Free Buffalo West Wing by Julie Hyzy Page B

it was. The bar was busier than I’d seen it before, filled with recognizable movers and shakers interspersed with tourists who could afford this exclusive hotel’s rates. We made a little small talk, and placed our drink orders.
    While he was gone, Cyan took a slow look around the room and commented on a couple of senators having a quiet but heated discussion in the corner. “Wonder what’s up with them.”
    “I’m wondering what’s up with you,” I said.
    She met my gaze, then let hers fall to the table, where she made little circles with her finger on the glossy wood. “I can’t believe I made such a stupid mistake,” she said finally.
    “Let’s not dwell on it,” I said. “The situation is in good hands, and for now at least, your job is safe.”
    “For now,” she repeated.
    “You’ve got more on your mind, haven’t you?”
    Cyan’s eyes teared up. She glanced from side to side and hunched her shoulders. Her voice cracked, but she tried to smile. “Good thing I have my back to the room, huh?” She shook her head. “What is wrong with me? It seems all I ever do these days is cry.”
    Billy returned with my gewürztraminer and Cyan’s merlot. He started to chitchat. “You ladies have been through a lot these past few days. Tonight’s on me. Order something from the kitchen. I know our chef would appreciate the opportunity to test some of his new creations on you two.” At that point, Billy noticed Cyan’s face and took a step back. “Like I said, everything is on the house tonight. Just signal if you need me.”
    I thanked him and promised we would and he left us. “What’s going on, Cyan? Is it Rafe?”
    She nodded, then shook her head. Taking a moment to compose herself, she said, “I know Saturday is your day off, but can I trade with you? I’ve got ...”
    Her composure crumbled.
    I reached across to squeeze her hand. “What’s wrong?”
    She squeezed back, then pulled away to cover her face. “This is so embarrassing,” she whispered. “Is anyone looking at me?”
    Worry bubbled up inside me. “You know this place. Nobody pays attention to anyone else.” She seemed unconvinced, so I added, “Nobody is looking.”
    She bit her lip, then began to talk. “I told you about my mom the other day,” she said. “What I didn’t tell you was how bad it really is. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s—over a year ago—and she’s not safe by herself anymore. I’ve had to hire people to come stay with her while I’m at work, but even so, she came close to starting a fire in the kitchen. She just doesn’t understand things anymore.”
    “I had no idea.”
    “I didn’t want anyone to know. I mean, you never come in and share any problems you’re facing, unless it has something to do with the White House. Neither does Bucky. I didn’t want to bring my family problems into the kitchen. I didn’t want you to think I might make mistakes because my mind was elsewhere. But it looks like that’s exactly what I did.”
    As much as I wanted to disagree, I couldn’t.
    “I’ve been dealing with my mom for a while now. It’s getting to be too much for me to handle on my own.”
    I waited.
    “I found a nursing home that will take her. It’s wildly expensive, but comes highly recommended. I’m supposed to bring her there on Saturday. That’s why I can’t work.”
    “I understand. No problem. I don’t have any plans that day. You take as much time as you need for your mom.”
    She sniffed. “Thanks, Ollie. I knew you’d understand.”
    I waited. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
    It took her another long moment to answer and when she finally did, her words came out fast and breathless as though she’d harbored so much for so long and was finally able to release. “I keep thinking about Rafe and how much fun he’s having in New York. I mean, he’s getting all sorts of exposure in newspapers and magazines. Maybe he made the right move.” Her face was tight with misery.