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Authors: Sheila Walsh

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Song of the Brokenhearted (6 page)

BOOK: Song of the Brokenhearted
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Ava shook her head. So Aunt Lorena followed in Grannie's footsteps. “Don't listen to that, okay? You don't have the devil in you.”

The girl giggled. “Okay. Thanks again. Talk to you later.”

After hanging up the phone, Ava saw an unread text on her phone from Dane.

Sorry, sweets. Working at the office through the night. Hope this doesn't wake you. I'll come crash in the morning. Love
.

Ava sighed. She'd have little sleep now. Something was going on in their lives, as if the prelude to an unknown. Ava had never done well with unknowns.

Six

A
VA DROVE INTO A PARKING AREA AT THE
D
ALLAS
-F
ORT
W
ORTH
International Airport. She'd arrived early but carried a novel on the passenger seat to read while she waited. She'd been on the same novel for months now, finding little time to concentrate on her favorite author's new release.

Sienna needs you
.

Ava paused at the thought. Was that God speaking to her heart, or was she letting her imagination get the best of her?

What was there to worry about?

It wasn't the first time such words had bubbled into her thoughts when thinking of Sienna or even when she wasn't thinking about her at all. There was nothing she could pinpoint, other than the whispers.

Sometimes Ava couldn't wait for the wedding to be behind them. The idea of her daughter safely placed with such a great guy soothed her heart. Sienna and Preston were moving back to Dallas, and Ava had imagined sharing recipes, meeting her daughter at their favorite boutiques, going to lunch, and picking out colors for the nursery before long. Ava had already volunteered to babysit if Sienna wanted to continue working.

Dane loved Preston as well, always slapping him on the back with a wide grin. They were both grateful to have Sienna with someone grounded and responsible in comparison to Sienna's first crush—a hippie Christian singer who wore jeans tighter than their daughter's and who rarely wore shoes.

Preston came from a stable family, had grown up in a church much like their own, would finish grad school before their wedding, and had already interned at an international finance company. Life didn't usually wrap things up so nicely. It was a blessing indeed.

As she turned off the engine, her phone flashed Kayanne's face above the number.

“Let me guess, you're already at the airport because you can't help being early everywhere you go?” Kayanne said after Ava answered.

“You know me too well,” Ava said, knowing she wouldn't be reading her novel now.

“Hang on, I need to take this call. It's my delinquent date.”

“Where are you?”

“The grassy knoll,” Kayanne said matter-of-factly.

“The what—where?”

“You know, the grassy knoll where JFK was shot. Tell you all about it soon, but gotta go for now. I'll be back before you can say conspiracy theory.”

The line went dead, and Ava stared at the phone and shook her head. Kayanne's dating adventures never failed to amuse and worry her.

Ava opened up the wedding files and her to-do list on the tablet. She and Sienna would work on wedding plans over the weekend. They needed to decide on a guest list—particularly Ava's side of the family. After her cousin Bethany's late-night phone call, did that mean she'd need to invite them all? Ava pinched her forehead at the thought.

She still wondered about her daughter's voice—the tone of it. The little-girl-lost tone she'd caught, despite how Sienna later sounded when they'd talked. Her daughter assured her that everything was fine. Preston had a guys' fishing trip, and she'd decided on a whim to come home.

Ava pulled up the guest list for the wedding. Preston's family filled several page-long columns. Sienna's family was less numerous unless they invited the whole dysfunctional clan, but Sienna hadn't seen them since she was a child. Ava recalled their last visit had been a family reunion where Bethany and Deb had seen Sienna's doll. The girls were so taken by it that Ava had sent them each their own.

The wedding already exceeded their initial budget, but six months earlier Dane had given his daughter carte blanche to have the wedding of her dreams. Dane was more indulgent of Sienna than Ava would have liked, but their daughter hadn't turned into a spoiled monster as she'd feared. Sienna was a lovely young woman now, and she tried keeping the wedding within reason—whatever that meant.

Ava stared at the list with only her brother, Clancy, moved into the “invite” row. She had three aunts still alive, numerous cousins, and unknown numbers of their children. They were like a troupe from
The Beverly Hillbillies
, but not half as nice. Sienna had given her the option to invite all or none of them. Her children didn't know their mother's family other than a few visits from their Uncle Clancy.

Perhaps Preston's family had seen the invitation list—or lack of one on Sienna's side—and that was the problem. What if they made her daughter feel as if she didn't measure up to their family?

Ava had been made to feel that way. Dane's mother, Norma, had wanted him to marry her best friend's daughter. Dane's family was oil people. Who was Ava? She was the daughter of a poor family who'd come from Oklahoma and tried to pass themselves off as Texans—South Texans of all things. Dane had the heritage of true Texas blood. His ancestors fought in the Spanish-American War, died in the Alamo, and secretly leaned toward Texas as an independent country. Ava's relatives wore gray in the War between the States, although why this mattered, Ava didn't know. Dane had rolled his eyes about it.

Even worse, Ava had left God's country to live in California—California of all places! If Norma knew her granddaughter was doing the same, she might come back to life and put things right.

At Ava's engagement party, Norma had downed a few too many sangrias and whispered loudly, “I guess we should thank our stars that she's on her first marriage, at least as far as we know.”

Dane took Ava's side, which put his mother in tears. Insults were flung, glasses broken, and the scandal helped Norma accept an elopement instead of a wedding, much to Ava's relief.

This wedding was resurrecting the memories. Ava hadn't realized what a wonderful few decades of peace it had been without much interference from the mess of blood relatives on either side of the family.

Her phone buzzed on the passenger seat.

“I can't talk long, we're going to dinner soon,” Kayanne said out of breath.

“Are you seriously on the grassy knoll?”

“Yes, and this guy is now fully convinced that there was more than one shooter in President Kennedy's assassination. He's up in the Texas Depository right now.”

“Isn't that a museum?”

“It is, and he's at the window checking it all out. He just called and said that not even a professional could have shot JFK from there.”

Ava glanced at her watch to make sure she wasn't late meeting Sienna. “I'm still unclear as to why you are on the knoll.”

“This is the site of the suspected second shooter—or one of them.”

“Yes, I know.”

“John asked me to stand on the grassy knoll so he can see my location from the window where Lee Harvey Oswald made his shots.”

“How old is he? Where is he from? Who is this guy?”

“He's from Topeka and is kind of a JFK history buff.”

“O-kay.”

“I didn't know that part of his personality until right before he flew out.”

“He flew out to meet you? And you were going to tell me this . . . when?”

“He came out on business. We met on Christian Daters.”

Ava smacked her forehead with her hand. “What? You joined?”

“I didn't want to tell you. It's only been a few days.”

“And he wanted to meet you after a few days.”

“Since he was out here anyway, he asked if I wanted to meet. Don't worry, it's all very safe even if he is a bit odd.”

“I'm more than a little freaked out by this.”

“I'll text you my locations. And we have the fail-safe word too.”

Ava's electronic tablet popped up an alert.

“I need to grab Sienna—my flight app says she's about to land. Remember I'm out at the airport if you send the fail-safe word.”

“Good to know—and I don't know what to tell you.”

“About what?”

“Asking Sienna if there's anything to be worried about.”

Ava had forgotten she'd sent Kayanne a text about her niggling concern over her daughter.

“I'm afraid I'm making this about me. And my past.”

“Could be. You need to figure that out before you say anything.”

Ava leaned her chin onto her hand and thought this over, examining her hands that were showing more veins beneath her skin. The years were inching their way into her body, and yet Ava didn't feel any different from the young girl she'd been, climbing the branches of a willow tree and playing in the tall grassy fields of South Texas.

“Prayer,” Kayanne said with the sound of wind crackling the line.

“Yes,” Ava said with a smile.
Of course, that was exactly right
.

“I often repeat the advice you give me. But I just received a text and my date would like me to move four steps to the left.

I gotta step.”

“Be careful!” Ava said, but Kayanne was already gone.

Seven

“O
H MY GIRL
, ”A
VA SAID, PULLING HER DAUGHTER INTO A TIGHT
hug as she came through the doors into baggage claim. Sienna had lost weight, but Ava didn't want to comment on it—at least not yet. Her makeup was hiding dark circles, a surefire sign of stress and exhaustion.

“Hi, Mom.” Sienna hugged her, squeezing tighter than she had in a long while. This wasn't her independent, confident daughter. Now that Ava could see for herself, her heart raced with concern.

“Let's get you home,” she said, weaving her arm around Sienna's waist. Her daughter slumped into silence as they waited for her luggage.

“Did your flight go all right?”

“Yep.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“A little tired. But I'm excited to be here.”

Ava didn't see any excitement in her daughter.

“Maybe you can take a nap before the game.”

“In my old room.” She smiled then. “That sounds really good about now.”

“It seems like I haven't seen you in forever.” It had been since their wedding shopping weekend in New York in August. Sienna couldn't find a dress. Every store they visited looked at them hungrily at first—they could spot people with expensive taste the second they walked in the door. But within fifteen minutes, the salespeople also identified a difficult client. Sienna had no vision for what her dress should look like. She offered no direction whatsoever.

“I'll know it when I see it,” she'd stated much to everyone's chagrin. That shopping trip, as well as the one in Dallas, all the online research, and way too many hours watching wedding shows on TLC had yet to provide Sienna with any sense of “knowing it.” They were planning another trip to LA after the holidays, though Ava was toying with a surprise trip to London and Paris as a Christmas gift to her daughter. Dane had loved the idea, though Ava wondered if it crossed the line of extravagance and indulgence and other such “ance” words that she herself had never known as a child.

Sienna had been a little girl with big wedding dreams. She'd created an elaborate wedding plan when she was thirteen and going to marry Orlando Bloom in a castle in Scotland.

The wedding was eight months away, and the wedding planner kept reminding them that they were now a month behind the schedule she'd given them. Sienna hadn't tackled the list of questions Ava e-mailed her, but Ava knew her daughter was busy with her classes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ava asked as they reached the car. The interior was hot with Indian summer popping them back into eighty-degree temperatures. Ava opened the trunk and helped Sienna slide her lone overnight bag inside. When had her daughter gone anywhere without a suitcase and carry bag?

“What do you mean?” She sat in the passenger seat and bit on the edge of her nails as Ava hopped behind the wheel and turned the key.

“Do you”—she turned to Sienna—“want to talk?”

“Talk about what?” Sienna stared out the front window as if enthralled by the parking garage. She turned to look at Ava with an innocent expression, then bit again at her nails.

“What is this surprise visit really about?”

“I miss my family.” Sienna shrugged.

“It took you three years of college to finally miss us, huh?”

BOOK: Song of the Brokenhearted
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