Hidden Memories (32 page)

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Authors: Robin Allen

Tags: #love, #romance, #campaign manager, #political mystery, #race, #PR, #political thriller, #art, #campaign, #election, #Retro, #voting, #politicians, #relationships, #suspense, #governor, #thriller, #scandal, #friendship, #multicultural, #painting, #secrets, #Politics, #lawyer, #love triangle

BOOK: Hidden Memories
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“A nursery is fine,” Ramion said, returning to the master bedroom. “We can make babies in here.”

“Babies?” Sage asked, her hands on her hips. “As in more than one?”

He gave Sage a thoughtful stare. “That’s something we haven’t talked about. Children.”

Sage shook her head. “I’m not ready.”

“Wait a minute,” Ramion said, placing an arm around her shoulders. “Maybe I should be asking, do you want kids?”

“Yes, I want kids,” she said in a tone that suggested the question was absurd. “I just don’t want them now. I have other things I want to do first.”

Ramion gave his fiancée a curious stare. “Like what?”

“Maybe start a consulting business.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Oh, being Mrs. Ramion Sandidge isn’t enough for you?”

“You know me better than that.”

“I thought you would quit your job and stay home.”

“And make cookies and have your dinner waiting when you come home,” she said, an impudent look on her face.

Ramion touched the tip of her nose. “I’m joking, Sage. I used to want someone like that. Someone like my mother.”

“I’m not putting your mother down, but that wouldn’t work for me.”

“I know, baby. It’s a different generation. A different world, for that matter.”

“I’ll be ready to have a baby in a couple of years,” Sage said, unable to imagine herself as a mother.

“I’m in no hurry either,” Ramion admitted. He engulfed Sage in his arms and leisurely pressed his lips against hers. “This would be a great room to make a baby. Don’t you feel it?” He tightened his embrace and kissed her again, letting his lips linger.

She smiled at him, wondering what kind of mother she would be.

“Let’s try it out.” With an arm around her waist, he pulled the zipper on her jumpsuit down to her waist. He circled his fingers around her breast, stroking the tips of her nipples.

“What if someone comes in?”

He kicked the door shut with his foot.

“If someone comes in the house, we’ll hear them. We’ll stop.”

“You don’t like to stop.”

“Neither do you,” Ramion said, easing Sage to the floor as his mouth covered her breast.

* * * * *

“Ramion, I’ve got some ideas for your campaign,” Sage said, pulling a notebook from her briefcase. “Everybody always uses the promise of creating jobs or fighting crime to draw voter interest, but I think you should push the environment. Black folks may not seem to care about the environment, but if they knew that most landfills are in black neighborhoods, they might feel differently.”

“That’s interesting,” Ramion said distractedly, not really paying attention to Sage or the basketball game playing loudly on the television in Sage’s living room.

“Another thing. Your platform should center around your commitment to the community. Instead of making campaign promises, which everyone is tired of hearing, make campaign commitments. We have to come up with five major commitments that voters…” Sage said, stopping in midsentence. “Ramion, you’re not listening.”

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.

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