? What are you up to?"

"I'm not up to anything. YOU are! I saw you on TV last night clear as day at a movie premiere. It was you! I'd swear it on a stack of Bibles. Let me think. What was the name of that new movie? I think it was 'Candlelight Virgil' or some weird name like that. When you stepped out on that red carpet my jaw nearly dropped to the floor. They showed your name as Pierre Dumont. But it was you, your voice, and everything. You were faking this odd French accent; it was hilarious."

"Rachael you must be on drugs or something. It was not me. I've never been to California nor any movie premieres. And you're saying this guy looks a lot like me?"

"No. I'm not saying he looks a lot LIKE you. He IS you, exactly the same, identical in every way! I'm not kidding," she insisted.

"Well, they say everybody has a doppelganger. Maybe this guy is mine. So you say he's an actor? It could be worse. He could have been a pimp or a drug dealer. At least my double has class," I laughed. "We better get to work. I'll have to check this guy out and see if you're just pulling my leg," I added.

I had a full schedule that morning and as I was sitting down catching a bite to eat for lunch, I decided to look up this movie and this guy for kicks to see what hijinks Rachael was trying to pull on me. I'll admit, the resemblance was uncanny. He dresses much differently than me but it was almost like looking in a mirror. He had a very slight mustache that I lacked, but aside from that, he was a dead-ringer. I looked up his stats. Same height, same build, same age, same eye, and hair color. Ahhh, but the big difference is that he's from Europe and I'm American.

Later that night at home, I showed Chelsea what I'd found on the web and she was fascinated at the resemblance. "Paul, you've just GOT to contact this guy and see if there's any connection. I've never seen anything this close before in appearance from two different countries," she suggested.

"Nah, it's just a coincidence, I'm sure. Everyone has a double somewhere. Now I know who mine is. I bet there is a Chelsea twin out there somewhere who'd love to meet you. But you know what?"

"What? Sexy man," she cooed as she hugged me close and looked in my eyes."

"Even if there was another Chelsea somewhere, your exact double, she might look like you but there's no way she could duplicate your awesome loving personality. Girl, you're one of a kind!" I said as I kissed her suggestively.

She added, "Let's take this to the bedroom cowboy, and find out how unique we both are." And we did.

I thought no more about the coincidental likeness I had with this French dude. It was no more than a funny blip for a day or two for comical casual conversation. Imagine my surprise when I arrived home after work three weeks later to a very excited Chelsea.

"Honey, you aren't going to believe this. He wants to meet you!" She blurted.

"Who wants to meet me and why?" I puzzled.

"Pierre, Pierre Dumont. It turns out he's just as fascinated by your likenesses as we are," she enthused.

"What are you talking about, Chelsea? How does this guy even know I exist, must less want to meet me?"

"Me, it was me. I sent him your picture, you know, the one of you in that snazzy suit at my cousin's wedding? I forwarded it to his secretary and he's just as curious about this as we are. He's coming here and wants to meet you Saturday at the Excelsior Hotel. Isn't this exciting?"

"Exciting? It was a curiosity for a day or two but I've been over that for a while now. Why did you send my picture without asking me first?"

"Because silly. You'd have said no. Besides, it's not every day you get to meet a bona fide actor. Even if nothing comes of it, don't you think it's an exciting opportunity? He's all the rage in Europe. He's very popular over there on a TV series that's a big hit show. What if he's a long-lost brother that you never knew you had? Wouldn't that be something?"

"No it wouldn't and you're right. I wish you hadn't done that," I asserted.

"But why, Paul? What could be the harm in it?" She questioned.

"You mean besides suggesting my parents separated me from my brother at birth? How do you think it will make them feel with me questioning my identity and looking for family beyond them?" I said heatedly.

"Oh. I didn't think about that. But your parents are super wonderful people. They'll understand. They're very forgiving, you know that" she provided.

"That's true but I'd just as soon not do something requiring their forgiveness. Let me talk to my parents first and then I'll let you know if I'm interested in seeing this guy."

"Oh but you must. It's already arranged and everything. You HAVE to go!" She pleaded.

"I haven't arranged anything, YOU have. If my parents prefer that I not meet this guy, then I won't. Understand? If it's that important to you, then YOU can go. I will NOT insult my parents no matter how badly you want me to meet this guy," I established.

"But if you don't go, you'd be embarrassing me terribly. How could you do that to me?"

"I haven't done anything to you except come home from work today to discover you've been doing things behind my back. If you're embarrassed, you embarrassed yourself, Chelsea. I have done nothing to embarrass you, nothing at all."

She took on a disheartened demeanor. She knows very well how loyal I am to my parents and look up to them. "Go ahead and talk to them, Paul. I understand. But show them his picture when you do and explain how eerie it is for you to look so much alike. They might be just as curious as I am, and give you their blessing."

The next evening, I stopped by my parents' home and had a talk with them about the unusual situation. They were just as baffled as I was but then they shocked me with some news I'd never been told.

My mother began the story, "Honey, you're an adult now and in light of this weird situation, it's time you learned something about yourself. You're father and I tried desperately to have children and were unsuccessful. The doctors said your father was fine. It was me, something about an internal defect that prevented me from bearing children. We couldn't imagine having a life bereft of little ones, so we adopted. Your sister was a Godsend and we couldn't have been happier with her. But then a year later, we were contacted by the adoption agency to see if we were interested in adopting a little boy. The only catch was that the adoption had to take place within twenty-four hours. Beyond that, the opportunity would go to someone else. We prayed and prayed over it and felt like God was fulfilling our desire to have more than one child. All of the papers were sealed. When we signed and picked you up, we had no information whatsoever as to who your biological parents were or any other information on your background. The only stipulation we had to agree to was to name you Paul. Of course, your last name would be ours."

She continued, "We wanted to tell you numerous times but wondered if you'd feel like you weren't wanted by your biological parents or some other negative implications. We did everything in our power to demonstrate our love and care for you and Anita. We would have told you instantly if there had been any kind of serious medical situation with you or our precious grandchildren, but all of you seem to be so healthy and happy. Why would we disturb that? So we decided to tell you if or when you ever had reason to question your origins. You're our son, Paul, and nothing will ever change that. But if this man, this Pierre fella is related to you somehow, we can understand how you might want to find that out. You have our blessing to investigate it if you wish to, Paul. Who knows where it might lead?"

If I'd taken half a breath, every one of my buttons would have popped off my shirt. I couldn't have loved or been more proud of two people than what I felt for that very special couple. I hugged them tearfully and thanked them for giving me what no one else could have half as well, a loving home.

Chelsea was relieved that I reluctantly agreed to meet Pierre Dumont to determine if there was more to us than meets the eye. When we arrived at the Excelsior Hotel, we called the number Chelsea had been provided. A burly man came down the elevator and met us in the lobby. He wanded us with a metal detector advising us that it was merely a security formality to protect his client. He was astonished at first seeing me saying that, if he didn't know that Pierre was upstairs, he could have easily mistaken me for him. As we walked into the presidential suite of the hotel, the security guard said, "Boss, you aren't gonna believe this," and in we walked.

When Pierre and I first took in the other, we were mesmerized and rendered speechless. Every feature was the same, height, and weight within two pounds; it was astounding. Pierre asked me to take off my left shoe and sock. I immediately knew why. We both had webbed toes between the same two toes on the same foot. We placed our palms against the other. Every finger was identical down to the last detail. We both wrinkled our brows the same way and had the same dimple appear when we smiled.

Chelsea couldn't help herself, "Oh my God. It's true. But how? How can this be?"

Finally, I gathered enough composure to say, "Good evening Mr. Dumont. I'm Paul Blaylock. I recently found out from my parents that I had been adopted. You?"

"The same," he said. "I've got some legal eagles digging into the past even as we speak. I'm sure we both feel that there's an inexplicable connection here but all the same, I must ask, would you be okay with submitting a DNA sample so we can determine with certainty what we both believe might be true?"

"Of course. I was about to suggest the same thing. Seeing pictures is one thing but being in the same room with you here and seeing us together in person is... is..."

"I know, it's crazy isn't it?" Pierre exclaimed. "By the way, this is Helena Moreno, my girl Friday who I couldn't live without. She's the one who responded to your wife and set up this meeting."

As I looked over to greet Helena, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. She reminded me of one of those European fashion models who'd stepped right out of the pages of a trendy magazine. Although I tried to reign it in, she sensed my magnetic attraction as if it had been expected. She appeared to be five years younger than me, with a perfect body built for..... I pulled myself together and greeted her. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Moreno." She said nothing but politely smiled and nodded as I shook her hand. "And this is my darling bride, Chelsea."

"It is a delight to meet you, Chelsea," Pierre said to her in his thick French accent as he took and kissed her hand repeatedly. "My counterpart is a very fortunate man," he charmed. "I'd like to invite you two to be my guests downstairs at Excelsior's Restaurant. It's a five-star review that I hope will please you. Shall we go?"

The obsequious waiter was deferential in his service. I supposed that this was the type of treatment Pierre was accustomed to. We were treated to polite conversation and speculation about the possibilities of our being related. I agreed with Pierre that we should wait on DNA results before speculating much further. Helena quietly listened intently to our conversation as Pierre and I asked and answered many questions about our habits, mannerisms, and behavior, for comparison. We left that night with more questions than answers. Chelsea was thrilled at the prospect of our fraternal connection and peppered Pierre with questions about his rise to celebrity and stardom. Pierre seemed pleased with her interest. He was hoping she would soon become his sister-in-law and fawned over her.

Three days later it was confirmed. Our DNA was identical which only happens in about thirty-five percent of identical twins. Chelsea was excited beyond measure when I arrived home that night from work.

"It's official, honey! You and Pierre are identical in every way. You had to have shared the same biological parents, there's no doubt. You never had a brother before and now you do. And he's filthy rich on top of that! He's a well-known star in Europe and is just now trying to break into Hollywood. Can you imagine? Our children have a rich uncle!"

"Chelsea, I don't care how wealthy he is. That has nothing to do with the fact that we were separated at birth for some reason and never knew about each other until now. That's the question I'd like to have answered, not how much money Pierre has in the bank."

"Honey, he called earlier today. He wants you by his side when he makes the press announcement to the world that he has recently discovered an identical twin brother. He said he's never been more excited in his entire life! Helena secured first-class tickets to fly us to California, Saturday, where he'll hold a press conference over the weekend. He'll have a limo pick us up at the airport. Isn't that exciting?"

"Chelsea, I just found out for certain that I have a brother. I'm not interested in all the hoopla accompanying his celebrity as an actor. I have no desire to be in the limelight. That's HIS thing, not mine. I'd rather he and I simply spend some time together one-on-one to get to know each other better and establish the foundation for what I hope to be a great relationship going forward. There are still many questions to be answered; for example, who are our parents? Why were we separated at birth? Why were we put up for adoption rather than taken in by close relatives? Why were the records sealed? Why didn't our biological parents want us to be together? How did he end up in France and me in the States on two different continents? Where are our biological parents now? Are they still alive?"

"I know, I know, sweetheart. That's all part of it too, and you're right. All those questions would be nice to have answered. Pierre said he'll fly us in Saturday afternoon and we'll be his guests at an expensive hotel there. We'll have a nice dinner, visit some clubs, and then conduct the press conference on Sunday. I can't believe we're related to a famous actor!"

"He's famous in Europe, Chelsea, not here in the States but I'm sure he hopes to change that. I hope he isn't using our newfound status as a publicity stunt to enhance his career."

"What would it matter if he was, Honey? How would that be a bad thing?"

"Do you want paparazzi and celebrity hounds looking us up and bothering us here at home trying to get to him? If everyone knew about us, they might want to do interviews about our life histories and all that."

"To be honest, sweetie, I hadn't thought about that. Why are you being such a killjoy? Why can't we just be excited about something wonderful happening in our life for a change?" She appealed.

"I just want to protect my family, especially the children. I've read celebrity horror stories about harassment and loss of privacy for family members. I hope that doesn't happen to us; perhaps it won't. I'm just trying to think ahead responsibly."

"You're always the thinker, Paul. Whatever you think is best but can't I be a little excited about this? Is that such a sin?" She implored.