Hidden Memories

by Robin Allen

  Ramion finished his beer. “As usual, Sage, you have good ideas, but they may not matter much. Running for the senate may not be such a good idea. At least not at this time.” He stood up and went into the kitchen.

  “What do you mean?” Sage asked when he returned to the living room.

  “I mean I might have to put the campaign on hold for now,” he said nonchalantly. “Maybe I’ll run in two years.” He popped the top of another can of beer.

  Sage arched a brow. She couldn’t remember a time she’d seen him drink so heavily. She sat beside him on the sofa and turned down the volume on the television. “What are you talking about?”

  “Remember Thomas Madison?”

  “Of course, he’s one of the major contributors to your campaign. He even helped solicit funds from other sources.”

  “Not anymore,” Ramion said and took a swig of beer.

  “What happened?”

  “Last year Edwin and I met with him. He was one hundred percent in my corner. Now he’s pulled his support.”

  “Why?”

  Ramion didn’t respond. Instead, he guzzled the rest of his beer.

  “Why?” Sage repeated.

  “It doesn’t matter why. The point is, he’s out. Changed his mind.”

  “It’s because you’re no longer with Edwin’s law firm, isn’t it?”

  “It never crossed my mind that leaving the law firm would be the biggest mistake of my career.” He crushed the can with his hand.

  “Oh, so I’m a mistake,” Sage said indignantly.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “That’s what you meant, Ramion. I know how important your career is to you.”

  “Of course it is,” Ramion said defensively. “I had everything all planned and mapped out. The Georgia Legislature, the US Congress. But things change.”

  “You know what? It’s not too late,” Sage said, rising to her feet. “I’m sure Edwin would welcome you back to his band of lawyers, and we know Edwinna wouldn’t hesitate to take you back into her bed.” She paused, unable to hide the hurt in her voice. “Is that what you want?”

  Ramion hesitated. He didn’t want to admit that, in fact, he regretted his decision and wished he had waited until he was elected to change law firms.

  He hesitated just long enough to break Sage’s heart. “Go home, Ramion,” she said angrily. “And go back to her, if that’s what you want!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sitting at her desk in the kitchen, Sage opened the bottom drawer where she stored her mail. She sorted the one-week stack of mail into several piles: bills, magazines, invitations, letters and other. She opened her checkbook and wrote checks for various bills, then read through the rest of her mail, noting in her Day-Timer events she wanted to attend.

  While putting the mail into various file folders Sage noticed a large envelope at the bottom of the drawer. She didn’t see a return address, but the handwriting on the envelope was vaguely familiar. She opened the envelope and removed a videotape.

  Why isn’t there a label or anything to identify the tape? Sage wondered.

  She went into the living room and inserted the tape into the VCR. The images that appeared on the screen were grainy and fuzzy, but she immediately recognized the people. Ramion was kissing Edwinna, who was barely clad in a provocative negligee, his mouth covering her lips, his hands fondling her breasts.

  Sage closed her eyes and grabbed her stomach. She felt as if Mike Tyson had punched her in the stomach with a knockout left hook. When Sage opened her eyes, Edwinna had unzipped his pants and taken his penis into her mouth. Sage suffered another Mike Tyson right jab in her stomach—so brutal and painful it reverberated to her heart.

  The shocking video immobilized her—she was too stunned to move, too hurt to feel the tears rolling down her cheeks. She forced herself to look at the date stamp, irrefutable proof of Ramion’s infidelity. Anger and despair rose bitterly to the back of her throat. She pressed the Stop button on the VCR and grabbed her car keys.

  * * * * *

  Sage repeatedly rang Ramion’s doorbell, her anger building with each passing second. When Ramion opened the door, she brushed past him. “You couldn’t stand the thought of losing the election, so you went for the sure thing?”

  “What are you talking about?” Ramion asked, trailing behind Sage, wondering why she was so upset.

  “You haven’t changed. You still reek of ambition,” she fumed, standing in the middle of his great room. She pointed her index finger at Ramion. “Your career comes first—always has and always will.”

  “Sage, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “What better way to make sure Edwinna doesn’t run against you, than to go to bed with her and become her boyfriend again.” Sage popped herself in the head. “Gee, why didn’t I think of that!”

  “I haven’t slept with Edwinna,” he said in a clipped tone, wondering how Edwinna convinced Sage to believe her lies.

  “Just answer one thing for me. Are you screwing her so she won’t run against you, or are you screwing her because you want her back? Maybe you’re going to go back and work for her father. Did you forget to tell me that too?” Sage screamed.

  Ramion was stunned. What the hell was she talking about? Ramion rubbed his hand across the stubble of a beard that had begun to show on his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sage. I’m not going back to work for Edwin, and I definitely have not slept with Edwinna.”

  “You would do anything for your almighty career. You just told me two weeks ago that you regretted leaving Edwin’s political connections for me.”

  “I never said that.” He took a step toward Sage, but she backed away from him. “I was drinking that night. I apologized for what I said.”

  “So the apology was the real lie,” Sage said.

  “I have no interest in her.”

  “Stop lying! If you get back with Edwinna, you win the election. Your career plans stay on target. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “No! But, I’m really getting tired of this line of questioning,” Ramion said impatiently.

  “Oh, so now you want to play lawyer on me. Okay, I’ll make it easy for you. Go back to the security of Edwin and his daughter.”

  “I don’t want her.” Sage’s anger flared out of control.

  “Then why were you fucking her two weeks ago?”

  Ramion looked at Sage as if she were an alien that had landed in the middle of his backyard. “I haven’t touched her. If she told you that, she was lying.”

  “People might lie. Cameras don’t.”

  With his jaws clenched, Ramion said, “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about! I have not slept with her, and I’m getting damned sick and tired of telling you that.”

  “Counselor, here’s exhibit one,” Sage said, waving the videotape in the air. “Let the record show a videotape of your sexual liaison with Edwinna two weeks ago.”

  Sage threw the videotape at Ramion, almost hitting him in the face.

  Blinking back tears, she tried to muffle her sobs with the back of her hand. With tears shimmering in her eyes, she said, “Let the record further show that the wedding between Sage Kennedy and Ramion Sandidge is off.”

  She spun around and ran out the door.

  * * * * *

  “Excuse me,” Sage said impatiently for the third time to the two clerks huddled together at a desk. She stood at the counter at the local offices of the Veterans Administration. “Can I get some service, please?” Her words were clear, her tone insistent and indignant.

  “Just a minute,” one of the clerks responded without looking up. Laughing sharply, the dark-skinned woman with wide hips stood up, holding a paperback book in her hand. “Whoa, girl, this stuff gets me heated up,” she said, fanning herself. She shook her head, reluctantly placing the book on the table. “I’m gonna go eat my lunch.”

  “You better be back here at one o’clock. I got some business to take care of,”
said the bleached-blonde black clerk.

  The first woman waddled down the aisle and, without looking back, said, “LaKeisha, you tripping!”

  “Excuse me,” Sage said, her voice sharp and haughty.

  “I’m coming,” the clerk said as she sauntered over to the counter. Her blonde braided hair was wrapped around her head like a beehive. “What can I do for you?”

  “Finally. I tried calling, but I was either put on indefinite hold or connected to a computer that couldn’t give me any information.”

  “I’m sorry about that, but that’s the way it is around here. What were you calling for?”

  “I was trying to get some information about my father. He was in the Vietnam War.”

  “I’m sorry, Lady, but if you want to know about benefits, you’re in the wrong place. This department doesn’t handle stuff like that!”

  Sage gave the clerk an imperious look. “I want to know what happened to him.”

  “What do you mean?” the clerk asked, blowing a big bubble.

  “Here’s his Social Security number,” Sage said, handing the clerk a piece of paper. “Tell me what’s in the files. What happened to him?”

  “You trying to find him, huh? I never knew where my Daddy went either.”

  The clerk walked over to a row of computers. After trying several computers, she found one that worked. She entered her access code and keyed in a series of numbers and letters. She entered Satchel Kennedy’s Social Security number and waited a few minutes for the computer to retrieve the file. She then read the information. After a few minutes, she said loudly, “I’m sorry, Miss, but the computer says he dead. He was killed in the Vietnam War.” The clerk paused for a minute and said, “They didn’t tell your mama?”

  Sage ignored the clerk’s inquisitive comment. “What’s the date on the report? Were you able to access the whole file?”

  “No, it just gives you certain information. If you want, I can run a search and the system will retrieve all his files.”

  “Yes,” Sage said, nodding her head. “Run a search.”

  “It takes a couple of weeks. You should get something in the mail.”

  “Thank you,” Sage said, and turned away from the counter and headed toward the door. Face it, Sage thought. He was killed in Vietnam. You just wanted to believe he was alive. Give up on your fifteen seconds of hope.

  * * * * *

  Sage impatiently tapped her foot as she waited in the lobby of the Waldorf Hotel for a limousine to take her back to her hotel. Awake since five o’clock, Sage’s day had been extremely busy—the Governors’ Conference, dinner at the White House and a cocktail party.

  But she was glad to be busy, glad to get away from Ramion’s phone calls and claims of denial, for a few days. She dreaded tomorrow, when she would return to Atlanta and face her crumbling life.

  Glancing at her watch, she eased over to the concierge’s desk. “Excuse me,” she said. “Can you find out if the limo for Kennedy is on its way?”

  The young concierge, attired in a maroon uniform and hat, said, “There’s been an accident on the freeway, so he might be stuck in traffic. But I’ll call and see what I can find out.”

  “Thank you.” Pointing to the sofa across from the hotel bar, she said, “I’ll be sitting over there.” She held on to the railing as she trotted down the stairs.

  A man spoke to her when she reached the bottom of the steps. “Hello. I’m Enrique Lopez. I work for…”

  “Ambassador Lopez from Puerto Rico,” Sage said, gazing into the blackest eyes she had ever seen, eyes that elicited a smile from her. His hair was jet black, a striking complement to his olive complexion.

  Sage extended her arm, expecting a handshake, but Enrique took Sage’s hand, leaned over and kissed it. Flattered, Sage’s smile widened and she said, “I’m Sage…”

  “Kennedy,” he said, finishing her sentence. “You work for Governor Hudson.”

  “It’s a pleasure meeting you.”

  “I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he said, his grin flirtatious, “when I could meet you.” He spoke with the smooth, seductive accent of South American aristocracy.

  Suddenly Sage forgot how tired she was. “I guess you’re glad this conference is over so you can go back home.”

  “Actually, it saddens me that it is over. For me, it means only that I won’t be able to see you.” He exuded a foreign, exotic charm.

  You’re a dangerous flirt, Sage thought, deciding not to fuel the situation by responding. “The conference was very informative.”

  “Yes, it was. Governor Hudson gave a dynamic speech.”

  “Yes, he did,” Sage said. She glanced away, searching for the concierge, yet not finding him.

  “Actually, my colleague was supposed to come, but his wife went into labor and he couldn’t leave. So being single, unattached and without family obligations, it was decided that I could come in his place.” His eyes lingering on hers, Enrique added, “Lucky for me.”

  “Of course. How often does a person get to dine with the president of the United States?”

  “Perhaps only once in a lifetime. Just like this meeting with you. Maybe it was destiny.”

  Sage cocked her eyebrows. “Destiny?” she repeated incredulously.

  “Perhaps my colleague’s bambino timed his arrival with this journey because I was destined to meet you.”

  “Or maybe it is simply coincidence,” Sage said. His crazy logic made her wonder about the tape of Edwinna and Ramion.

  “You don’t believe in destiny? How unromantic. How un-American.”

  “How dare I be un-American?” Sage said with a teasing smile, thinking, This man could make me forget my name, maybe even Ramion.

  “I don’t want to rely on destiny or coincidence to see you again.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I’d like to see you again. I don’t want to leave it up to the gods of fate and chance.”

  “I’m flattered, Enrique,” she said. “But I don’t think so.” To herself she thought, I’d follow you back to Puerto Rico if I thought it would help me forget Ramion.

  He nodded. “I noticed the ring. You are engaged.”

  Pain knifed through her as she followed his gaze to her engagement ring, remembering the romantic moment when Ramion had slipped it on her finger. She still wasn’t ready to face the reality of his betrayal. The past few days had been a much-needed distraction. “Actually, I was engaged,” Sage said, feeling a mixture of strange emotions to hear those words out loud.

  “Ah, past tense. Then this is destiny,” Enrique said with a seductive smile. “You are a single woman. From the look on your face, this breakup has been recent.”

  “Yes,” Sage said, as images of Ramion kissing Edwinna flashed through her mind. She remembered the suffocating sensation she’d felt around her chest, that had threatened to steal her heartbeat. It hovered there still.

  “Let me help you forget,” he said, edging closer to Sage. “I too am single, and I would very much love to have your company.”

  She could smell his cologne—a musky, sexy scent. I wonder if you look as good without your clothes, Sage thought. “I can’t,” she said, trying to deny her attraction to Enrique.

  “Ah, you think you’re not ready. But I’ve been watching you, and I know you’ve been watching me.”

  “That’s because you were looking at me. It’s a natural reaction.”

  “You were looking because you felt the same thing.”

  Sage would never admit he was right.

  “He doesn’t know how lucky he is,” Enrique said. “Or how lucky he was.”

  Sage noticed the concierge at the hotel entrance, waving at her. “My limo’s here.”

  “Are you sure I can’t change your mind? We can go anywhere you like. I have a plane at my disposal.”

  You know how to tempt a girl, Sage thought. “I can’t,” she said.

  “I think you want to.”

  Sage didn’t respon
d. She gazed into his dreamy eyes. She felt hypnotized by his charm.

  Enrique kissed the back of her slender hand. “Let’s just go into the bar over there. We’ll have just one drink.”

  “One drink,” Sage said.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A mob of reporters and cameramen swarmed around Sage like a hive of bees as she emerged from the state capitol building. Sage greeted the reporters she knew and agreed to three brief interviews. Tamara Banks, a popular reporter from the Fox network, stepped forward and signaled to the camera crew to start filming. Speaking into the microphone, Tamara asked Sage, “Do you have a statement about today’s election?”

  Attired in a hunter-green business suit, Sage turned on her media face: head held upward, bright smile and warm, friendly eyes. “We’re happy that so many people went to the polls. Special elections don’t usually draw the masses, but we appreciate the fact that people are taking time out of their busy day to vote for a new flag.”

  Tamara moved the microphone away from Sage and spoke into it. “The state flag has been such a controversial issue, why do you think so many voters went to the polls?”

  “I believe people realize they can’t stop the winds of change. So they decided to be a part of the process. We wanted our citizens to be involved. That’s why we held a special election, so Georgians can be part of this history-making event.”

  “Are you surprised that flag B was chosen?”

  “I think both designs are beautiful and special. Flag B is similar to the national flag, which is probably why it’s getting the most votes.”

  Sage held up her hands, indicating that she wasn’t going to answer any more questions. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I have to say at this time.”

  * * * * *

  Ramion spotted the license plate on the black 500 Mercedes-Benz—EDWINNA. He closed his eyes, as if pressing his lids tightly would erase the memory of going car shopping with Edwinna when she purchased it. He stealthily studied her movements, like an undercover detective, watching her park the car, get out with a Gucci handbag dangling from her shoulder and reach inside the trunk to retrieve several shopping bags. He never knew a woman who could shop so much. If Edwinna wasn’t bringing bags home from boutiques or department stores, she was opening boxes shipped to her condo by catalog companies.