The Broken Road (The Broken Series) (2 page)

“You
need to consider this.”

I
pulled my eyes away from the computer as I shifted my attention to my boss. I
hadn’t even heard him walk into my office. “Consider what?”

Charlie
tossed a piece of paper on my desk. “This.”

I
spent a respectable five seconds glancing over the paper. “A senate fellowship?
In DC? I don’t want to live in DC,” I scoffed. “Nobody wants to live in DC.”

Charlie
folded his arms across his chest. One of those knowing looks settled on his
face. “Well, then. Maybe you need to think about taking the road less traveled.”

I
couldn’t resist the sigh or the eye roll. “Charlie, I was just accepted to law
school. I’ve wanted this since I was in high school.” I paused, remembering the
reason why. My uncle had been murdered when I was sixteen years old. The
brutality behind his death created a lasting impression, as had the special
prosecutor who handled the case. I once dreamed of working with him. Sadly, I
was derailed.

I
shifted my focus back to Charlie. “It has taken me a long time to get to a
place in my life where I can actually make this happen. Why would I throw in
the towel on law school to go work in Congress? Those yahoos don’t have a clue
how to help people. I
like
helping people, and I’m limited without a law
degree.”

“The
fellowship is only for a year. You can delay law school another year. Besides,
there are ways you can help people without a law degree. What do you think
you’re doing now?” Charlie smiled. “Think about it. That’s all I'm asking.”

“Okay,”
I grudgingly conceded. Charlie was one of those people who seemed to have a
direct line to God. So if he thought I should consider the fellowship, then I
probably should. Charlie was also the most amazing boss to walk the planet, so
it’s not like I wanted to leave my job, but this unfulfilled dream of becoming
a lawyer was difficult to walk away from. My ex-husband had been dead set
against it. He had actually forbidden me to go to law school when I graduated
with my bachelor’s degree in pre-law. Now that my divorce was final, I wanted
to regain some control over my life. Following through with law school seemed
like the best place to start.

Charlie’s
voice interrupted my thoughts. “So, what are you working on? You were hard at
it when I walked in here.”

I
was glad he asked. “Have you ever heard of a long term care facility forcing
someone to have a DNR on file… just because that person has cancer and is
considered terminal? The woman actually wants to be resuscitated. Shouldn’t the
Patient Self-Determination Act apply here? She wants to continue fighting the
cancer, and it doesn’t sound like death is imminent.”

Charlie’s
jaw clenched. “No. Which long term care facility is this?”

“Shady
Grove. I don’t know what’s going on over there, but the Medicaid Fraud
Investigator stopped by my office yesterday to discuss an elder abuse case from
that facility. We need to do a surprise inspection on that place. Can you set
one up?”

“Sure.
I’ll see how quickly we can pull a team together. You should call your friends
over at the Medical Review Board. See what they think about the DNR issue. I’ve
never heard of a medical provider insisting on a DNR. The only cases I’m
familiar with are the ones where the medical providers refuse to comply with
the DNR. Typically they err on the side of life.”

“I
know. I’m having a hard time understanding this, but I think I need to call the
administrator at the facility to hear their side of the story. If she confirms
what I heard from the resident, then I’ll call the Board. Hopefully it’s some
sort of misunderstanding.”

“Sounds
like a plan, but don’t forget about the fellowship. I want you to look into
that too… and I want you to pray on it, Kri. The deadline for applying is next
week.”

I
smiled. Charlie was always looking for ways to strengthen my relationship with
God. “I will, Charlie. I promise.”

Charlie
turned toward the door. “Oh, and Kri? It’s 5:30. Go home.”

I
gave one last longing look at the research beckoning from my computer. I shut
my computer down with a sigh. There were never enough hours in a day.

*
* * * * *

A
few days later, I was back in my office. Nervous energy coursed through my
bouncing knee as I anxiously awaited Charlie. He was across the street
defending our budget to the state legislature. I didn’t envy him that job. Last
year’s forest fires had wiped out the general fund. All of state government were
facing cuts this year. The Montana Department of Health and Human Services,
where I worked, was no exception.

My
best friend, Kimme, was nervously twisting around in the chair on the other
side of my desk as she looked through the glass wall toward Charlie’s office.
Her deep auburn hair was pulled back in a knot at the nape of her neck.

While
Kimme and I were a lot alike, we couldn’t have looked more different. Where she
was petite, I was tall. While her perfectly straight hair stopped just short of
her shoulders, my pale blond hair fell down my back in messy waves. Kimme had
striking emerald eyes. Mine were blue or gray, depending on the day. Kimme had
curves in all the right places. My figure was bordering on boyishly thin.
Despite these differences, our friendship was tightly woven by our similar
pasts, a passion for helping those who were vulnerable, a deep sense of
justice, and a penchant for mischief. We had both been broken by our
ex-husbands, but Kimme was two steps ahead of me in the healing process. She
had already found a way to rebuild her confidence. I was still working on mine.

Kimme
leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Do you think we’re going to get
in trouble?” Her green eyes lit with excitement. I thought it was hysterical
she’d even ask. Whenever we were together, Charlie referred to us as “the power
of K
²
.” We were a force to be reckoned with, and Charlie knew it.

I
shook my head. “No. Charlie will laugh. Besides, he deserves it after calling
my desk and hanging up on me all morning long, just for giggles. Not to mention
what he did with that super soaker last Friday.” Charlie was not your typical
boss. Things could get pretty tense around our office, especially when the
legislature was in session, so Charlie liked to lighten things up with his Nerf
and squirt gun arsenal.

We
both stilled as Charlie walked into his office. His silver hair glowed under
the harsh office lights. He didn’t even look twice at his phone. He was sifting
through a pile of papers on his desk.

Kimme,
who was trying her best to be inconspicuous, raised a perfectly waxed eyebrow
at me.

I
shrugged. “Maybe I should call him…”

Kimme
nodded. A huge grin spread like wildfire across her face.

 I
dialed Charlie’s number, then sat back and stared at his office.

Charlie
turned toward his phone. Quirking his head slightly, he studied my handy work.
I had Saran wrapped his phone with an entire box of Saran Wrap. His eyes shot
up as Kimme and I burst out laughing. A mischievous look sparked in his ice
blue eyes.

My
eyes widened as he leaned toward the file drawer where he keeps the super
soaker. “Run!” I squealed. I grabbed my purse and shoved Kimme out the door
ahead of me. It was close to five o’clock… close enough to call it a day
anyway.

We
were dripping wet and laughing hysterically before we even reached the stairs.
We were fast... but Charlie was faster. Of course, he wasn’t wearing heels.

* * * * * *

That
night, I mulled over the fellowship application while toying with a tuna melt
sandwich. The idea of living in DC was
not appealing to me at all
,
but
law school was proving problematic. I was struggling to find affordable housing
in Missoula, which meant I’d have to apply for more student loans. By my
calculations, law school was going to set me back a hundred thousand dollars.
There’s no way I could make those kind of student loan payments working in
public service law.

The
fellowship paid a sixty thousand dollar stipend for the year. That was nearly
double my current salary. Of course, the cost of living in DC was much higher
than in Montana, but still, that was a lot of money.

My
attorney friends warned me that I wouldn’t be able to work during the first
year of law school. Evidently, the course load was so demanding it was
impossible to manage even a part-time job. Most of these friends were actively
discouraging me from going to law school. They weren’t happy practicing law.
Charlie hadn’t been the only one telling me there were other ways to help
people.

“Why
do people keep telling me that?”
I asked the silver and black ball of
fur curled next to me on the couch. Cade lifted his head and gave me an
inquisitive look. As only a nine pound Shih Tzu could, Cade had long operated
under the misperception that he was a Rottweiler. He had risked his life to
save mine multiple times. We were completely inseparable.

I
scratched under his chin. “Don’t worry, little buddy. You go where I go.”
Reassured, Cade tucked his face back into his paws. I raked my hand soothingly
through his soft fur before retrieving a pen and paper from the coffee table.
Drawing a long line down the center of the paper, I made two columns. I wrote “law
school” at the top of the first column and “fellowship” at the top of the
second.

An
hour later, I was still mulling over the list. I was surprised to find more
advantages and less disadvantages listed in the fellowship column. I set the
paper aside, then rubbed my blurry eyes. There was only one thing left to do.
Pray.

*
* * * * *

I
was crawling under my desk, trying to retrieve my pen, when Charlie popped into
my office. “God spoke to me last night.”

I
peeked out from under the desk.

Charlie
was leaning against the door to my office with an amused look on his face.

I
pulled myself up. I tossed the pen on the desk and reached for my coffee cup as
I sank into my chair. “Really? Why doesn’t God ever speak to me?” I
contemplated the answer to my own question as I warmed my hands against my
coffee cup and breathed in the rich, earthy aroma.

Charlie
smiled. “He does. You’re just not listening.”

I
scowled at him.

Charlie
smiled as he dropped into the chair across from my desk. “He asked me to give
you a message.”

I
raised my eyebrows, encouraging him to go on.

“Apply.”

I
leaned back in my chair and smiled. “How is it that you got the answer to
my
prayer?”

Charlie
just grinned.

I
couldn’t help but wonder if he really did have a direct line to God. I chose my
next words carefully. “I’ve given it some thought, Charlie. I’ll apply, but
only one person in the entire country is awarded this fellowship each year. I
seriously doubt they’re going to pick me.”

“I
don’t. Here’s my letter of recommendation and one from Mike.” Mike was
Charlie’s boss and the head of our department. Charlie unfolded himself from
the chair and placed the letters on my desk.

I
stared at the letters, completely stunned. “Now I really do have to apply.” I tried
not to smile as I glanced at Charlie. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

Charlie
rolled his eyes as he rose from his chair. “Today, Kri. Get it done today.”

This
time, I couldn’t decide whether to scowl or smile.
Should I be concerned
that he didn’t answer my question?
I turned to my computer as I
contemplated how best to approach the essay for the fellowship application.
What
do I hope to accomplish with this fellowship?
I began typing and quickly
lost myself in the possibilities.

My
printer was grinding out the application materials when Charlie reappeared
hours later. “Are you ready to leave?” He had an odd look on his face.

“Yep.
I just finished my application for the senate fellowship. I was going to take
it up to the front office and leave it for FedEx.” I took a deep breath.
Am
I really doing this?

Charlie
cleared his throat. He looked uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “You
know, I saw that Michael character sitting outside in the parking lot. His Saab
convertible is hard to miss. Is that restraining order still in effect?”

My
heart stalled as I sank back into my chair. “Yes, it is,” I whispered. “When
did you see him out there?”

“Just
a few minutes ago, on my way back from the Capitol.” Charlie ran a hand through
his hair. He appeared to be choosing his words carefully. “Kri, there is
something about that man that rubs me the wrong way. How much do you know about
him?” Charlie leaned against the door, concern etched across his kind face.

I
slowly pulled the application materials from the printer before responding.
“Not much, Charlie. I know he’s originally from Portugal, and he’s working over
at the State Board of Investments. I think he’s a financial analyst. He said
something about managing hedge funds. We only went on four dates.”