Song of the Brokenhearted (5 page)

She closed the program without hitting Save or Send. This was Angry Draft. Tomorrow she'd be better prepared to write a more diplomatic e-mail.

Annoyance pulsed through Ava as she rose from the couch, picking up the remote to switch from television to a music station playing acoustic guitar. In the kitchen she turned on the teapot and pulled down three packets of tea. Sleepytime for Jason and herself, and a black for Dane.

She opened the French doors and stepped out to take in the scent of an autumn night. Her mind wandered until she realized she'd walked down the path to the willow tree. Its silhouette cut against the night sky, and the leaves and branches fluttered softly as a wisp of a breeze moved through the yard.

In the low light it was harder to see signs of further degeneration. For a moment, the tree appeared as whole and healthy as ever.

But the last time she'd viewed it, the tree was certainly going downhill. It wasn't just losing autumn leaves—they'd become brittle and dry.

Ava sensed that she needed to stay here, to rest beneath the branches and wait for God to guide her. A whisper to her heart said, “Wait a moment.”

Her life was filled with blessings. They'd had a long season with everything going well, yet something nagged at her. Her childhood had taught her to expect the worst. Every good season was shadowed with the fear of what bad would surely come. It was like swimming in a perfect sea with the fear of sharks lurking beneath every kick and stroke of her arms.

A wisp of wind pushed harder through the leaves, perhaps God's display of His presence.
I am here
.

Ava's restlessness got the best of her. She paused on the walk back toward the house, stopping by the pool, newly protected for the winter with a thick plastic cover. Their yard guy would be there in the morning, but Ava liked the mess of leaves that decorated the pathway and deck chairs.

She gazed through the window with the sense of an outsider's view of her family. A light switched off from the window above her. Jason was going to sleep, and her husband was still working on his computer. He'd moved from his spot on the couch, yet he hadn't wondered where she'd gone or why Jason was annoyed at him again.

Dane's distraction was taking a toll like the small bites of a piranha that soon ate entire creatures whole. After all these years, she could still so easily go from prayerful and peace-filled to anxious, as if the fears and stress crowded around the corners of life, seeking any opening to steal themselves inside.

The autumn breeze curled around her, softening her mood as she looked up at the stars. God was with her, tugging at her to draw closer. It was time for her to listen even more. Wasn't that the advice she'd give at Bible study?

Back inside, the kettle whistled from the stove, sending out a plume of steam into the air. The microwave door was fogged, and most of the water had evaporated. Jason was sleeping anyway. She poured Dane a cup and herself a half cup. She popped the tea bags into the water, which made her think of Aunt Jenny, who would've insisted she use loose-leaf tea.

“The willow tree isn't getting better,” Ava said as she set Dane's cup of tea onto the table beside him. He didn't raise his head from the computer and made only a slight grunt in response. She didn't expect Dane to jump up and rush out to save the tree, but his complete lack of concern nipped at her. He and little Sienna had helped her plant it those many years ago. He knew it was special to her—why else had he built the bench there one Mother's Day? Dane didn't thank her for the tea, but took a sip and set it back down as if she weren't there at all.

“Am I talking to myself?” Ava said, staring at her husband.

Dane glanced up, then returned to studying his computer.

“Tree isn't looking good,” he repeated in a monotone voice.

“I hope it doesn't die after all these years,” Ava said flatly.

Dane groaned and stood abruptly. “I need to go back in.”

Ava looked up at the large clock on the wall. “It's almost ten.”

“I'm aware of that.” Dane closed his laptop and stuffed it into his bag.

“But—”

“Call Leo about the tree. That's what we pay him for,” Dane said as he grabbed his keys and kissed her good-bye.

“We pay him to clean up the yard.”

“See if he can fix a tree as well.”

“What's his number?” Ava said testily. Why wouldn't Dane offer to call him? They lived under the unspoken agreement that she handled the inside of the house and he did the outside.

“I'll text it to you,” he said over his shoulder.

“I want to talk about some things. What time will you be home?”

Ava tried to think what she'd advise someone else in her shoes. She'd tell the woman to pray for her husband, try to be supportive, but to also be clear in verbalizing that she needed from him. She'd seen too many couples take severe turns in opposite directions and end in divorce within a year or two of being happy and solid.

“I'll be late. Can't talk tonight. How about this weekend?”

“Sienna will be here this weekend.” Ava followed him to the garage.

“That's right, well, we can still talk when she's here.”

“What is going on at work?” she asked pointedly.

It tapped at her thoughts, the fear of every woman when her husband started working late. She'd seen it a thousand times, and she knew her life wasn't immune to such crisis.

Dane stopped, turning around. His tense expression softened as he looked at her face. He reached for her hand, but she kept it stiff and unresponsive.

“Hey, I'm sorry. Really I am. The board is meeting for a special session in the morning. Some investors are flying into Dallas on Thursday, and we're having a crisis with the portfolio getting finished.”

“So this is about the merger? Is everything all right?”

Dane shrugged. “With this economy, nothing is all right.”

“So . . . what does that mean? In laywoman's terms.”

“Let's talk tomorrow night after the game. We'll sit on the balcony and have a glass of wine. I'm sure Sienna will be visiting old friends anyway. Oh, can you grab her from the airport? I sent her a text that I can't pick her up. We're having that meeting with the board all afternoon.”

This wasn't like Dane. He always picked Sienna up from the airport. Dad and daughter had a special relationship, as if they'd been woven together using the same ingredients.

“Sure, I can. What's the meeting about?”

“A few tricky things. Don't worry.” He came around and kissed her neck. His lips were cold, making her flinch.

Ava turned out the house lights and locked the doors.

Don't worry
.

Five

“T
HIS IS
A
VA
K
ENT,” SHE SAID, ANSWERING THE PHONE BEFORE
she was fully awake. Her hand reached for her notebook and pen in the drawer as she bumped her head on the edge of the bedside table.

Sitting up, she rubbed her head and glanced at the space beside her. Dane's side of the bed was empty with the pillow untouched.

“Is this Aunt Ava?”

“Uh-huh,” she muttered, then her eyes flew open. “Um, who are you calling?”

“Aunt Ava?”

“This is . . . Ava,” she said, trying to figure out who'd call her
aunt
. Her mind was still muddled with sleep.

“This is Bethany.”

“Bethany?” Ava knew a few Bethanys, but this voice didn't match those faces. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Do you remember me?”

“Uh, I'm really sorry, I was sound asleep. Who is this again?”

“Bethany. Jessie's daughter.”

Ava's back straightened. Her cousin was Jessie, and yes, her daughter was Bethany.

“Of course. How are you? Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, we're fine. Sorry for calling so late.”

Ava glanced at the clock. No one called at this hour unless it was a tragedy. She braced herself for the news.

“Do you remember me and my sister, Debbie?”

“I do, it's just been such a long time. The last time I saw you, you were running around with a doll in your hands.” Ava rubbed her eyes.

“It was an old doll, and after that, you sent me and Deb both a baby that sucks on a bottle and had eyes that open and close. It was the first doll that we didn't have to share. Remember?”

“I do sort of remember. I'd forgotten about that. How old are you now?”

“Sixteen,” she said softly, and there was a long pause.

“Bethany, did something happen?” Ava asked, sensing the girl wanted to share something.

“What do you mean?”

Ava cleared her throat. “So nothing bad happened?”
You're just calling a long-lost relative after midnight and no one is dead or dying?

“No, um, not really. Everyone is fine, I mean.”

Ava was sure the girl wasn't telling her something. She opened the bedroom door and walked to the staircase, leaning over to see if Dane was downstairs somewhere. All of the lights except for the one over the kitchen sink were still turned off.

“I just hadn't talked to you in a real long time. You still living in Dallas?”

“We do.”

“Mama says you live in a mansion.”

Ava wanted to laugh at that. Compared to many of their friends, their house was quite humble. As she leaned against the upper banister, the low light caught on the crystal chandelier hanging from the tall ceiling in the foyer. She thought how she'd have viewed this house from the perspective of herself as a young woman like Bethany.

“It's not really a mansion, but we've very grateful to be here. Do you get to Dallas often?” Ava hesitated to offer a full invitation. If she opened this door, there was no guessing what relatives might follow.

“I went there a few years back when Deb's boyfriend went into the army. We drove on up to the airport and back home. I wanted to go to the mall but Mama wouldn't let us. She said I'd get discontent with wanting more than I need.”

Ava glanced at the clock. It was nearly one in the morning.

“Well, maybe you'll have to come visit sometime,” Ava said, cringing at the thought. For a number of years her family had periodically popped into their lives, always wanting something. Dane did more than she thought he should—it fed the monster. It was one thing to help family, but they wanted large sums to invest in their business ideas, which included her cousin's invention of a solar-powered distillery, a pyramid scheme that would make them rich without having to work, a partnership in a dilapidated bowling alley (Ava and Dane would buy it and her Cousin Frankie would run it), and a loan for something no one would explain, yet Ava knew was most likely drug related.

Ava had stopped it. She cut the ties despite the angry calls and letters saying they would disown her. She'd hoped they had.

Now after years of silence, this girl was calling and Ava opened the door.

“I might take you up on that,” the girl said in a cheery voice.

“Well, I have to get up early tomorrow,” Ava said as nicely as possible, amazed again by the lack of manners. Her daddy hadn't allowed phone calls after nine o'clock when she was growing up.

“You got a job to go to?” Bethany asked.

“I do a lot of volunteer work, and Sienna's coming home from California for the weekend.”

“She's in college, huh? I was so jealous of her growing up. And I always wanted to be just like you, marry a rich guy and give my kids really nice stuff.”

Ava bit her lip. “That's not exactly what happened . . .”

“I know, didn't mean nothing by it. Anyway, maybe I'll call you again sometime? If . . . that's okay . . .”

“Is everything really all right, Bethany?” Ava had the sudden awareness that there must be something wrong, that was why the girl was reaching out to her. Here she'd jumped to the conclusion that this was another family member wanting something. But hadn't she once been a girl trapped in that same family? Perhaps Bethany was looking for a life preserver like the one Aunt Jenny had been for her.

The girl didn't answer, and Ava heard some rustling in the background.

“Bethany? Are you there? You can tell me if there's a problem.”

She heard muffled whispers before Bethany returned to the phone.

“I'm fine . . . well, I'm good enough, if you know what I mean. But nice you asked it. Nobody asks me that.”

“If you need somebody to talk to you, go ahead and call me . . . anytime.” Ava squeezed her forehead as she said it.

“Thank you, Auntie Ava. I 'preciate it. Maybe I'll come to Dallas and visit. Maybe someday I'll go to college too. Just don't tell Great-Aunt Lorena, she already thinks I have the devil in me.”