The Broken Road (The Broken Series)

by Ruff, K. S.

  Cade whimpered softly.

  I grabbed the dog carrier from the back seat while Habib pulled my luggage from the trunk.

  I stopped inside the lease office to pick up my keys. Then Habib and I dragged my suitcases to the apartment. I unlocked the door and looked around in surprise. I had forgotten how tiny the apartment was.

  Habib pulled the luggage inside, then lingered in the doorway. “When do you need to be at work in the morning?”

  I set the dog carrier on the living room floor, released Cade, and scooped him into my arms. “I need to be at work by nine o’clock.”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven, just to be safe. I don’t live far from here, so please call if you need anything.”

  I smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Habib.”

  I locked the door behind Habib before setting Cade on the floor. I laughed as he began sniffing every square inch of the apartment. I unzipped both suitcases, unpacked his food, and filled his water dish. He lapped up the water while I pulled granola bars, coffee, crackers, tuna fish, apples, a small jar of chunky peanut butter, and a bag of Ghirardelli chocolates from my suitcase. I studied the food as I set it on the counter. Something was missing, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was.

  I pulled paper plates, a bag of plastic utensils, a can opener, and a roll of paper towels out of the suitcase and carted them off to the kitchen. Cade trailed after me. I put the washrags, towels, and toilet paper in the bathroom. Then I tugged the blankets and pillow from the bottom of the suitcase and made a makeshift bed on the floor of the bedroom.

  I grabbed the iron and plugged it in so I could iron the wrinkles out of my work clothes. I ironed my clothes over the top of my pillow, since the movers had my ironing board. I eyed my handiwork and thought about how my Girl Scout years had really paid off. Then I dialed a Chinese takeout place Mickey had recommended.

  Cade and I explored the garden trails that wove around the apartment complex while we waited for the food to arrive. We ate out of the little white boxes while sitting in my makeshift bed. Then I called everyone back home to let them know we had arrived safely.

  Sirens ripped us from sleep a few hours later. Red lights pulsed through my blinds as two massive fire trucks responded to a call in the apartment building across the street. They eventually turned the sirens off, but my bedroom floor vibrated from the idling engines for over an hour. I buried my head under the pillow to block out the flashing lights. Then I pulled Cade against my chest and whispered, “I’ve a feeling we’re not in Montana anymore.”

  * * * * * *

  I suffered a minor meltdown when I realized I had forgotten to pack my French Press. I couldn’t make coffee without it. I am not a morning person. Coffee smooths my rough edges, and I was near hysterics when I realized I couldn’t brew any.

  Cade wasn’t quite sure what to do with me, so he hid under the pile of blankets I had left on the bedroom floor.

  I was completely wrecked by the time Habib picked me up, so he took me straight to Starbucks. I sent up a silent prayer asking God to bless Howard Schultz and Habib Khan Ahmadzai.

  Rush hour traffic was horrid. I was thankful Habib was driving. Still, I carefully observed the route so I would know where to go when my jeep arrived. Thanks in large part to the coffee, I was in a much better frame of mind by the time Habib dropped me off next to the Senate Hart Building.

  The first half of my day was consumed with a new employee orientation, getting my official Senate ID, and sorting through my benefits options. I reported back to Senator Rockefeller’s office shortly before lunch.

  The legislative director escorted me to a desk that was tucked into a small cubby. I eyed my new office with a bit of disappointment. The cubicle was framed on three sides by thin fabric-lined walls that ran about five feet high. The space was just large enough to hold a desk, bookshelf, and chair. I was really going to miss having an office with a door.

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why do I have a TV on my desk?” I hadn’t noticed the TVs when I toured the office during my interview.

  “The TV enables you to monitor hearings on the Senate intranet, activity on the House and Senate floors, as well as the news,” Ellen explained. “Things change on a dime around here, so we need to ensure our information is as current as possible.”

  The news junkie in me nodded enthusiastically. My gaze shifted to a rather ominous looking pile of paperwork, which sat at least six inches high next to the television. I was afraid to ask, so I looked at Ellen and raised an eyebrow.

  She laughed. “In between monitoring developments on the television, answering calls, attending meetings, writing speeches, and drafting legislation, you need to review a pile of paperwork, at least this big, every day. This paperwork generally includes news articles, policy briefings, U.S. Supreme Court decisions, and every piece of proposed legislation in your policy area. This will help you brief the senator on the developments and recommend a course of action. The briefings will be included in the senator’s book.”

  “His book?” I asked uncertainly.

  “The senator’s book is second only to the Bible. If the Senator has a speech the next day, relevant to your policy area, you will be responsible for writing the talking points. If he has a vote, you have to make sure he has the material he needs to make an informed vote. You also have to advise him about what other senators and congressmen are doing, the bills they’re sponsoring, the funding streams, you name it. Jamie compiles all the briefs and supporting documents into a large binder, which we fondly refer to as ‘the book.’ Jamie gives the book to the senator each day at four-thirty, so your work has to be submitted to her no later than four o’clock. Senator Rockefeller takes the binder home and reviews the materials in the evening, in preparation for the next day. You should be aware that if he feels anything is missing, he will call and ask us to come into the office to gather additional research, which then has to be delivered to his house. The senator never sleeps, so he has been known to make these phone calls as late as three in the morning.” Ellen’s message was clear: be on time and be thorough.

  “Wow.” The responsibility was a tad bit overwhelming, and I wasn’t one who shied away from a challenge. I eyed the pile again. I had no clue how I was going to get through those six inches of paperwork in time to write my briefs for today’s four o’clock deadline.

  Ellen offered an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you grab a quick bite to eat before you get started?”

  Patrick peeked over Ellen’s shoulder, which wasn’t difficult given how tall he was. Patrick had escorted me to the new employee orientation when I first reported to the office. My cubicle was located directly across from his. “I’m heading out to pick up the senator’s lunch. Do you want to tag along so you can grab something to eat?”

  “Sure,” I responded gratefully. Two more office mates, Jonathan and Jamie, joined us as we walked out of the office. Like Patrick, Jonathan worked primarily on health policy. Jamie was Senator Rockefeller’s personal assistant. They all appeared to be in their early twenties.

  I was the youngest person working in my office in Montana, so I found the fact that they were so much younger than me a bit unnerving. Besides, there was an energy rolling off Patrick, Jonathan, and Jamie, that I wasn’t quite sure I could duplicate. I felt tired just looking at them.

  The four of us chatted amicably as we walked down the street. We turned the corner after a couple of blocks, then fell in line outside a tiny restaurant. I glanced at the sign. “Yamato? What kind of food does this place serve?”

  “Sushi,” Jonathan responded.

  I couldn’t hide my shock. “Sushi? You mean like raw fish? We’re eating raw fish for lunch?” A sushi restaurant had just opened in Missoula, Montana a few months ago, but I didn’t know a single soul who’d been brave enough to eat the stuff.

  Patrick smiled broadly as he rocked back on his heels. “The senator has a standing order here. He eats sushi every chance he gets. He lived in
Japan for a period of time. He loves Japanese culture and cuisine.”

  “Well, that certainly explains the Japanese artwork in his office,” I murmured thoughtfully. The artwork in Senator Rockefeller’s office was extremely eclectic, with handmade quilts from West Virginia displayed on some walls and Japanese paintings adorning others. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of art he had hanging in his house. I reached for a take-out menu as we entered the restaurant. “I’ve never eaten sushi, so you guys are going to have to help me out here.”

  Jamie pointed to an item on the menu I was holding. “Number six is a pretty safe bet. It’s a sampler set of salmon rolls, spicy tuna rolls, and California rolls.”

  The woman standing behind the cash register looked at me expectantly. I handed her a ten dollar bill. “Number six, please.”

  “Me too,” Jamie piped up. She handed the cashier her debit card.

  Patrick ordered next. “I’ll take two orders of the nigirizushi set, an order of the hotate sushi, and a bowl of miso soup.”

  “This is for Senator Rockefeller?” the cashier asked.

  “Yes. Well, one of the nigirizushi sets is for me,” Patrick explained as he handed her a wad of cash.

  Jamie pointed to an autographed picture of Senator Rockefeller. The photograph was prominently displayed on the wall next to the counter where the sushi chef was working.

  “I’d like an order of rainbow rolls and an order of spider rolls,” Jonathan said with a huge grin on his face.

  “Seriously?” Patrick asked.

  Jonathan handed his debit card to the cashier. “What? I’m hungry, and I couldn’t decide which one I wanted more.”

  I couldn’t help but admire the artistry involved with the food preparation as we watched the sushi chef make the rolls. He nodded and smiled as the waitress packed our food into white paper bags. My new coworkers continued to educate me about sushi and other Japanese food as we walked back to the office.

  Patrick and I parted ways with Jamie and Jonathan as we walked to our desks. I nearly dropped my food when I discovered a deep blue vase holding a dozen long stemmed yellow roses and an impressive spray of baby’s breath. I set my food down and reached for the envelope. My breath caught when I saw who the flowers were from. “Justin?”

  Patrick peered over my shoulder. “Is that your boyfriend back home?”

  I glanced at Patrick. “Uh… no.” My eyes flitted back to the card. I angled the card away from Patrick as I silently read the message.

  Thinking of you and hoping you have a wonderful first day at your new job! Love, Justin.

  I groaned audibly. I threw the card in the trash, marched the flowers to the front office, and plopped the vase in front of two people I didn’t know. “Enjoy,” I mumbled before turning around and walking back to my desk.

  Patrick shot me a curious look as I collapsed into my chair.

  “Don’t ask,” I muttered. I rolled my chair closer to the desk and eyed the sushi.

  Patrick chuckled softly as he approached my desk. “So, these are chopsticks.”

  I gave him a dirty look. “I’m not a complete hick. I have eaten Chinese food before.”

  He laughed loudly this time. “Okay. Then all you need to do is pour the packet of soy sauce into this container of wasabi and stir it up. Pick your sushi roll up with the chop sticks, dip it in the sauce, and pop it into your mouth.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t do soy sauce. Can I just spread the wasabi on top of the sushi?”

  A mischievous look passed over Patrick’s face. “Sure. I don’t see why not.”

  I eyed him skeptically as I dipped my finger into the green paste. “It’s spicy,” I noted, pleasantly surprised.

  Patrick watched, clearly amused, while I spread the wasabi over the top of all six of my sushi rolls. I popped a spicy tuna roll into my mouth. My eyes watered, and my nose ran, but I loved the spicy taste. “It’s good,” I mumbled around the sushi. “Really good.”

  Patrick picked up his chopsticks as he settled back into his chair. “I’m glad you like it. Now, about that pile of paperwork…”

  * * * * * *

  “Finally!” I exclaimed to no one but Cade.

  He looked up at me with his warm brown eyes. He cocked his head to the side, clearly questioning what all the excitement was about.

  I set my cell phone on the kitchen counter. “The furniture will be delivered in less than an hour,” I explained.

  Cade’s ears perked up as a soft knock sounded at the door.

  I gave Cade a curious look. “You off duty, my little guard dog?” I opened the door and studied the young woman standing in front of me.

  She smiled. “Hi! I’m Kelly, the dog walker. We had an appointment to meet today.”

  I shook her hand, then motioned her inside. “Hi, Kelly. I’m Kri. Thanks for coming over.”

  “This must be Cade. Hi, little guy.” Kelly kneeled as she invited Cade to smell her hand. He rolled over and showed her his belly instead. Kelly laughed softly. “Want your belly rubbed?” She immediately indulged him in the request.

  I was pleased to see how well they were hitting it off. Cade was afraid of most people, which was understandable given what he had been through with me. Cade stood guard over me through some difficult times. He had been painfully unaware of the damage that could be done to his little nine pound body when my ex-husband’s fists and feet came flying at me.

  I wasn’t sure about this whole dog walking business, but I couldn’t expect Cade to cross his legs and hold it all day, especially considering my long work hours and the commute. I watched Kelly interact with Cade. Her references had panned out. Everyone raved about her. Still, I wondered how I could trust a stranger with the one thing I loved most in the world.

  “I’m glad Cade likes you. He’s afraid of most people. He’s been through… a lot.”

  Kelly nodded in understanding as she continued petting Cade.

  “I called your references. Your clients obviously adore you; and I understand you’re licensed and bonded.”

  Kelly nodded again.

  I continued. “Cade means everything to me. I have to know that you’ll always have a gentle hand with him. He nearly died at the hands of a groomer, and he was injured by my ex-husband. I have to know that you’ll never hit him or hurt him in any way.”

  Kelly looked appalled that I would even suggest such a thing. “I’m so sorry to hear that Cade’s been through all that. Please know that I would never hit any animal under any circumstance.” Kelly’s voice was genuine as she continued to stroke Cade’s belly. “Can I take him for a walk and explore the property today?”

  “Sure. I think that’s a great idea.” I handed Kelly the leash and showed her where I kept Cade’s treats stashed. As the door closed softly behind them, I tried to rein in my tears. My life was so different in Virginia that it was no longer recognizable. I felt like someone had held me upside down, shaken the life out of me, and left me to pick up the pieces… only none of the pieces were fitting where they’d previously been.

  Kelly and Cade returned just as the moving truck pulled alongside my apartment. I gave Kelly a spare key, we agreed on a time for Cade’s walks, and I pre-paid her for the month. She gave Cade a treat and one last pat on the head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, little buddy.”

  I scooped Cade into my arms and walked Kelly outside. Then Cade and I went to greet the movers. I was anxious to see something familiar, something that would reconnect me with my old life.

  * * * * * *

  Driving up I-395 into DC was a special kind of hell. The other drivers were beyond rude. No one wanted to let me merge onto my exit. I had my turn signal on and tried to inch in, but the cars were bumper to bumper and no one would budge. Some man flipped me off for even trying. For whatever reason, the every-other-car-goes-through rule did not apply inside the Beltway.

  I was forced to take a different exit. I spent twenty minutes looking for a place to pull over so I could program my
Garmin. I hadn’t bothered to program the GPS when I left my house because I’d taken the route so many times with Habib. I knew the way, but I was forced into unfamiliar territory when I missed the stupid exit.

  It took me another fifteen minutes to reach the parking garage under the Thurgood Marshall Building. My nerves were completely shot by the time I parked the jeep. I couldn’t release my death grip on the steering wheel. All I could think about was how much I wanted to move back home. I laid my head on my hands as I burst into tears.

  I'm not sure how long I sat crying in the poorly lit garage, but a security guard eventually rapped on my window. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

  I jumped in my seat when I heard his voice. I released the steering wheel so I could lower my window. “Yes, officer. I’m okay. I’m sorry. It’s just that… this was my first time driving in DC. I’m not used to driving in such a big city.” I brushed the tears off my cheeks. I couldn’t believe I’d been caught crying over my commute.

  His eyes gentled. “Driving around here does take some getting used to.” He glanced at his watch, then added, “I’m Nathaniel. Can I escort you to your office building?”

  I shook my head. “Oh, no. That’s not necessary. I know my way to the Senate Hart Building from here.”

  Nathaniel smiled. “I could really use an excuse to get out of this dingy garage. I much prefer fresh air,” he confided in a soft voice.

  I suspected this was outside Nathaniel’s protocol, but his warm eyes and kind smile were difficult to resist. “Okay. In that case, I’d really enjoy the company.” I smoothed my tear stained hands down my skirt and gathered my purse and briefcase. I left my untouched coffee behind.

  Nathaniel reached for my briefcase as I locked the jeep. “Here, I’ll carry that for you.”

  I smiled gratefully as I handed him the briefcase. “Thanks. It’s really nice to meet you Nathaniel. My name’s Kristine.”

  He fell in beside me as I walked toward the stairwell. “You know, Kristine, everyone struggles with the commute around here. Part of the problem is our transient population. There’s always a good percentage of people on the road who aren’t familiar with the area.” He opened the door to the stairwell and held it open for me.