The Broken Road (The Broken Series)

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The Broken Road (The Broken Series) Page 5

by Ruff, K. S.


  My eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?”

  Charlie shook his head. “No catch. You go to DC. Advocate for seniors living in rural areas. Gain some experience with the legislative process, and keep your eyes open for opportunities that will improve federal funding streams for us. When the fellowship ends, your job will be waiting for you.”

  My jaw fell slack. “Wow, Charlie. I can’t believe you would do that for me. I don’t know what to say, but… thank you. If I am awarded the fellowship, I would definitely want to return to Montana and work for this office again.” I loved being the state’s designated elder rights advocate and had been hoping to return to the position once I completed law school.

  “Good. Then it’s settled.” Charlie pushed the chair back against the wall as he turned to leave. He paused in the doorway, but he didn’t turn back around. “Kri, you’ll get this fellowship, and you will go. We’ll hold your job for you, but you won’t be coming back. I just want you to know… that’s okay. It’s okay if you don’t come back.”

  My breath caught sharply. Tears pricked my eyes as I stared at Charlie’s back. “Charlie, don’t say that. I’ll come back…”

  Charlie turned back around. His blue eyes met mine. “No, Kri. You’re going to meet someone in DC. You’re going to fall in love, and you’re going to start living your life.” He didn’t bother waiting for a response. He just turned and walked away.

  I sat there, momentarily stunned, before leaping from my chair. “Ha! I’m not even going to date while I’m there!” I scowled as I sank back into my chair. Charlie seemed entirely too confident in his prediction. I silently cursed his direct line to God.

  * * * * * *

  My blood boiled as I stared at the reports strewn across my desk. There were nine complaints of stolen property… all generated from the same assisted living facility in Butte. Three cases involved wedding rings stolen from residents’ fingers while they slept, two involved hearing aids, and four involved missing dentures. I shook my head. Stealing from frail elders was bad enough, but what kind of person would take their teeth?

  I thought about the four cases involving missing dentures. The residents were going to have a hard time getting Medicaid and Medicare to cover a new set of dentures, but they’d all be thrown on a pureed diet and lose weight if they didn’t have any teeth to eat with. Few elderly people could afford to lose weight, and sudden weight loss could lead to complications with medications. I reached for my phone, intent on reporting the nine thefts to the Medicaid Fraud investigator. My other line rang before I could finish dialing his number.

  I switched lines and issued my standard greeting, still deeply entrenched in the case files scattered across my desk. “Senior and Long Term Care, Kristine speaking.”

  “Hi Kristine. It’s Julianne from the John Heinz Foundation. I’m calling with some good news… You've been selected to be our next senate fellow. The decision was unanimous. Congratulations!”

  I looked up from the case files as Julianne’s words seeped into my scattered brain. I sank into my chair as tears pricked my eyes. I felt… completely terrified. I took a deep, steadying breath. “Thank you, Julianne. I feel truly honored, but I’m a little surprised you’ve chosen me. Would you mind terribly if I took twenty-four hours to think about this before accepting the position?” I cringed. I suspected most people would be jumping for joy.

  “Of course. Why don’t you give me a call back in a couple of days?” Julianne encouraged.

  “Thanks, Julianne,” I responded gratefully.

  I told no one. I simply packed my things and walked out of the office. I stopped briefly at my house to change clothes and grab a bottle of water. Then I drove to the base of Mount Helena. I sat and stared at the mountain before easing out of the jeep to stretch my legs. I knew it wasn’t wise to hike by myself, but I needed to be alone with my thoughts, and I needed a level of clarity that could only be gained at the top of a mountain. So I forced my concerns aside, chose the steepest trail, and began hiking.

  My lungs and legs were burning by the time I made it to the top. I sat on a smooth patch of ground as I guzzled my water. I gazed out over the valley, admiring how pretty Helena looked nestled into the base of the mountains. I closed my eyes and savored the warm scent of pine that gently enveloped me as I lay against the cold ground.

  I lowered the mental shields I had erected at the office and allowed the fellowship to permeate my thoughts. When I could no longer feel the sun on my face, I made my decision, committed myself to that decision, and slowly opened my eyes. I was surprised by how low the sun had fallen. It was entirely too late to be hiking the mountain alone. I jogged down the trail until the sun completely disappeared and it was no longer safe to run. As I eased to a cautious walk, I wondered whether the foreboding I felt was the result of being alone on a dark mountain trail or whether it was the decision I had made at the top.

  * * * * * *

  I called my parents first. They tried to be supportive, but my mom sounded sad, and my dad voiced a number of concerns. We had always lived within a few hours of each other, so this separation was going to prove difficult for all of us. I tried to reassure them and promised to drive down to see them as soon as I could.

  My cousin, Lexie, was next on my list. Lexie and I grew up next door to each other. We had practically been friends since birth. Although we currently lived an hour and a half apart, we were closer now than ever before. We slayed demons together… the kind that haunted dreams, as was the case with my ex-husband… and the kind that dragged us through hospitals, as was the case with her kidney failure. A kidney transplant turned things around six months ago.

  Lexie picked up on the first ring. “Hey, cuz! What’s up?”

  I swallowed nervously. “Hey, Lex. I’m calling to let you know I was offered the fellowship in DC. I’ve decided to accept.”

  The line was quiet as Lexie processed the news. Finally, she spoke. “Congratulations, honey. I’m really happy for you.” She didn’t sound happy. She sounded sad.

  I panicked and immediately began back pedaling. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Am I really doing this? Do you think I’m making the right decision? What should I do?”

  Lexie chuckled softly. “Krissy, we’ve been over this a number of times. It will be good for you to get away for a while. You won’t have to worry about running into Tom, Michael, or Justin when you’re in DC; and just think about how good this is going to look on your resume. Didn’t you tell me your boss offered to hold your job for you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you have nothing to lose by going. We’ll all still be here when you return home.”

  I sighed, once again resigned to the idea of moving. “Thankfully, it’s only a year. You will come visit me.” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

  “Of course. I’ll give you just enough time to learn your way around, then I’ll come out to visit. I promise.”

  And, with that reassurance, I called Julianne to accept the fellowship position.

  Julianne said she would send a formal letter offering me the position. Then she recited a long list of things for me to do. I would have to return to DC to secure an apartment and interview senators. I was surprised to learn that I would get to choose the senator I worked for. Julianne assured me that the senators would be jockeying for me, given my experience and the fact that it was the foundation, not the senators, paying my salary.

  My free time was quickly consumed with research on U.S. senators and apartments in Virginia. It wasn’t long before I had a binder full of notes. Countless lists littered my office, my jeep, and the front of my refrigerator.

  * * * * * *

  I returned to DC a few weeks later. My flights were uneventful, boring even. I didn’t sit by any women who felt compelled to share their life stories and no one bled on me. For these reasons alone, I considered both flights a success.

  As with my previous trip, I managed to make a spectacle of myself wh
ile exiting the airport. I caused a human traffic jam in the exit doors of the main terminal. I didn’t mean to, but the cool, air conditioned airport had left me completely unprepared for the crushing heat that met me at the door.

  The air was so oppressive that it was nearly impossible to breathe. I froze, just outside the doorway, and glanced down at my feet. I was certain I had just stepped into a warm puddle of water, but my sandals were perfectly dry. That’s when I realized it wasn’t just my feet. My entire body was drenched by the humidity. I had never felt anything like it.

  Habib’s voice broke through the confusion. “Kristine, I’m over here!”

  I slowly wheeled my luggage toward his cab. I was still marveling at how wet my feet felt.

  Habib smiled. With a polite bow, he opened the front passenger door for me.

  A welcome blast of cold air greeted me as I folded myself into his car. “Thanks, Habib. It’s good to see you again.”

  Habib loaded my luggage into the trunk before joining me in the front seat. “Where are you staying this time?”

  I pulled the hotel confirmation from my laptop bag. “The Holiday Inn in Alexandria. It’s located on King Street.”

  Habib nodded as he pulled away from the airport. “I know the hotel. I’m surprised you’re not staying in DC.”

  “This hotel is located near the apartments I’m considering. I wanted to get a feel for the neighborhood.” I stared at the waves of heat shimmering off the road. “It is crazy hot here!” Goose bumps pricked my arms from the air conditioning. Suddenly, I wasn’t hot. I was ridiculously cold. I pulled the pashmina from my laptop bag and wrapped it around my shoulders.

  Habib offered a sympathetic nod. “The heat is unbearable here in the summer. You will like fall much better.” He glanced over at me, noticed the pashmina, and chuckled. “Congratulations on your new job. Are you happy you’re moving to DC?”

  “Thanks, Habib. I feel more nervous than anything. DC is very different from Montana.”

  Habib smiled knowingly. “Different is not always a bad thing.”

  I nodded, then gazed out the window as I tried to get a feel for the state I would soon call home. I pulled a binder out of my bag and nervously reviewed the list of appointments I had scheduled. I looked up from the binder as I returned my attention to Habib. “What’s your availability over the next few days?”

  Habib shot me a quick smile. “My schedule is flexible.”

  I closed the binder and leaned my head against the seat with a soft sigh. “The next five days are going to be insanely busy. I’m interviewing five senators tomorrow, and I need to find an apartment, preferably in the Alexandria area. I'm worried I won’t find a place to live in such a short amount of time.”

  “I'm happy to drive you to your appointments. Everything will be fine, Kristine. You will like it here. You'll see.” Habib smiled reassuringly.

  We pulled up to the Holiday Inn a few minutes later. I dug through my purse for some cash. I handed Habib the cab fare and a rather large tip. “Thanks, Habib.”

  Habib shoved the money in his pocket. He handed me a blank receipt before opening the car door. “What time should I pick you up tomorrow?”

  I met Habib at the back of the car. “My senate interviews start at eight in the morning. What time do you recommend we leave here, given rush hour traffic?”

  Habib set my suitcase on the ground, then closed the trunk. “I will meet you here at six-thirty, just to be safe. I do not want to make you late for your interviews.”

  I balanced my laptop bag on top of my suitcase and started walking toward the hotel. “Thanks, Habib. I’ll see you then!”

  The first thing I did after I checked into my hotel room was jump in the shower. I couldn’t function with that sticky residue from the humidity suffocating my skin. I slipped into a comfy pair of yoga pants and a tank top before ordering a tomato, basil, and mozzarella sandwich on ciabatta bread from room service. I kicked my feet up on the desk and picked at my sandwich while mulling over the notes I had compiled on each of the senators. I felt a tinge of excitement when it dawned on me that I would soon be working for one of these five men. When I finally drifted off to sleep, I was still questioning which one.

  * * * * * *

  Habib was already waiting in the lobby when I took the elevator down. He was standing by a large window, wearing khaki pants, a white polo shirt, and brown loafers. This appeared to be his standard attire.

  Habib smiled and nodded when he saw me approach from the elevator. “Good morning, Kristine. You look nice.”

  I was wearing a navy dress suit with a pencil skirt, a white camisole, and modest two-inch navy heels. I smoothed my hands over my suit jacket nervously. “Thank you, Habib. I really appreciate you getting up so early to drive me into DC.”

  Habib smiled as he turned toward the door. “I’m looking forward to the drive in today.”

  I walked alongside Habib until the lobby doors slid open. My feet stalled as a wrecking ball of humidity bowled me over. I shook my head in wonder.

  We were surrounded by a thick white haze, which evoked memories of driving through the clouds in Glacier National Park. I smiled gratefully at Habib, who was politely holding the passenger door open for me.

  I watched with wide eyes as Habib nudged his way into traffic. He didn’t appear the least bit concerned by the cars that were driving mere inches from his or the snail’s pace at which they moved.

  He glanced at me as he eased onto the exit for I-395. “I am curious about the senators you are meeting with today. Do you know which senate buildings you need to go to?”

  I nodded. “I scheduled interviews with five senators: Senator Kennedy, Senator Rockefeller, Senator Baucus, Senator Burns, and Senator Reed; so I’ll be bouncing between all three senate buildings. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to drop me off in front of the Dirksen Building. My last interview is in the Hart building. I should be done sometime around five o’clock.”

  Habib smiled. “I will be waiting outside the Hart Building at five o’clock. Don’t worry if you run late. I will wait for you. You can call me if you need me to come sooner. Do you still have my business card?”

  I nodded, then smiled as Habib handed me another business card. I tucked the card into my purse and turned my attention to the interlocking cars that were crawling up the road. I shuddered at the sight. I would soon have to face this drive into DC on my own.

  My thoughts drifted to the senators I was about to interview. Each of them displayed some level of commitment to aging or health policy, although Rockefeller and Kennedy stood head and shoulders above the rest when it came to health care. This commitment was important to me, but so were their committee assignments. I wanted to work for a senator who was appointed to the Senate Finance Committee; the HELP Committee; or the Sub-committee on Aging. Two of the senators on my list were from Montana, and four of the five represented rural states, which increased the likelihood I would work on aging and health care legislation that would benefit Montanans.

  I opened my binder, sifted through my research on the senators, and scratched in a few more interview questions.

  Habib occasionally called my attention to the road as he offered advice about how best to approach what would soon become my regular commute.

  An hour later, we inched into the district, bumper to bumper with at least a hundred other cars. “We’re almost there,” Habib said encouragingly. “We made good time.”

  I closed my binder and eyed the sea of cars pressing in on us. I stared at Habib, mystified as to how he could appear so unaffected by such a terrifying sight.

  * * * * * *

  I hit the ground running with the first interview and was quickly sucked into a whirlwind of office tours, people, and promises about legislation I could work on. I scheduled all five of my interviews back to back on the same day so I could devote more time to finding an apartment. I hadn’t thought to budget myself any time for lunch, so I ended up eating a squished up pow
er bar that I discovered in the bottom of my purse when I was walking between the Dirksen and Russell buildings. I didn’t have time to process what I learned from the interviews or how I felt about the people I met. My head was throbbing by the time I crawled back into Habib’s cab.

  As soon as I returned to my hotel room, I peeled my sticky clothes off and took a lukewarm shower. I slipped into a black camisole and a pair of pink cotton shorts before popping some liquid Advil and sprawling out on top of the king size bed.

  When the throbbing in my head subsided, I let my thoughts drift over the day’s events. I liked both senators from Montana, but I was already familiar with aging and health policy initiatives in Montana. If I chose a senator from another state, I might be able to identify some new initiatives that would prove useful in Montana.

  I was admittedly star struck by Senator Kennedy and even more so by Splash, the rambunctious black dog who crashed our interview with a bright yellow tennis ball tucked inside his mouth. But, as tempted as I was to work with Splash, I felt drawn to Senator Rockefeller and his staff. Their passion for helping vulnerable populations was nearly tangible. I couldn’t stop thinking about the framed quote from Hubert Humphrey that I discovered in the senator’s office:

  The moral test of government is how it treats those who are in the dawn of life . . . the children; those who are in the twilight of life . . . the elderly; and those who are in the shadow of life . . . the sick . . . the needy . . . and the disabled.

  It was the most compelling quote I’d ever read. Senator Rockefeller represented a rural state, he held a powerful position on the Senate Finance Committee, he was highly respected, and he was clearly committed to serving vulnerable populations. Yes, I thought, if I’m going to walk away from everything I know and love, then Senator Rockefeller is the one I want to work for.

  As I rolled the idea of working for Senator Rockefeller over in my mind, an overwhelming sense of peace settled over me. Suddenly, everything about my decision and the fellowship felt right.

  * * * * * *

  Habib picked me up at the hotel at nine o’clock the next morning. He dropped me off at the first apartment complex and agreed to return for me in a half hour. I scribbled my cell phone number across the back of my business card and handed it to him as I stepped out of the cab so he could call me if he was tied up with another customer.

 

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