Page 12 of Beautifully Broken Control

“Hey, Kennedy!” Doug’s bright voice greeted from the space that served as both rec room and cafeteria.

I headed in the direction of the program director’s voice. “Hey, Doug. How are you?”

“Doing great.” He reached out for my bag of goodies from the Kettle. “Here, let me take those.”

“Thank you.” I released my hold on the bag and started towards the kitchen.

Doug followed. “How was ballet today?”

I smiled at the memory of my last class. The eight-year-olds I taught on Mondays always reminded me why I’d fallen in love with dance in the first place. They would come in wearing leotards and tutus, and when they spun in front of the mirror, they could be anyone their imagination dreamed up. “It was great.”

He set the bag down on one of the counters. “You know, the Portland Ballet is putting onSwan Lakenext month. Maybe we could go?”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. Doug was a great guy, I valued his friendship and all he did for the shelter, but I felt no spark there. “I don’t know. I’m pretty busy these days.”

Doug reached out a hand and squeezed my shoulder. “You work too hard. Everyone deserves a break now and then.”

A throat cleared, and Doug dropped his hand. I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Anna. “You ready to get started?” she asked, her eyes flicking back and forth between Doug and me.

I bent to put my bag in one of the cubbies. “Yup. Just let me wash my hands.”

Doug shuffled his feet. “I’ve got some paperwork to finish up but give me a holler when you guys are ready to serve the meal, I’ll come out and help.”

Anna gave Doug a mock salute. “Will do, boss man.”

Doug chuckled, shaking his head and moving towards his office.

“Girl, at some point, you’re going to have to just come out and tell him you’re not interested.”

My stomach twisted. “He’s only being friendly.”

Anna shook her head and began chopping vegetables. “Friendly is, ‘here, let me carry that bag.’ Not, ‘let me take you to Portland to go to some fancy-schmancy ballet,’ something that will probably cost him hundreds of dollars.” She raised her brows at me to punctuate her point.

I turned on the faucet and dunked my hands beneath the spray. “He’s a friend, a good one. I think he’ll eventually get the message I’m not interested in more.” I truly believed he would. It wasn’t like he was creepy about his advances; he just had a schoolboy crush. He’d get over it.

Anna grunted and continued her chopping. “Whatever you say.”

I reached for a towel to dry my hands. “So, how were things around here today?”

“Oh, the usual. Folks bickering over what chores they were assigned. Cal trying to steal food between mealtimes. Lizzie spilled paint all over one of the rec tables.” Anna dumped the carrot she’d been chopping into a large pot on the stove.

I raised my brows at her. “Thank goodness they’ve got you to keep this place running.”

Anna pointed her knife at me, and her face broke out into a grin. “And don’t you forget it.”

Anna was a shelter hybrid. She’d moved in as a guest, and like all those who stayed here, she had been required to work to help keep the place running. But, unlike the others who typically used the shelter as a brief stop on their way to something more permanent, Anna had stayed. Now, she pretty much ran the show. Doug might have the director plaque on his door, but everyone knew it was Anna who really called the shots.

We worked together in a mostly silent rhythm, broken only by Anna assigning me tasks, ones she knew were within my skill set where I wouldn’t accidentally set the kitchen on fire. This was my favorite part of the day. The one time the guilt released its hold, just a bit. The one time I didn’t feel like a drain on the world around me, but instead like I gave something back. The one time a feeling of worth truly seeped into my bones and settled there.

I just wished it would stay a little bit longer.

4

Cain

There wasa pop as the door to my jet opened, a release of pressure mirrored in my chest. Relief at getting some distance from Portland, having some privacy to deal with every demon this past week had raised, and simply having a moment to breathe.

I rose from my seat, grabbing my briefcase. The flight attendant stepped into the aisle, looking up at me through fluttering lashes. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Hale? Anything at all?”

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