Hidden Memories (14 page)

“I haven’t joined a church in Atlanta.”

“You haven’t? I know you’ve been in Atlanta for a while.”

“You do?” Sage said. Her face registered surprise.

Reverend DuBois gently touched her shoulder. “Yes, I know all about you. You know how Atlanta is. People sometimes know you before you know them. Now, do you believe in God? I wouldn’t want to marry someone who doesn’t believe in the Lord.”

“Yes, I do,” Sage said. “I just haven’t found a church that makes me feel at home.”

“Maybe you’ll find our church is what you’re looking for. We’d certainly love to have you as a member.”

“I was definitely moved by your sermon,” Sage said.

“Reverend DuBois, I’d like to know if you could marry us,” Ramion asked.

“I’d be honored to. I’d love to marry a fine young couple like yourselves.” Chuckling lightly, he said. “Especially in the Governor’s Mansion. I surely would. I’ll be sure to mark my calendar.”

“I appreciate it,” Ramion said.

“Sage, that campaign was outstanding work. Outstanding,” Reverend DuBois said. “We definitely wanted to see a change in color.”

Sage knew she must be blushing. “Thank you, Reverend DuBois.”

As they walked to the car, Ramion asked, “So what did you think of the service?”

“It was very inspiring. I haven’t been to church in a while. Baptist churches are so different from the Jehovah’s Witnesses services I attended as a child. But I really liked it. I definitely want to go back.”

* * * * *

Edwinna spotted Ramion getting on the elevator inside the Fulton County Courthouse. She stepped inside the elevator as the doors were closing. Ramion nodded in greeting and stared at the floor buttons. He got off at the fifth floor and was headed toward a courtroom when he heard Edwinna call him.

He stopped and turned around as she caught up to him.

“Is it true?” Edwinna asked.

“Is what true?”

“Your engagement to that witch!”

“Don’t call her that,” Ramion said forcefully.

“You did that to humiliate me,” Edwinna accused.

“You had nothing to do with it. I want to marry Sage.”

“You could have waited. We just broke up a few months ago.”

“You know it’s been longer than that.”

“It doesn’t matter. Everyone is going to think that you left me for her. And they’re probably wondering why you didn’t marry me.” She reared back, her head bobbing back and forth dramatically with her words. “It would have made more sense, Ramion. You worked for my father. After all, he did so much for your career. You wouldn’t be where you are if it weren’t for Daddy. You’re so ungrateful for all he did for you.”

“First, you shouldn’t care what people think. Second, our relationship had nothing to do with your father. Besides, we didn’t have that kind of relationship.”

“That’s because you didn’t want to be serious. I did, and you know it.”

“I wasn’t ready.”

“And now you are. Just seven months later.” She waved her hands in a dismissing fashion.

“Look, Edwinna, we had a thing going. It didn’t work out. End of story.”

“I’m not some nobody you can simply dismiss. Sage is a nobody. She doesn’t have the connections I have.”

“You’re free to think whatever you like,” Ramion said impatiently.

“I’m not going to let you humiliate me like that, Ramion. You’re not going to get away with it!”

“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Ramion said, throwing his hands up in the air, wondering what he’d ever seen in her. Selfish and spoiled, she’d never inspired anything resembling love.

“When I win that seat in the state senate, you’ll see what it feels like to have something taken away from you that you want.”

“Edwinna, I can’t stop you from running, but I can sure stop you from winning.”

“You can try, Ramion. You can try. But you know I’ve got money behind me.”

“It takes more than money to win an election,” Ramion said. “I know things about you that you wouldn’t want to become public knowledge.”

Edwinna glared at him suspiciously. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you threatening to run a dirty campaign? Because don’t forget I can dish up some dirt too.”

“That’s not my style, but I’m not going to lose the election just because you want to be vindictive.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve always wanted to get into politics.”

“Since when? You only recently thought about it. We’ll see what the public believes,” Ramion said, as his beeper sounded. He checked the number and said, “I have to go.”

Edwinna angrily narrowed her eyes at Ramion. As she watched him walk down the hall and open the door to a judge’s office, she thought about how much she wanted him. She was furious that he didn’t want to marry her. Only she didn’t know who she was most angry with: Ramion for letting her go, or herself for not being able to let him go.

Chapter Seven

Sage drove through the ornate iron-gate entrance of Georgia’s Governor’s Mansion, up the sloping hill, past the vast expanse of finely manicured lawn and hand-tended gardens. She normally drove around to the side entrance, to the administrative offices but, accompanied by Ava, parked in front of the Governor’s Mansion instead.

A fountain and pool, centered in the octagon turnaround featuring Georgia marble carved in Greek-key design, graced the front of the twenty-four-thousand-square-foot mansion located on eighteen acres of land. Located on West Paces Ferry, in one of Atlanta’s most expensive real estate areas, the Governor’s Mansion was nestled between elegant million-dollar estate homes.

Sprinkles of fountain water sprayed Sage and Ava as they got out the car. They buttoned their coats to ward off the wintry air.

The sisters went inside the stately red-bricked, three-story mansion surrounded by white columns bracing the elongated white roof. Their feet touched the bronze seal of the State of Georgia inlaid in the marble floor that dominated the foyer in the Governor’s Mansion.

Seeing the Governor’s Mansion for the first time, Ava said, “Wow!”

Turning left, they entered the State Dining Room encompassing a mahogany accordion-style extension table that seated eighteen.

“This is where the formal dinners will be held,” Sage said.

“What kind of formal dinners?”

“Dinners for bill signings or to welcome politicians or foreign dignitaries.”

“I guess I better check up on my table manners,” Ava said, running her hands along the chairs, reproductions of originals found in the Telfair Academy in Savannah, Georgia.

“Like you’re going to be invited,” Sage teased.

“Fine with me. Sounds stuffy and boring,” Ava said. “Oh, look at the silver. It’s beautiful.”

“This silver is old. It’s from a World War I battleship.”

“It sure is shiny,” Ava noticed. “They must have someone polishing and buffing it every day. I used to hate it when Mama brought out the silver. I had to stay in the house all day to get it to a shine.”

“A live-in staff is employed to clean, cook and maintain the gardens. Let’s go into the drawing room,” Sage said, stepping onto the Turkish carpet.

Mahogany Pembroke tables, square-back Grecian scroll-arm sofas and matching card tables graced the State Drawing Room. Classic Greek-key design motif was reflected in the molded plasterwork of cornices and the ceiling.

In the cherry-paneled Library, Sage noticed books by Georgia authors such as Joel Chandler Harris, Erskine Caldwell and Flannery O’Connor. The shelves were filled with books about county histories and other works about Georgia.

“Who’s this strange-looking man?” Ava asked, pointing to the engraved portrait of General James Oglethorpe on the Pembroke table near the antique scroll-arm sofa.

“He’s the founder of Georgia.”

“How do you know that?” Ava asked flippantly.

“I just finished working on the new brochure we’re putting together about the Mansion.”

“Oh, I thought you knew everything.”

“I do,” Sage said jokingly.

They moved into the Circular Hall, aptly named for the cascading stairs winding down from the second floor in a circular fashion. A daffodil-yellow chaise lounge blended tastefully with the yellow walls.

“Umh, umh, umh. Those stairs are bad,” Ava said.

“I know. I was thinking about having the wedding in here.”

“Yeah, you could walk down those steps, and take your vows over there,” Ava said, pointing to the white-framed entranceway with two white pillars. “Or right here,” Ava said, moving under the nineteenth-century gilt-wood chandelier on the other side of the circular stairs. “Either way, it would be live. I can’t wait.”

“You would think you’re the one getting married,” Sage said, her fingers gingerly touching the Benjamin Franklin vase—a rare French porcelain, the rarest piece in the Mansion.

“Sage, you should have heard Mama’s voice when I told her you were getting married in the Governor’s Mansion. She is so proud of you.”

“I haven’t made up my mind about having the wedding ceremony inside the Mansion or outside in the gardens.”

“Either way, I know it’s going to be beautiful,” Ava said.

“So did you notice anything missing here?”

“Like what?”

“The paintings, the artwork, the décor. Isn’t something missing?” Sage asked.

“It’s all very ritzy and elegant. Everything is so formal, how do you relax around here? If you just want to kick back and chill, those old, ugly guys in the pictures will be staring at you.”

“No, silly. The family’s quarters are upstairs, and they’ve been redesigned to accommodate Cameron and his family.”

“So what’s missing?”

“Black art, black paintings, black sculptures. We need black artwork in here,” Sage said.

“Oh, yeah!” Ava looked around at the estate paintings and the fine antiques. “Put some people on the walls that I can relate to.” Ava started giggling. “But I have a funny feeling that might stir folks up. Like those rich old ladies with nothing to do but kick up a fuss.”

“We just won’t tell anybody,” Sage said.

* * * * *

The power brokers convened around the mahogany table in Cameron Hudson’s private conference room. It was after five o’clock, and Georgia’s new governor and his advisors were discussing their legislative agenda. The meeting had begun three hours earlier and had survived interruptions for phone calls and faxes. For some, coffee and Coca-Cola would be replaced with scotch and whiskey.

For the first time since the Governor’s Mansion was opened in 1968, the power players sitting around the conference table did not fit the Southern political profile—white, male and wealthy. This was a diverse group of men and women from different racial persuasions and economic backgrounds. There were Cameron Hudson, Sage Kennedy, Edwin Williamson, Lieutenant Governor Bradford Welch, Bill Shapely and Alfreda Williams.

They had already discussed gubernatorial appointments to various state organizations and committees—board members for the Georgia Lottery Corporation, members for the State Board of Regents, open positions on the Governor’s Commission on Effectiveness Economy, one position on the Public Service Commission, positions on the Health Strategies Council and the Judicial Nominating Commission, and an opening on the National Resources Board. They’d suggested people for these positions, examining candidates’ experience and backgrounds and, most importantly, scrutinizing candidates’ political alliances.

“Now, let’s talk about the flag,” Cameron said, making notes on the files in front of him.

“It’s a can of worms,” Bill Shapely said, a master behind-the-scenes strategist. “It’s going to be difficult to get it passed.”

“Difficult, but not impossible,” Edwin Williamson said, chairman of the local Democratic Party. “Have you seen the editorial in the newspaper?” Edwin handed Bill the
Atlanta Times
, folded to the Editorials section of the newspaper. “It will help us.”

Bill took the newspaper and quickly scanned the editorial.

Will Governor Hudson Succeed in Changing the State Flag?

The new governor proposes removing the Confederate emblem from the official banner of Georgia’s state flag, carrying his predecessor’s torch. I share his view that the red, star-studded Confederate cross is a symbol of bigotry and racism… But, whether the legislature approves a new flag will represent the progress Georgia has made in race relations. (Drew Evans, Staff Writer, Editorials,
Atlanta Times
, January 29, 1998)

Bill Shapely shook his head. “Let’s hope this editorial will influence the masses.”

“It definitely will help our cause. Since it’s not an election year, I think legislators will be more receptive to the idea,” Sage said. “Polls show that businesses are favorable to changing the flag.”

“I think the problem the last time around wasn’t just that the governor wanted to change the flag, it was that he wanted to change the flag to another Confederate emblem. Too much negativity is associated with
any
Confederate symbol,” Cameron said.