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Authors: Sheila Walsh

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BOOK: Song of the Brokenhearted
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They walked toward the field and Dane pointed out the teams already warming up. The band tuned their instruments and a whistle blew from either a coach or the bandleader.

Ava walked with her arm through Dane's, though he nearly tripped as he tapped into his phone and checked his e-mail. Sienna stopped frequently as they wove through people with hugs and exclamations of excitement at seeing her again.

Friday night football was a community reunion. Since Ava had started her ministry, she'd been with a number of these families during the loss of a loved one or other tragedy. Dane was a social animal and had connected with much of the community at various sporting events since Jason was five.

Ava noticed more people than normal looking their way and whispering over Sienna's visit. Ava felt that mother-pride in her daughter. Sienna hadn't married right out of high school, she attended a prestigious school, and she'd left Texas to do it. But more than that, today they were together.

They searched for number twenty-two on the sidelines where the team huddled together getting last instructions from Coach Ray. Jason was sitting on the bench, which was unusual for the starting lineup.

“Do people always stare at you guys?” Sienna asked, leaning toward Ava.

“Never. They must be murmuring over how amazing our daughter looks.”

“I'm sure that's it,” Sienna said, rolling her eyes. “But this is so strange seeing all the familiar faces. I can't believe I'm here,” she murmured as she waved to someone as they walked up the stairs of the home team bleachers, searching for a seat.

“What do you mean?”

“It's just so weird. You think high school is never going to end. Now my little brother is here, and I'm an alumni coming back to watch the games. The football players seemed so cool and grown up. I can't quite get my head around the idea that Jason and his annoying buddies are out there, and I'm one of the old alumni we used to make fun of, wearing their high school jackets and T-shirts.”

“You made fun of my high school jacket?” Dane said with a shocked expression.

“Maybe a little.” Sienna winked at her dad.

Dane glanced out onto the field. “I'm sure Jason's buddies would love to see you again. They all had crushes on Jason's big sister.”

“They read my diary. I'll never see them as anything other than little punks.”

Near the top of the bleachers, they found a row unoccupied and settled in with their bleacher seats and blanket. Ava buttoned the large buttons on her jacket as the evening breeze carried a chill that crept around her neck. Dane had barely sat down before he hopped back up.

“I'm off to get some food high in trans fat and cholesterol.”

“What's that—my daddy learned his first foreign language?”

Sienna said.

“Doc said family history can't be ignored, even though my physical said I could still be playing college ball. What do my girls want?”

“What's the hurry?” Ava glanced at her watch. They still had twenty minutes before the game began.

“You never know what kind of line there's going to be down there. I don't want to miss kick off.”

“Nachos. The works.” So Sienna was eating, Ava observed with relief.

“Pretzel with salt and mustard. And two Diet Cokes— right?” Ava glanced at her daughter.

“Of course.”

Dane kissed each of them on top of the head before heading off, but Ava frowned as he slid his phone from his pocket. More business—would it ever end? At least, she hoped it was business.

“Are you still in love with Dad?” Sienna studied her face.

Ava squinted her eye as she studied her daughter in return. This was more than wedding jitters.

“Why?” Ava asked.

She shrugged. “I don't know. Just wondering.”

“Earlier you asked me how I knew your father was the one.”

“Is there a law about asking my mom questions?” Sienna said with a smile.

“There just might be.”

“Tell me,” she said. “These are important marriage secrets that should be handed down woman to woman like in the tribes of old.”

Ava thought about the question. “It's different from how it was at the beginning, but I'm most certainly still in love with him. It's more than just . . . exciting and heart racing.”

“Do you miss that?”

Ava smiled. “Sure, in a way. And there are moments when it comes back. But the steadiness is even better. Settling in and knowing your best friend is always with you, that you have one another for life . . . that's a pretty incredible thing. And though the beginning of a relationship can have a lot of passion, there's a lot of fear too.”

“Yes, that's true.”

“What are you worrying about?” Ava asked.

Sienna shook her head wildly and said with drama, “Absolutely nothing! I'm going to enjoy the moment. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do, Mama?”

Ava laughed and let all seriousness go. “You better believe it.”

Soon the announcer started in, giving the players' names and numbers and announcing a raffle.

Dane returned with his arms laden with food and a teetering drink carrier.

“I haven't had these in far too long,” Sienna said, taking a tortilla chip covered in nacho sauce and chopped jalapeños.

“This is the first time this season I've eaten a pretzel,” Ava said as they tapped a piece of mustard-slathered pretzel to nacho chip in a food toast. Ava had put the household on a health kick for the past year after Dane's blood pressure was high and Doc threatened medication. He was still a big meat-and-potato man at heart, but he'd adapted to more chicken, salads, and a few vegetarian dishes.

“I shouldn't be having this with the wedding coming.” Sienna cradled the large nachos on her lap, piled with chili, jalapeños, olives, and salsa. “What's the nacho cheese made of anyway?”

“I don't think it's cheese, but right now, you don't want to know. Just enjoy.”

“Something interesting happened,” Dane said after settling back into his seat and pulling his attention away from his phone.

“What?”

“Hey, Dane, how's it going?” Ava looked up at Peter Riley, another team parent. Dane shook the man's hand and greeted him.

“It's great you guys are here. Way to show your support.” The way he said it sounded odd.

Dane gave a quizzical expression. “Why wouldn't we be here?”

“Exactly. That's the attitude!” Pete said and tipped his hat to Ava. He headed up the stairs toward where his wife was warming up her cowbell at every name that was announced.

“That was weird,” Dane said. “We're here every Friday night. Rico Rodriquez said something similar when I was down getting food. Jason didn't get hurt, did he?”

“I'm sure we'd know. Maybe it's because you missed that scrimmage a few weeks ago?”

Dane's jaw clenched. “Yeah, that's right. I missed a practice game so I'm an awful parent.”

Ava put her arm on Dane's arm. “Don't let him get to you. Rico hasn't worked in a year, so maybe that's his way of feeling better about himself.”

Dane simmered, seeming to consider the thought. They chatted and ate their food as the game finally got underway.

Jason sat on the sidelines. He'd been first string the entire season. Dane mentioned that perhaps the coach was trying something new. Dane always supported the coaches whether they played Jason or not, unlike many of the parents who seemed to think they were assistants to the coaches.

At half-time the team was behind. Jason was one of their best players, yet he remained benched. Before the team disappeared into the locker room, Ava saw Jason turn to study the bleachers as if searching for them. He held his helmet under his arm, and the expression on his face read sheer frustration. Ava wanted to rush down and find out exactly what was going on. Suddenly she understood those pushy parents much better.

The next two quarters continued the Wolves' downward spiral as the Hawks scored two more touchdowns and a field goal.

The final buzzer rang with the crowd grumbling, one man yelling toward the referee, and a cowbell tossed onto the field.

“We could've used your kid tonight,” a man shouted as he walked down the middle stairway.

“I know it,” Dane said, shaking his head.

“I can't believe they didn't play him,” Sienna said, disappointed.

The crowd dispersed while they hung back in the bleachers until it was pocketed with groups of parents waiting for their sons on the team.

Ava caught a few parents' remarks that made it sound like it was Jason's fault or their family's that the coach didn't play him.

“Hey, Mr. Duke,” Sienna said, waving at an older man standing on the sidelines with his hands shoved deep into his football jacket.

“Sienna, well, well!” Mr. Duke called back, walking toward the bleachers. He'd been one of Sienna's favorite teachers— history, Ava recalled—and assisted on the football team. “What are you up to?”

“Came out for a visit and to watch my brother play, but what happened out there? My brother could've been an asset tonight.”

Mr. Duke lifted his ball cap up and down on his head. “That's not the coaches' fault. We needed him. He's let the whole team down.”

“He . . . what are you talking about?”

Ava noticed two of the other mothers in the bleachers suddenly lean in to whisper something to one another. She looked at Dane, then at Mr. Duke, who now looked as confused as they did.

Mr. Duke walked the distance separating them at the railing. He glanced around, but the coaches and players had all disappeared into the locker room.

“Coach Ray didn't reach you?” He said this to Dane, then glanced at Ava with a concerned expression on his face.

“I have about fifteen messages on my phone right now,” Dane said, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it. “I was in meetings all day and evening.”

“Oh,” Mr. Duke muttered. “Think you better talk to him or Jason—or both, for that matter.”

Dane glanced at Ava as if she might know what was happening.

“What's going on?” Ava asked more to Dane than to Mr. Duke.

“Oh.” Dane turned the phone toward her.

“What is it?”

“A text from our son. It says that he's suspended from the game.”

“Why?” Sienna and Ava asked at the same time. They all looked at Mr. Duke, and Ava felt a sudden anger that Dane hadn't seen the text earlier because he was wrapped up in his work again.

“I'm not sure I'm the one to discuss this.”

“Just tell us, please,” Sienna pleaded.

Mr. Duke rubbed the gray stubble on his chin. “This afternoon Jason was chosen for a random drug test. Sorry to say, he failed it.”

Nine

T
HE DAY OF HER FATHER'S ARREST, AVA SMOKED HER FIRST CIGA
-rette to save her brother from a beating.

She didn't want to smoke. And her brother didn't want to be saved, especially by his big sister. Clancy was in a fight every other day it seemed. But when she came around the corner of Jem's Frosty to the view of her brother surrounded by Doug Bell and his cronies, Ava knew Clancy had bitten off more than he could chew.

Doug Bell had a crush on her and it was years in the making. In elementary school he called her names, chased her on the playground, and slipped a Snoopy Valentine into her bag that professed his love, except he didn't sign it. Ava figured out her secret admirer when she saw him staring at her. In high school, his teasing continued, and rumor had it he'd beat up anyone who planned to ask her to prom.

Did Doug think she'd be endeared to him with his harassment of her brother? Doug wasn't the smartest kid in school, though he knew enough to put to use his skills in physical manipulation and all-around terror.

When Doug spotted Ava, his demeanor changed. He took a step back, unclenching his fists, and his grin turned like a light switch from menacing to sheepish.

“Hey, Ava,” he said, taking a step back. Clancy was poised, ready to pounce.

“Hi, Doug. Clancy, I was looking for you. Could you help me with something at home?”

“What do you need help with?” Doug asked.

“The desk in my room has a broken leg on it.” Ava was making this up as she went.

“I'll do it,” Doug said with an excitement that made her shiver.

“No guys allowed in my room, but thank you, Doug.” She walked toward him, trying to act all feminine and sweet.

“Want a smoke?” he asked, pulling out a mangled pack of Camels from his back pocket.

Ava hesitated, glanced at her brother in his ready-for-battle glare, and then closed the distance and reached for a cigarette.

BOOK: Song of the Brokenhearted
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