Hidden Memories (3 page)

“I wasn’t in the building. I was…”

“I’ve been so worried about you,” Audra said, not hearing Sage. “I’ve been trying to reach you to make sure you’re okay.”

“I talked to Ava. She knows I was released from the hospital two days ago.”

“She told me, but I had to hear your voice for myself.”

“I’m fine, Mama,” Sage said. “As a matter of fact, I’ll be going back to work tomorrow.”

“You be careful. It sounds so dangerous down there. Doesn’t seem the South has changed much.”

Sage wasn’t in the mood for a new-South-still-the-old-South conversation. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s so good to hear your voice,” Audra said, her own voice wrapped in deep emotions.

Sage didn’t repeat her mother’s words; she didn’t share the sentiment. She struggled with long-buried feelings that now bubbled up and nearly choked her.

“I want to come see you,” Audra said, hesitantly, nervously. “It’s been so long. Too long since we’ve seen each other.”

“This is not a good time,” Sage said. Memories of the hollow, aching loneliness of her childhood flitted through her mind, memories that had begun when her father died. “I’ll be very busy with the election.”

“I’m coming to Atlanta for an assembly. I thought maybe we could have dinner.” The words rolled out hurriedly, as if Audra needed to get them said before her nerve deserted her.

Sage searched for a reason to refuse her. She didn’t want to dredge up old feelings. She’d worked too hard to keep them buried inside. She reached for her Day-Timer, flipping through the pages. “When are you going to be here?”

“Next Thursday through Sunday.”

“I don’t know,” Sage said doubtfully, scanning her busy calendar.

“Please, Butterfly. It’s been too long,” Audra insisted.

Satchel Kennedy instantly flashed in Sage’s mind and the warmest emotions filled her soul. She closed her eyes for a moment, picturing her father’s warm smile. He’d called her Butterfly, sometimes Sweet Butterfly.

“We could have dinner on Friday,” Sage said, her voice carefully nonchalant.

“Oh, that would be so wonderful,” Audra said merrily. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“I’ll see you next week, Mama,” Sage said before hanging up the phone. She stared blankly at the papers spread out on the kitchen table, then got up from the table and walked into her bedroom. She stood in the doorway, staring at her father’s painting hanging over her bed—a bright, colorful painting of butterflies flitting about a beautiful garden.

Chapter Two

“It looks like people coming together, united by forces they don’t understand,” Sage said, peering up at the huge painting hanging on the wall of La Touissant Art Gallery.

“No, it’s about an uprising. Maybe in a small country or island. See, their hoes and picks are their weapons; they’re about to fight against their oppressors,” Ramion said.

Sage narrowed her olive eyes at Ramion, amazed that his interpretation was so different from hers. “But the expressions on their faces are hopeful.” Pointing, Sage said, “Look at that woman, the lady with her eyes closed. She’s relieved that there’s going to be peace. She’s trying to connect with the force or something spiritual.”

Ramion smiled slightly, enjoying their debate, a welcome change from courtroom arguments and statements. “I think she’s scowling. She’s tired and defeated,” Ramion said, scrutinizing the texturized painting of islanders standing in a field with a majestic waterfall in the background. “Look at the picture on the other wall,” Ramion said, indicating a similar painting on the other side of the spacious gallery. “It’s by the same artist.” Turning back to Sage, he said smugly, “Its theme is revolution.”

“It’s not a revolution. See, they’re holding something in their hands.” Chuckling, Sage said, “They’re waving voter registration cards.”

Ramion laughed and unconsciously rubbed Sage’s arm with his hands.

Tawny Touissant, the owner of the art gallery, overheard Sage’s remark. “Girl, you can’t get your mind off the election, can you?”

“What can I say? The election is next week. I’m a bundle of nerves. I shouldn’t even be here,” Sage said. “It’s been wicked.”

“Relax, girlfriend. I’m just glad you weren’t badly hurt by that bomb! Still no word on who did it?”

“Nothing,” Sage said. “I try not to think about it too much.”

“Well, Cameron is going to win in spite of the bombing,” Tawny said with the earnest enthusiasm she showered on the artists she represented.

“Baker is holding a narrow lead,” Sage said.

“So? It can change tomorrow. You know, politics is a lot like art. Everyone has his or her own perception. Think of yourself as an artist who painted Cameron’s image. Election Day will be the debut of your artist’s work. The votes are the bids people make on the paintings. The person with the highest bid wins.”

“That’s an interesting analogy, Tawny,” Ramion said.

“I never quite thought about it like that,” Sage said, her voice husky with hope.

“What are you wearing?” Ramion asked Tawny. “You look like a…”

“Lamppost,” Tawny said, giggling about her black jumpsuit and funky high-top black-and-white hat. “I can’t paint a damn thing, Ramion, so my creative expression comes through in my funky fashion style. I heard you all talking about Medu’s painting. Believe me, it’s not that deep… Ah, here he is now,” Tawny said, waving her hand in a beckoning motion toward the man who’d just entered the room.

The artist approached with a friendly smile and a nod of greeting at Sage and Ramion.

“Medu, I’d like you to meet my friends, Sage Kennedy and Ramion Sandidge.”

Medu shook Ramion’s hand and turned to greet Sage. “Delighted,” he said, his melodious accent revealing his Haitian heritage. “So you like this one?”

“They were just discussing it. They think it’s about a revolution,” Tawny said with a conspiratory laugh.

Medu joined Tawny’s laughter, stroking his tightly curled beard that covered half his face. “It’s a celebration…a holiday that we take midday.”

“I certainly didn’t see that,” Ramion said, glancing at the painting with a new perspective.

“I don’t think many people do. I love listening to people’s interpretation of my work,” Medu said. “I like tapping people’s emotions.”

“That’s what I love about this business,” Tawny said. “I’m not an artist, but it’s fun to watch people’s reactions.” She hosted openings that went beyond the meet-the-artist-and-have-some-white-wine receptions. Located in the Virginia-Highland area in a turn-of-the-century house, her openings were real events bordering on theater or performance art.

“These two paintings always spark controversy. Either people see…” Medu’s sentence was cut off when a pair of lips grazed his. He responded to the succulent pleasure of Edwinna Williamson’s provocative kiss.

“Hello, baby,” Edwinna purred to Medu. Her cinnamon-brown face glowed with regal pride that bordered on arrogance. Not a trace of embarrassment showed in her deep-set black eyes and sly smile.

“Hey,” Medu said with an embarrassed smile. “Everyone, this is Edwinna Williamson.”

“We all know each other,” Edwinna said. “Hello, Tawny. Sage.” With a provocative grin, she said, “I know Ramion very well,” staring deeply into Ramion’s dark eyes.

“Ah,
that
Ramion. I didn’t make the connection. You two were once together. But we’ve changed partners. It’s a good thing we’re not friends, eh, Ramion?” Medu said, laughing lightly.

“Medu is most direct,” Tawny said with an uncomfortable giggle.

“We’re all adults,” Medu said, casually shrugging his shoulders.

“Daddy tells me you’re leaving us,” Edwinna said to Ramion.

Surprised that Edwinna had learned so quickly of his conversation with her father only hours before, Ramion stepped closer to Sage as if to protect her from Edwinna’s revelation. He saw the bewildered look pass through Sage’s eyes, then disappear as it was replaced by an expression of curious interest.

“News travels fast,” Ramion said, hoping that Sage wouldn’t be angry that he hadn’t told her about resigning from the law firm founded by Edwinna’s father. Under Edwin Williamson’s tutelage, Ramion had gone from junior attorney to senior partner in five years. His resignation would take him from the empowered embrace of Edwin to the unchartered waters of a career with a new law firm. The prospect still unnerved him.

“I’m surprised. You never expressed interest in working for a bigger firm,” Edwinna said, reprovingly.

“I just never shared that information with you,” Ramion responded.

“I guess congratulations are in order,” Tawny said, sensing the negative vibes in the air.

“Thanks, Tawny,” Ramion said.

Noticing the crowd converging at the receptionist’s desk, Tawny said, “Excuse me, folks. I’ve got some people to greet.” As she walked away, she added, “Help yourself to the food. Thanks for coming.”

Medu filled the awkward silence that followed Tawny’s departure. “Sage and Ramion were discussing this painting. Ramion thought it was about a political uprising, and Sage…”

Not interested in hearing Sage’s opinions, Edwinna interrupted, “Ramion would think that. He’s very focused. And politics are very much on his mind.”

“Given that the election is next week, I think it’s on a lot of people’s minds,” Sage said.

“And that explosion,” Medu said. “You’re very fortunate you weren’t seriously hurt.”

Edwinna ignored that and turned the topic back to Ramion. “Speaking of politics, Ramion has big plans to run for the state senate. Or have you changed your mind about that too?” she asked, expressing remnants of anger for the way Ramion had ended their relationship. She’d always known that he didn’t love her, but she’d intended to change his feelings. Edwinna despised Sage for robbing her of the opportunity to stake a claim on Ramion’s heart.

“I wish you well,” Medu said before Ramion could answer. “In my country, politics is
savoir faire
. My father was a government official. That’s why some of my paintings have a political undertone, but in a much broader sense. I try to show how politics affect the common man.”

“In some countries, that can be risky,” Sage said.

“Indeed,” Medu said. “That’s why I say America is the greatest country on earth.”

“I believe that’s Don King’s line,” Ramion said.

“Well, then, I agree with him,” Medu said. “But I must say, voting under the presence of the National Guard is reminiscent of something that would happen in my country.”

“You’re right. It’s amazing what people will do to try and stop change,” Ramion said.

“I still say America is a wonderful country,” Medu said. “Look at what’s being done to protect your rights.”

“Come on, Medu. We’ve got reservations at the Abbey,” Edwinna said, fastening her full-length mink coat over her purple dress. With 3-inch purple pumps, the full-figured woman almost towered over Medu’s medium frame. “By the way, Ramion, I’ve been thinking about running for the state senate too.”

“Ben Hill’s seat?” Sage asked, assuming that Edwinna was referring to the senator’s retirement. Ramion’s political plans began with replacing the highly respected senator.

“Exactly,” Edwinna said, lifting her waxed eyebrows in a taunting expression.

A scowl turned Ramion’s dark eyes into narrow slits. “Since when have you become interested in politics?” Ramion snarled, knowing how little Edwinna cared about those less fortunate than herself. There weren’t many blacks who had enjoyed Edwinna’s privileged childhood—private schools, a fourteen-room mansion, first-class plane rides, unlimited shopping sprees and a live-in maid.

“Hmm, I suppose I just never shared that with you” was Edwinna’s parting repartee. She tucked her hand in Medu’s bowed arm.

“Good night,” Medu said.

When Edwinna and Medu were gone, Ramion said, “I can’t believe she intends to run against me. She knows that seat is critical to my plans.” The state senate was his launching point, the US Senate his ultimate goal.

“And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that you gave Edwin your resignation,” Sage said.

“I was going to tell you tonight. I was planning to surprise you.”

“But, you wouldn’t have resigned unless you had another job.”

“Of course not.”

“You didn’t tell me that either. I know you interviewed last month.” She anchored both fists on her hips. “But you hadn’t mentioned any more about it.”

“You didn’t ask,” Ramion said in a clipped tone, more worried about how leaving Edwin’s law firm would affect his political career than Sage’s pique.

“I shouldn’t have to.”

“We’ve barely seen each other in the past two weeks,” Ramion said impatiently. “You’ve been busy with the campaign, and I’ve been tied up with the Hughes trial.”

“That’s not the point. I shouldn’t have to find out something that important from Edwinna.”

“Look, Sage, they offered me the position two weeks ago, but there was no point in telling you until I had accepted the position.”

“So now you have doubts about me,” Sage said with a worried expression. Ramion’s unwillingness to confide in her bothered Sage, but there was more at stake than his political career. Their relationship, once cloaked in darkness, was set free when he ended his relationship with his mentor’s daughter. He was making these changes for Sage and for himself—to love Sage openly and to launch his political career without a debt card to Edwin. “About us.”