Hidden Memories (18 page)

“I told you to do something about that damned flag bill,” Randolph snarled, his greenish-blue veins straining against the thin skin in his neck.

“I’m working on it.”

“I just got off the phone with Russell Harper. He says the bill is going to be approved by the House.”

“The Senate isn’t going to pass it,” Winchester said confidently.

“What makes you so sure?”

“With the swing vote, the bill can’t be passed. I know for a fact that one of the senators whose vote is needed will hand in a nay. I happen to have some compromising pictures of the senator.”

“Doing what?” the old man asked.

“Having sex with another man.”

“Which senator?”

“Bridges.”

“I can’t believe it,” the old man said.

“He hasn’t made a public statement about his views. So he can go either way.”

“You’re positive?”

“Don’t they say a picture is worth a thousand words? And, of course, I’ve kept the negatives,” Winchester said with a sly grin.

“So we can count on him in the future?”

“I’m working on another senator.”

“Who?”

“I don’t want to say just yet. Give me a week.”

“No more than a week,” the old man warned.

“I don’t anticipate any problems,” Winchester said, noticing the scattered mail that had fallen on the floor. He bent over to pick it up. Sage’s smiling face looked up at him from the cover of
Atlanta
magazine. “There she is. One of ‘Atlanta’s Women Power Players’. Not for long,” he promised, ripping off the cover page.

* * * * *

“Good news,” Sage said, entering Cameron Hudson’s office. “I just got off the phone with Bill Archer. He says the bill to cut the food tax will get passed by the House, but they want it to be specific to staples, meats, bread, vegetables, dairy and produce. Right now they’re negotiating what food items will get taxed.”

“I know the grocery chains are complaining that it will cause administrative problems,” Cameron said. “But it can be overcome. What about the flag?”

“Bill says they’ll probably hold it until last because of all the controversy. Sounds like they’re open to the idea of a new design, though.”

“Excellent,” he said, nodding with a slight smile.

“Have you looked at the brochure?”

“Yes, I like it. Very colorful and friendly.”

“The National Governor’s Association wants you to be the keynote speaker at their convention,” Sage said.

“When is it again?”

“In June.”

“What’s the topic?”

“Maximizing government funding.”

“Just what I want to talk about,” Cameron said sarcastically.

“I can get Benjamin Smith to write your speech. He does a lot of political speeches. He’s very much in demand.”

“Do that.”

“I want to change some of the artwork in the Mansion,” Sage said, easing into a chair in front of Cameron’s desk. “We need to add works by black artists and sculptors and include books by black writers in the Library.”

Cameron leveled his eyes at Sage, his round face an expression of bemusement. “Sage, are you
trying
to create more controversy? Our neighbors alone would be in an uproar, let alone those arts preservation committees.”

“I know, but it’s time the Governor’s Mansion represented the people who live in this state, the people you have been elected to represent. After all, the Mansion isn’t a private home. It’s on display, sort of like a museum. And museums change their art all the time.”

“Good argument. So how do you suggest we go about it?”

“I think we should select artwork that goes with the décor and find a suitable location for the art that we’re replacing. If we find other high-profile, prestigious venues for the pieces we remove, people won’t have room for much complaint.”

“Oh, they’ll still complain. As a matter of fact, they’ll scream to the high heavens, especially the preservationists.”

“We can soften their cries of protests, especially if we find a suitable place for the outgoing pieces.”

Cameron snapped his finger. “You know, Sarah would love to be involved in something like this. But let’s be low-key about it for now; let’s get this flag bill approved first.”

* * * * *

“You’re back,” Sage said, when she opened the door and found Ava lounging on the sofa in the living room. The television was on, the volume low, and Ava was lying on her back, arms flung across her face.

Ava rose up. “Hi,” she said in a limp voice.

Sage greeted her little sister with an affectionate kiss and hug. Dark circles ringed Ava’s eyes. “Honey, how are you?”

“Terrible.”

“I can see that,” Sage said and sat down next to her. “Talk to me.” She grabbed her sister’s hands and gently stroked them. She remembered the day her mother brought the twins home from the hospital. They had the smallest faces and tiniest hands; together they only weighed seven pounds at birth. She’d felt so protective of them even then. Little had changed in that way, even after all these years, and it hurt her to see her baby sister in so much pain.

“He’s going to die, Sage.” Ava sobbed for the first time since she’d seen her father. Sage held and rocked her, gently rubbing Ava’s face and hair. “Oh God, it’s terrible. You know how strong and big he’s always been. A few months ago he weighed two hundred twenty-five pounds. Two days ago he was down to a hundred forty pounds.

“He’s so small. Doesn’t even look like himself,” she said, her voice cracking with hurt. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she said, “I can’t watch him die. I know it’s selfish, but I can’t do it, Sage. I just can’t!” She looked at her sister. “Does that make me an awful person?”

Sage touched Ava’s face and wiped away her tears. “No, you’re not awful, honey. You have to know your limits. And I truly understand how you feel.”

“I’m so glad, Sage. Mommy is furious. She wouldn’t even go to the airport with me.”

“Is Aaron still there?”

“Yeah, he’s going to drop out for the semester.”

“Aaron is strong,” Sage said. “He can handle it, and he’ll be able to help her a lot.”

“I felt so guilty leaving them.”

“Ava, you do what’s best for you. It’s all a shock. You need to prepare yourself. Maybe you can go back later, when you can handle it.”

“Okay.” Ava sniffled and wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I want to get back to work tomorrow. Get my mind off things.”

“You’ve got plenty of work waiting for you.”

“Have you made any other plans for the wedding?”

“I hired a wedding consultant,” Sage said, a tinge of excitement sounding in her voice.

“What about a gown?”

“I was saving that for me and you. We have to go shopping for my gown and the bridesmaid gown.”

“No high-collared, fuddy-duddy stuff. The gowns have to be live.”

Sage chuckled, pleased to see her sister smiling through her tears. “All the way live.”

* * * * *

The Omni was filled to capacity with basketball fans. The Atlanta Hawks were playing against the Orlando Magic, and the air was filled with excitement and tension.

Sage, Ramion, Ava and Drew sat in the press box with a full view of the court. It was an intense game, with the point spread between the teams just two points—a single basket. At the end of the second quarter, the game was tied. The screaming, high-strung Atlanta fans were almost as tired as the players, from all the boisterous rooting: “Go Atlanta! Go Atlanta! Go Atlanta!”

“This game is wearing me out,” Ramion said.

“Yeah, man,” Drew agreed. “This game could give a guy a heart attack.”

Ramion stood up. “I’m going to get something to eat. Anybody want anything?”

“Bring me back a hot dog,” Sage said. “I’m starving.”

“I’m straight, man. I’m trying to lay low on the beers.” Drew patted his stomach. “I’ve got to get rid of this gut.”

Ava stood up. “Let me go with you, Ramion. I want to walk around.”

“You just want to get out there and parade around,” Drew teased.

“Just like everybody else. It’s time to see and be seen.” Ava sashayed past Drew and followed Ramion up the stairs.

“Looks tight,” Drew said, as he moved over two seats to sit next to Sage.

“It’s hard to predict who’s going to win.”

“So how are the wedding plans going?”

“Great!” Sage released a long, contented sigh. “I’m so happy, Drew. My life is finally coming together.”

“You deserve happiness, baby. Especially after Broderick’s accident.” Drew paused to stare after a tall, voluptuous tawny-brown woman walking down the row in front of them. She turned his way, giving him a seductive smile. Drew returned the flirty look with an equally suggestive smile. He cleared this throat and turned his attention back to Sage. “You know, you’ve ruined my chances of getting married.”

“What are you talking about?” Sage asked absently as she fished through her purse and pulled out her checkbook.

“You know what I’m saying, Sage. Me and you. You and me.”

“What me and you?” Sage asked. “You’ve always been my closest friend, my brother.”

“Brother. Uh-huh, I’ve wanted to be more than your brother. You just never noticed.”

Sage stared down at her checkbook for a few seconds, before slowly looking up at Drew. She asked quietly, “What are you saying, Drew? No jokes. No BS.”

“I’ve always had a thing for you, Sage, and you’ve always known it. You just don’t want to admit it. When we first met in school, I knew it then, but you weren’t ready. You were trying to adjust to school and going through all the changes with your family. I didn’t want to do anything to hurt you. I knew with you I would have to come correct, and back then I was wild and out of control.”

“Still are,” she said.

“Yeah, maybe so. I never had any intention of getting serious with anyone while I was still in college. Then we graduated, you went to Atlanta and I went to DC.”

Sage smiled at a memory suddenly recaptured. “You know, I’ll never forget something you said when we graduated. You said, ‘It was time for school. Now it’s time for a career. And then it’ll be time for you.’ I thought you were tripping.”

“I meant it. But our timing has always been off.
By the time I moved to Atlanta, you were engaged.” His voice slipped a bit to a sadder note. “Then Broderick was killed.”

“Drew, that was three years ago, and so much has happened since you called me that night. I remember exactly what I was doing when I found out. I was sitting on the sofa reading
The Firm
. I had just read the scene when he tells his wife that his firm is connected to the mob. I read it over and over again, hoping that I could somehow escape into the book and not have to face the reality that Broderick was dead. Then you were knocking at the door…”

“And you opened it, looking like a crazy woman.”

“I was crazy,” she said, reflecting on that turning point in her life. She hadn’t thought about Broderick in a long time. He had been instantly killed when a car hit him head on. Even though it had been only three years, it felt like a lifetime ago. She had never been able to understand why he was taken away from her. In recent months, she’d wondered if fate had intervened because she had been destined to meet Ramion.

“If it wasn’t for you, Drew, I don’t know how I would have gotten through the funeral. You’ve always been such a friend, more than a friend.”

“Don’t say it, Sage. Don’t say brother.”

“Drew, you know you’re my brother, my best friend, my family.”

“Everything but your lover.”

“When we were in college I thought you’d do something, make a pass, anything, but you never did. Not once.”

“I always respected your feelings, your need for someone to lean on. I felt our friendship was more important than being lovers.”

They were silent, thinking about what might have been if they’d shared their feelings years before.

Instead of letting the conversation drift into the regret zone, Sage tossed a dash of humor into the moment. “You couldn’t have handled me as a lover, Drew. I’m telling you, I would have blown your mind.”

“You’re probably right,” he said, not even trying to joke.

“What about other women, Drew? I know you want children.”

“One day. Right now, my career is my woman.”

“Well, I know you’ve had your share of women, but it’s dangerous out there. You don’t want to catch something that won’t let you go.”

“I know, Sage. I read the reports. That’s why I don’t do anything without a hat. Believe me, I practice safe sex.”

“I hope you find somebody special to love.”

“I will, when I’m ready.”

“Don’t wait till you’re ninety-nine,” Sage teased, tapping him affectionately on the leg.

* * * * *