My name is Kevin Williams and I'm twenty four years old. I stand 6ft 2in tall and weigh around two ten. Brown hair and brown eyes.
So, here I sit at the kitchen table, wondering what the hell I'm going to do with my life.
What got me here was the second worst thing that could happen. The first was when my Mom died. I was the ripe old age of seventeen. She was walking down the stairs carrying a box of old clothes for Goodwill and lost her footing. She ended up at the bottom with a broken neck. My Dad and I managed, with lots of help, to get through it. I struggled through that year in high school and managed to graduate on time. Our bond was even stronger after going through the grief process.
With fierce determination, I graduated from college with a 3.9 average due to the fact that I didn't want to disappoint my Dad. His plan was for me to take over his business and it was my dream too.
He and a good friend started up an engineering business and built it into a little short of an empire. Their key to success was the government contracts that he had. A high school buddy had gotten into politics and he quickly found out how business was done in Washington. He learned where and how much grease it took to land contracts.
One month after I graduated I was sitting in my office down the hall from his. I heard a woman screaming and bolted out the door. My Dad's secretary was standing in the doorway screaming and pulling her hair. I shoved her out of the way and found my Dad laying on the floor. I shouted at Mary to call 911 and started CPR on Dad. I don't remember how long I kept at it, but the paramedics pushed me out of the way and started to work on him. I sat there in shock, leaning against the wall watching them. He had turned blue and they couldn't find a pulse. Finally they put him on the gurney and rolled him away. I just sat there, with tears running down my face.
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I just sat there trying to find some way to organize what I have to do. I have a $3 billion dollar business that I only have a vague idea how to run and no family to turn to. The only friends I have were in college and for all practical purposes, they're gone. The closest thing to family I have is Marie. She is the housekeeper that Dad hired after Mom died. She had been a friend, lover and a surrogate Mom. I guessed her age in her early thirties.
It all started with her the summer before I left for college. I had been out late partying with some friends. She came in with some of my clean laundry. I always slept in the nude, and I had pushed the blankets down in my sleep. My morning wood was up at full mast.
I heard her clear her throat and I opened my eyes. It took a minute for me to realize what was going on. She was just standing there looking at my cock.
"Wow, Kevin. Nice package you have there."
"Marie! You could knock before you come in."
"I did. You were dead to the world. This way I get to see your package. Very nice."
I started to pull the blankets up, but realized it was too late.
"Go take your shower and piss that away. I'll straighten your room up."
I showered, shaved and brushed my teeth. When I came out she was laying on my bed, stark ass naked.
"Come over here and let's see if we can get that beauty back up. It's time you started learning how to use it."
Not being stupid, I did as directed. That started my education in the finer points of fucking. Over the next four summers and all vacations, we tried to fuck each other to death. I never did know if she was taking care of my Dad too. I never asked, but I suspected. They never let on that they were when I was around. My Dad never remarried was what made me suspect.
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A year has passed and I'm finishing up clearing out the house. I sold my business and the house was in escrow. I gave Marie $1 million. She wouldn't take any more.
"You'll always have a special place in my heart, Marie. Thank you for all you've done for me."
She smiled.
"The pleasure was all mine. You be careful out there. Don't let all of this money change you. You're a good man with a good heart. Stay that way."
We kissed and I watched her drive away. A tear ran down my cheek.
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The money for the business was in an account in the Cayman Islands. I planned on keeping the money from the house closer. I had two weeks to move out. I still didn't have any idea where I was going to land. Once I got the house taken care of I would decide. All that was left was my bedroom furniture, some stuff in the kitchen and a lock box holding my Dad's personal papers. I had donated everything else. I needed to go through them. They were in a metal box he kept in a closet in the back wall of his office. I set it on the table in front of me and opened it.
On top was his and Mom's birth certificates, their marriage license and some pictures they had taken over the years. I laid them on the table and took out an old wrinkled manila envelope. I pulled the papers out and almost had a stroke.
I was adopted.
It took me a while to process it. I sat there, looking at my birth certificate and adoption papers. I'm sure my mouth was hanging open. They had never mentioned it to me. I saw my birth mother's name for the first time in my life.
Sarah Upchurch. It gave her age at fourteen. I had been Kevin Upchurch for just a few days. The dates on paperwork showed that everything was ready to go on the day of my birth. The adoption papers had a little more information, but it was all twenty five years old. I thought it was odd that there was no name for the father. Her Dad probably wasn't real happy about her getting knocked up at fourteen. Sarah may have been worried that her Dad your do some harm to his body if he knew who it was. She must have refused to tell him.
The first thing that came to mind was social media. I opened my Facebook account and typed in her name. I really didn't think anything would be there. She had probably married after all these years. There were three accounts under her name. I opened one and saw a young girl that looked to be in her early twenties. The next one was black. Two strikes. The next one had possibilities. She looked to be in her thirties, Brown hair and brown eyes. Her cover photo showed her sitting in a porch swing holding a cat in her lap. Her profile picture was just of her face. I zoomed in, trying to get a close up of her face. I increased it till it started to pixel out. I just sat there, looking. Could that be her. How do I contact her. I couldn't do a "Hi, Mom. Guess what."
I looked through her pictures and saw one of her in the parking lot in front of an office. The sign on the front of the building said Valley Real Estate. She was standing by the back of a car with California plates. I chuckled to myself thinking of my detective skills. Yeah, a lucky detective.
I opened my search engine and typed in the Real Estate name. Three were three in California. The second one had her listed as an agent. Damn, I'm good. Just call me Sherlock. I was getting excited at the possibility that this was her. My actual real Mom.
I decided to make up a package and send it to her with copies of all the paperwork I had found. I would include a cover letter telling her a little about myself and how I found her. At the bottom I put a post script: "If you aren't my Mother, please let me know and I'll never bother you again."
I dug out my picture album and took out a picture of me in my track uniform from college. I included that, my cell number and email address.
I sprinted out to my car and broke several speed limits going to Kinkos. I got the copies and sped to the post office. I sent it over night, priority mail and anything else that would speed it up. They said it would get there tomorrow afternoon.
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"Good morning, Sarah. Here's some mail for you. You got something going in Phoenix?"
She laid a manila envelope on my desk.
"Thanks, Linda. I'll sell a house anywhere, but I don't have anything going on there."
"You look deep in that computer. Got a tough one going?"
"Sure do. I have the perfect house for my client, but it's over priced by $75K. It's going to be one tough sale."
"I see. It will probably tough to get them down that much. They must have some emotional attachment to the house."