by Donna Hill
“We know for a fact that you’ve been involved with Ms. Hamilton for some time. We’re certain that you’re not the kind of man who would sit back idly and watch her world crumble down around her. That’s what makes you such a credible candidate. We want her out. Just think about what the positive publicity will do for the Harrison case. Then just imagine how negative publicity could destroy it.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Of course not. Just advising you of the facts.”
“I have no desire to enter politics. I don’t have the background or…”
“If you’re concerned about your capabilities, believe me, you’re quite capable. Anyone who has the wherewithal to operate a law firm, lobby for policy change, and start a string of foundations has more than enough qualifications to get the job done.”
“I won’t do this.”
“Oh, I think you will. You see, Mr. Montgomery, you have the power to salvage or destroy a career. One phone call from me and Ms. Hamilton is finished.”
He had to think. He needed time. He needed his own plan. “I’ll have to think about this,” he said finally.
Stan shook his head. “I’m sorry, but we’re quite out of time. Your name must be put on the ballot immediately to be eligible for the general election.”
“How do you expect me to make this kind of decision, just like that?” he spat.
“Decisions like this and more are made in a split second every day, Mr. Montgomery,” Livingston said in a low lazy drawl. Justin slanted him a look but ignored the comment.
“What if I say yes? There’s no guarantee that Ms. Hamilton would drop out of the race.”
“That’s not really your worry, Mr. Montgomery. We’ll take care of everything.”
Justin felt his chest heave with frustration. As much as he abhorred what she’d done, he knew he could not take part in her destruction. His dark eyes narrowed to slits. “What assurances do I have that this information won’t be used?”
Stan Waters wiped his mouth with the linen napkin. “There would be no point in that, Mr. Montgomery,” he said calmly, and signaled the waiter for a round of drinks. “We’ll take that as a yes.”
Before Justin had a chance to react, a series of light bulbs flashed in his face. Three reporters, two of whom he knew, began barreling him with questions about his sudden leap into the political pool. Somehow Justin had the presence of mind to repeat the standard “No comment at this time.” And even as he tried to figure out how the press knew, he needed only to look at Stan Waters to find the answer to his question. For the first time since they all sat down, Stan Waters had little to say. He sat back in his seat and smiled.
Vaughn’s plane landed in Atlanta shortly before 5 P.M.. If the cab kept up the steady speed in and out of rush hour traffic, she could reach the cemetery before it closed for the day.
She’d completed this ritual for the past fifteen years, she thought, leaning back against the worn leather of the cab. Today, May 20, would be the last. She’d never shared this secret part of her life with anyone. It had always been too sacred to her. Not even her mother knew the truth. Sheila believed that she made her yearly trip to Atlanta to visit Brian’s grave, not the tiny headstone of her daughter.
“Keep the meter running,” she instructed the driver as she alighted from the cab. Slowly, she entered the small, precisely cared for grounds with the two bouquets she’d purchased at the airport.
The short walk up the slight incline and across the stretch of emerald-green lawn gave Vaughn the opportunity to think. The old, dark, tumbling thoughts scrambled noisely around in her head, fighting to take shape as she neared the familiar marking.
Brian Everett Willis, Jr., beloved son of Claire and Brian Willis, Sr. Too young to know, was his epitaph. Gently she placed the bouquet across the headstone and touched the smooth, cool surface. She straightened up and moved away.
She rounded a short turn, and there, set on a hill beneath a weeping willow, was the headstone of her daughter.
As she neared, poignant memories of what caused her to be there rushed to the surface. This time, she allowed the memories to wash over her. She’d always shoved them aside and gone through the motions of her daily ritual. But today was different. Today was a day of cleansing.
It was three months before graduation. She and Brian had been seeing each other for the entire senior year. He’d been pressuring her to “give it up,” as he put it. She’d refused, until finally, one night after coming home from a school dance, Brian used all of his youthful skills and she finally gave in—in the back of his car.
Her first experience was awkward, painful, and embarrassing. Brian swore that it would get better. It didn’t. Their clumsy effort at lovemaking took place every Friday night, until Vaughn found out that she was pregnant.
At first she was terrified of her parents’ reaction, and frightened for her own future. But everything would be fine, she convinced herself, as she waited for Brian on the porch of her home.
When his car pulled up, she tried to smile, but her lips were trembling so badly it was impossible. She hopped down the stairs and hurried around to the passenger side of the car and got in.
“Hey babe,” Brian greeted. “Lookin’ good tonight. I figured we’d go see a movie, grab something to eat and then…” He turned and winked at her.
Brian was probably the best looking guy in the elite private academy they attended. At eighteen he was already over six-feet tall, with smooth caramel-colored skin, silky dark brown hair, and the most exotic eyes she’d ever seen. He had thick silky eyebrows and long curling lashes that seemed to outline those remarkable eyes, dark and tipped up at the corners. Girls tripped over themselves trying to get Brian’s attention. She told herself that she should feel lucky. The girls she knew would die to be in her shoes. But at that moment, she didn’t feel so lucky.
“Brian, we need to talk.”
He frowned and blew out a breath. “What about?”
“I…I went to the doctor today.” She saw his eyes snap. She spilled out the rest before she lost her nerve. “I’m pregnant.”
“Yeah. Who’s is it?”
She felt as if she’d been drop-kicked. All of the air in her lungs rushed out in a gush. “What? You know you’re the only one I’ve been with.” Her voice rose in agitation along with her nerves. “How could you ask me something like that?”
“Easy. I ain’t about having no babies. I have plans for my life and that’s not one of them. If you went and got yourself pregnant, it’s your problem.”
Vaughn’s heart was pounding so hard and so fast she couldn’t think. Her hands started to shake. “It’s your baby,” she said firmly. “It may not fit in your plans, but it’s in them.” She folded her arms beneath her growing, tender breasts.
Brian made a noise of disgust. “I’m not really in the mood for hanging out tonight,” he said, as though he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “Know what I mean?” He leaned across her stiff form and released the lock on the passenger door. She didn’t have to be told. She took the hint.
“I’ll call you,” he said, as he put the car in gear. He turned and looked at her gently. “We’ll talk. I promise,” he said. As she watched him drive down the road, she knew he wouldn’t call, and she felt very alone.
The next morning, news of the accident was in every paper and on every television station. Brian had been speeding around a sharp turn, lost control of his car, and slammed into a dividing wall. Vaughn was numb.
Elliott, who was a close friend of Brian’s father, spoke at the eulogy at Brian Sr.’s request. Even back then they were enmeshed in politics. Brian Sr. was the district attorney and her father was a circuit court judge.
Vaughn’s grief and guilt overwhelmed her. She believed it was her fault that Brian—upset by the news of her pregnancy—had driven so recklessly. All she had left of their youthful romance was the tiny baby growing inside of her.
It wasn’t until two months later th
at she finally told her parents. Her mother wept, her father swore that he would kill the son of a bitch that took advantage of his daughter.
“Who’s the father?” he demanded.
“Brian,” she whispered.
Her father sank heavily into the chair. His face was a mask of horror. For several long moments the only sound in the spotless kitchen was the sound of her mother’s muffled sobs.
When her father finally spoke again, his ominous voice was directed toward her mother. He refused to look at Vaughn. “Get her to a doctor in Atlanta. Find out how many months. Pack her bags. After graduation she’s leaving. When she has the…child, she can come home and resume her life. No one is ever to speak of this again. No one is ever to know. No one.”
Less than five hours after she received her high school diploma, Vaughn and her mother were on a plane bound for Atlanta. She arrived at the home of a mid-wife and was introduced as Valerie Mason.
Vaughn believed that the most tragic day of her life was the day she delivered by Cesarean section a healthy baby girl, who was taken from her only moments after the birth and was never to be seen by her again. That day dimmed in comparison to the morning about six weeks after her return home. Her father very calmly entered her room and told her that the baby’s adoptive family had been abusive and that the baby was dead. That morning a part of her died as well. Lost was any hope of ever reuniting with her baby, and the pain lingered on every day of her life.
Now that she’d finally allowed the hurt to take shape, she was able to revisit a point in time that had irrevocably changed her life, and slowly she let go of the guilt. She recognized that it was not her fault. Brian drove his car into the wall. Her father selected the family that took her daughter. What she had been guilty of was not taking charge of her life sooner.
The images in front of her became cloudy. Her eyes wouldn’t focus and she realized that she was crying. Standing in front of the marble headstone, she cried bitter tears.
The marble marker was more symbolic than anything else. She’d never been allowed to go to the funeral and she had no idea where her baby was buried. She’d selected the spot because she felt that her baby should be close to her father and near the family plot.
The engraving was simple. Valerie Mason, You Were Loved.
Vaughn straightened up and wiped her eyes. She’d given the baby the name she’d used at the hospice. Now it was time to let it go. Let go of the guilt, the remorse, the anger, and begin to heal. She placed the bouquet against the headstone. “Goodbye,” she whispered, turned, and walked back to the waiting cab.
Justin paced his living room. He knew that what he’d agreed to was a mistake. But at the time, he didn’t see any way around it. His motivation had been to protect Vaughn. They knew it and they used it.
He was nearly beside himself with frustration. His head pounded, his stomach was twisted into a knot, and he couldn’t get his thoughts to focus. But he had to. He had to figure things out. He had to get to Vaughn and explain the situation to her before the entire bizarre episode exploded in her face. No matter what she’d done, she didn’t deserve to find out on the eleven o’clock news. If he only knew where she went in Atlanta and when she’d be back…he could at least warn her. He’d already tried her office, but everyone had left for the weekend. Crystal Porter was his next hope but her number was unlisted. He’d already left three urgent messages on Vaughn’s answering machine. There was nothing else he could do.
Finally, mentally and physically washed out, he collapsed in the loveseat. He rested his head against the back cushion and closed his eyes. Instantly, bursts of light reminiscent of the camera flashes popped before his eyes. Adrenaline charged through his veins and he pushed himself up out of his seat. Just as he began pacing again the phone rang.
He snatched up the cordless phone. “Yes,” he barked.
“Listen, man, I don’t know what the hell is going on,” Sean stated, “but you’d better turn on the T.V. Now!”
In quick strides Justin crossed the room, grabbed the remote, and pushed the “on” button.
“…In a surprise announcement today, businessman and criminal attorney Justin Montgomery threw his hat into the ring for the Democratic nomination for the congressional seat, just making the deadline…”
He didn’t need to hear any more. All he could imagine was Vaughn’s horror at finding out this way.
“Sean…are you still there?”
“Yeah. What’s going on?”
“We need to talk.”
“No kiddin’.”
“Can you come here?”
“See you in twenty minutes.”
Elliott watched the broadcast in the privacy of his study. Maybe now Vaughn would trust his judgment and listen to his plans for her success. It was obvious that Justin Montgomery meant her no good. Wasn’t it? He’d be there waiting to comfort her when she came to him and admitted that he’d been right all along.
In the upstairs bedroom, Sheila’s heart was breaking for her child. When would she ever find happiness? Could it be possible that Justin Montgomery had been using Vaughn all along? Was it he who’d leaked the information about Vaughn’s plans to the press? As much as the evidence pointed an accusing finger at Justin Montgomery, a dark corner of her heart believed that he was just as much a victim as Vaughn. But to give voice to her suspicions would crumble the world as she knew it.
Instead of going to her hotel as she’d originally planned, Vaughn instructed the driver to take her back to the airport. There was no reason for her to remain in Atlanta. She’d done what she came to do. Now it was time to go back and begin to make things right between her and Justin. Her love for him could be all encompassing now, free from the ghosts of her past. She could love him as thoroughly as her heart allowed—as he allowed.
When she reached the airport she made a quick call to Crystal, but got her machine instead. She left her flight number and a message that she was on her way back. On the flight home she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her soul. Now she could tell Justin everything—about her pregnancy, her baby’s untimely death, and her years of bending to her father’s wishes. Each individual was in control of their own destiny, she reasoned. And now she would finally take control of hers.
She exited the plane. Her heart beat with anticipation. She couldn’t wait to get home and call Justin. Maybe she’d just call him from inside of the terminal. The thought of hearing his voice made her smile. As she hurried across the runway and into the terminal, she saw Crystal running in her direction.
Something was wrong. Her pulse began to quicken as Crystal’s anxiety-strained face came closer into view.
“Vaughn,” Crystal said breathlessly, “I’m so glad you were on this flight. I got your message.”
“Crystal, you’re scaring me. What is it?”
“Let’s get out of here.” She looked quickly over her shoulder as she ushered Vaughn toward the baggage claim area.
“I don’t even know how to tell you this, but I didn’t want you to see it on T.V. or hear it on the radio.”
“Hear what? See what?” she demanded.
“There she is!” The shout rang out through the terminal. Almost instantly, Vaughn and Crystal were surrounded by a small group of men and women.
Vaughn threw Crystal a look just as a flashbulb went off in her face. “It’s Justin,” Crystal tried to say, but was drowned out by the reporters’ questions.
“Ms. Hamilton. Ms. Hamilton,” shouted a woman from the Herald. “What are your feelings about Justin Montgomery entering the congressional election?”
Whatever she thought the question was going to be, nothing could have prepared her for this.
“Ms. Hamilton, is it true that you and Mr. Montgomery had a relationship and he used that relationship to further his political objectives?”
Vaughn felt as if the floor were giving way beneath her feet. Crystal was grabbing her arm and trying to steer her past the growing crowd.
&
nbsp; There must be some sort of mistake, she kept thinking as she tried to form the words to answer the barrage of questions. But turning and seeing the look of regret on Crystal’s face told her it was no mistake. Yes, she could easily walk away with the standard “No comment,” but when she’d left her daughter’s grave site, less than four hours earlier, she vowed to take charge of her destiny. It would have to start somewhere.
Vaughn halted her forward stride so suddenly that Crystal nearly fell over her own feet. Vaughn turned and faced the pursuing crowd. She took a steadying breath and assumed her public face. She smiled. “I look forward to a run-off with Mr. Montgomery. I’m sure he has his reasons for coming into the race so late. I can’t imagine what those reasons are,” she said cynically. “My office will be scheduling a press conference to respond to the questions.” She started to walk off.
“Wait, Ms. Hamilton. What about the rumors of a relationship with Mr. Montgomery? What’s the story?”
Her stomach dipped as she turned to face her inquisitors.
“That is absurd. I know Mr. Montgomery professionally and that’s all. There’s never been anything between us,” she stated firmly. As she said the words, she knew that they were painfully true.
Chapter 23
Crystal was trying to tell her on the ride home about the news release earlier in the day, but Vaughn couldn’t hear her. Her sense of betrayal ran so deep it had carved out a canyon in her soul. She was totally devoid of feelings. Her brain was no longer able to process the information that Crystal kept pouring into it.
The cab pulled up in front of Vaughn’s townhouse. “Are you all right, Vaughn?” Crystal clasped her shoulder. “Do you want me to come up for a while?”
Vaughn looked at her, but didn’t really see her. “No thanks.” Her smile was in place. “You go on home. I’ll see you Monday.” Vaughn pushed the lock and started to open the door.