The senator sighed. “We did look for you, Ramie. But we didn’t know about this memory business. We just thought when we hadn’t found you that you didn’t want to be found. And stop making this all about you. It isn’t just you who this debacle affected, so think about that before you go around hurling your accusations at people.”
“King didn’t abduct me. I want you to drop the charges. I don’t want him back in prison,” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.
The senator narrowed his “I tell you what, visit with the specialist I’ve contacted. Make a real effort to assimilate back into your old life. Try to remember some things before you go and throw everything away to be the first lady of…Logan’s Beach.” He said Logan’s Beach like the entire place left a bad taste in his mouth. I opened my mouth to argue but he continued.
“Give it a month. A month of real effort toward your recovery. If after that time you still want to go back, I’ll drop the charges against him and have my driver drop you back off at his house with a letter of recommendation to the family court judge, which he can use for custody of his daughter. That’s the deal.” He straightened his tie. “And the only one I’m offering.”
“I don’t exactly trust your deals. Look what you did to King,” I spat.
“Ramie, he’s a felon! He’s got no voting rights for Christ’s sake. He’s a non-citizen as far as I’m concerned, and I don’t make deals with criminals. You’re my daughter.” He finally looked up from his phone. “I would never make you a promise I didn’t intend to keep.”
I didn’t trust him. Not one bit. He was a fucking politician after all. But what other choice did I have? He was right; there really was nothing to go back to. Then there was the nagging curiosity, which had never died down, reminding me that I really did want to find out who I really was. What my life was like before. “Okay,” I agreed. “But I have more questions. About me, about my—” The senator’s phone rang and once again he barked his greeting into the receiver, effectively putting an end to our conversation.
I’m not sure exactly what kind of relationship I’d had with my father, but I was beginning to feel that he wasn’t the cheering on the T-ball team, helping with my math homework type.
Within a few minutes after we’d dropped off Tanner and Sammy, the senator announced, “Here we are.” He placed his phone inside his jacket. Royal palm trees, which were at least twenty feet tall, lined both sides of the driveway. We came to a stop in the center of the U-shaped drive, right in front or a big southern style open porch with white railings.
I craned my neck up at the house. “You live here?”
“No, we live here,” the senator corrected. “You, your mother, myself, Sammy, and the housekeeper, Nadine. And when we I’m not here, I’m up in Tallahassee or D.C.”
The senator leaned over me and opened the door. He motioned for me to get out of the car. I had to shield my eyes from the rays of the sun burning through the separated palm fronds.
The house wasn’t as big or palatial as I would imagine a politician’s home would be. It was on the small side, with immaculate white siding, accented with blue shutters. The rocking chair on the porch screamed old southern charm. An American Flag waved beside the front door. Wind chimes hung from the trees, tinging and tanging hypnotically with every hint of breeze. “Home sweet home,” the senator said dryly.
No. It might have been somewhere I’d lived, but it felt like anything but home.
It didn’t even have stilts.
“Nadine will show you to your room,” the senator said, nodding to the middle-aged woman with olive skin and dark brown hair pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck, as she emerged from the house. She wore black slacks and a white short-sleeved Polo shirt. “Nadine here has been filled in on your situation. She can answer any questions you might have.” The senator looked satisfied with his introductions as if he’d just introduced a new man on the job to his boss. “Do you remember Nadine at all, Ramie?”
“No, I don’t remember anyone,” I clipped.
The senator rolled his eyes. “I see your attitude hasn’t suffered along with your memory. Nadine is…well, Nadine does it all. She’s been with us since you were born. We will talk more soon.” With a curt nod the senator popped back in the car. He rolled down the window. “Despite what you may be thinking, it is good to have you home, Ramie.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked. “Just like that?”
“I should be back in a few days. I have meetings. Your mother isn’t around. She’s at the spa…again. We’ll talk soon.” The car drove off.
“Mr. Fucking Personality,” I mumbled. Nadine laughed out loud then clasped her hand over her mouth. She cleared her throat. “Well, he’s right about one thing,” she said, with a slight southern accent, “that attitude of yours hasn’t gone anywhere.”