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.”
Nadine led us up the steps and opened the front door, stepping aside so I could enter. “So you know me well, I take it?”
“Girl, I’ve known you since you were in diapers. I know you the best,” she said with a smile that made me believe her. “Now come on, let’s get you something to eat and then I’ll let you get settled in your room.” I followed Nadine like a lost baby duck and I hated it. I hadn’t felt so helpless since I’d lived on the streets and I’d promised myself I never would again. But there I was, following a stranger around an unfamiliar house because I had no other options.
No, I’d been left with no other options, I reminded myself. Sure, I could have called a cab and hightailed it out of there, but there was only one other place I could go.
And it was empty.
Even if King weren’t on his way back to prison would he even still want me there after being fully prepared to give me away?
Would I even want to be there after all that?
I wasn’t prepared to think about that just yet.
Inside the house floors were all dark wood. The walls a light dove gray. It was tasteful but not overbearing. Comfortable yet modern.
I fucking hated it.
“Kind of simple for the house of a politician, no?” I questioned.
Nadine shut the door behind me while I stood in a small foyer, which doubled as a hallway, and took in my surroundings. “He’s a rising politician,” she explained. “He doesn’t come from old money like a lot of the good ole boys in this state. He was a computer programmer. He’s made it to where he is on his campaign promises, not his bank account,” Nadine informed me. “And that’s rare these days.”
“You sound like you like him” I asked in surprise.