Song of the Brokenhearted

by Sheila Walsh

  She baked a homemade macaroni-and-cheese dish, a corn casserole, and a lemon torte. The sun filtered through angry rain clouds outside. The trees appeared barren in the backyard this time of year with only a few leafy stragglers dangling on to autumn. Her willow was among them, but Ava didn’t see the harm of a dead tree among the dormant ones. They appeared the same, at least for now.

  Dane slept while she showered and got ready. He and Jason had stayed up late watching old Westerns. Ava had watched them from the doorway before going to bed. She told herself it was good that this financial disaster had given Dane more time with Jason, but another part of her couldn’t swallow the bitterness of that thought.

  She was packing up the casserole dishes in her food travel bag when she heard footsteps down the stairs.

  “You’re going somewhere this morning? I was hoping we could talk.” Dane rubbed his eyes as he walked to the cupboard for a coffee cup.

  “It’s after nine,” she said with a bite in her tone.

  “It felt good to sleep.”

  “I’m sure it does.” Some of us still have a life, she wanted to spout.

  Dane wrapped his arms around her waist, and Ava thought of how her dress might wrinkle.

  “Why don’t I carry out your casseroles? I’ll do anything you want to put you into a happy mood.”

  “I’m late, that’s all.”

  “You, late? I don’t believe you.”

  Ava ground the back of her teeth when she saw the clock, and she felt a sudden rush of anger sting through her veins. For months now Dane had rushed out the door no matter what was happening to deal with his work, but now he popped awake and wanted to talk to her? He had no respect for her schedule or what she was doing. For that matter, she suddenly thought over how supportive he was of her ministry. He acted proud, but in the way he acted over something cute the kids had done, like making a macaroni necklace. Did he realize how grateful the families were that they helped? Did he care that what she did with the ministry really mattered?

  “What do you want to talk about?” She picked up the casserole dish with two hands.

  Dane took the dish from her and carried it to her car as she gathered up her purse. He returned for the other dishes.

  “We can talk later,” he said after the car was packed.

  “What are you doing today?” she asked, her anger softening despite how she tried to cling to it.

  He shrugged.

  “You could go for a ride or golf?” Ava wished for some remnant of her over-achieving husband to return.

  “I don’t feel like either. I might organize the garage or see what Pastor Randy is up to today.”

  “Those are good, yeah, maybe do both,” Ava said, feeling like she was talking to Jason instead of Mr. Driven himself.

  He’d cooked dinner.

  Ava stared at the sight of Dane at the stove with ingredients covering the counter. The stove sizzled with strip steak in a wine sauce and water boiled for pasta.

  “What is this?”

  “A surprise for my wife.”

  “Where’s Jason?

  “I gave him a free pass, but to youth group only.”

  “Why? Are we okay?” Ava asked in a softer tone.

  “I hope so. First of all, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said yesterday. I really wouldn’t be happy living in the wilds of Alaska—you and the kids mean everything to me. Come here,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

  Ava resisted momentarily, striving to cling to her anger. But it slid away faster than she could hold it in.

  “What do you think of Jason and me going on that church trip?”

  Ava leaned back and studied his face.

  “Jason told me you had mentioned it, but I assumed you weren’t going.”

  “I’ve been missing something.”

  “What?” Ava leaned in. Was he discontent with their life?

  Was he wanting more?

  Dane’s eyebrows seemed pained at the thought. “I don’t know. I’ve been so busy building a company that I don’t even own now. But something’s not right.”

  Ava didn’t know how to give Dane room to sort this out.

  She worked within the parameters of Dane’s and the kids’ lives.

  She should be thankful. Maybe her husband would start seeking more of God. So why wouldn’t this worry settle?

  “You do work that is important. You change lives. I want to do something like that. I’m really proud of you.”

  Ava bit the edge of her lip and tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you for saying that.”

  “I don’t give you enough credit, but there’s something else too. I want us to be closer.”

  “You don’t think we’re close?”

  “Do you think you hold something back from me?”

  “What are you talking about?” Ava said with a chuckle.

  “There are things about you that I still don’t know. I get surprised by them, and I don’t realize what they mean. Like how important that willow tree was to you. I knew you liked it, but it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

  Ava nodded with her head against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat and the echo of his words in his chest.

  “So why don’t you let me and the kids into the reasons and into your childhood. You’re a shoulder to so many people, helping to pick up the pieces all the time. You’re extremely loving and generous.”

  Ava moved away from Dane now. She sat on a bar stool as he hurried to stir the pasta. “Get to the heart of this, without all the compliments. What are you trying to say?”

  “I want you to give us all of your heart.”

  Ava had the growing sense that her entire life had been a lie. Or perhaps not a total lie, just a movie playing out behind a fuzzy screen and Ava was wearing 3-D glasses even though the movie wasn’t in 3-D.

  God, is this true? Have I reserved myself from my family? Avoided risking my heart by loving them too deeply or sharing with them?

  Dane ran a finger along his eyebrows.

  “I’m not explaining this perfectly. But it’s as if you keep a very thin covering between us.”

  “Between who?”

  “You and me. You and the kids. You and everyone else, for that matter.”

  “I’ve devoted my entire life to all of you. How could you say this? You make me sound so cold and empty.”

  Dane reached for her arm, but Ava pulled away.

  “That’s not how I meant it. I want to see you fully let go of that wall you’ve built up.”

  Ava stood up, knocking her purse off the edge of the counter.

  “I can’t believe you’re telling me this. First you tell me I’ve kept you from doing what you really wanted with your life. And now, after all these years, you don’t feel loved by me. You feel like I’m distant from you and the kids.”

  “That’s not all the way true. This is the life I wanted, and I shouldn’t have said that. It’s been hard lately, stopping suddenly and taking inventory of where we’ve come. And you love us greatly. But you have parts of yourself that you seem afraid to let us see. You’ve never told the kids much about your family or childhood. You’ve told me only pieces. You won’t let us be part of what you’ve gone through.”

  Something in his words rang true to her, though Ava fought to deny it to herself.

  Dane kissed her on her forehead. “Listen, I love you. I’m not going anywhere—well, except for a youth camping trip, but other than that, I’m not going anywhere. This is our chance to build something even better than what we’ve had. We’ve had money. We’ve had trips and possessions and have provided for many others. We’ve been able to support people who needed help. Now it’s time to see what God has for us. Sometimes losing everything is the perfect way to start something better.”

  Ava pulled away and hurried up the stairs to their room. She didn’t want to lose everything. She didn’t want to have a new start or to build something different. What was wrong with the life
they’d had? And how could she ever open doorways inside of her that had closed long ago?

  Twenty

  THURSDAY MORNING, DANE AND JASON WAVED OUT THEIR CAR windows as they drove down the driveway. Ava watched them leave, waving in return, then turned back toward the house. With several days alone, she wondered where she’d start— either deep cleaning the house or working on the yard. With their finances in crisis, Leo and Martina were luxuries that had to go. Dane had given them each two month’s extra pay when telling them that he didn’t know how long till he could hire them back.

  Every time she saw Dane pull out cash from the safe in the den, her heart raced. At some point it was going to be gone. They had utilities to pay, fuel, food, and the holidays looming ahead. It was just over a month till Thanksgiving, and Ava was usually clicking away at online Christmas shopping by now. She liked to have her presents purchased and wrapped when they brought home the tree Thanksgiving weekend.

  Now Dane was gone with the promise that he’d do something about their finances—maybe put the house on the market—as soon as he returned from the father-son trip.

  Ava walked through the quiet rooms of the house, from the downstairs to the upstairs.

  The rooms and walkways felt hollow without the family moving through them. Jason would be leaving in a few years for college, and the house was large for only two people. It didn’t feel overly spacious with the many kids so often staying over. But with Jason’s departure, they’d be leaving as well. Dane and Ava had talked about downsizing when the kids had left, or moving to something on a golf course for Dane’s pleasure or with a view of water for Ava’s.

  Now they might not have a choice. The house might not be theirs to decide upon.

  She pictured them moving out and the neighbors asking where they were going. The auction papers taped to the front door. Ava had seen other realtor signs stuck into the dry lawns with “foreclosure” stamped across the top. She’d felt empathy for those families. She’d handed out advice to several women about how to hold their heads up high, and if they’d tried all they could, then they hadn’t done anything wrong. God would repay what the locusts had eaten. She hadn’t used quite that cliché of a comeback, but now that she was the one facing the chopping block, she realized just how deep the humiliation ran.

  And this wouldn’t be her house. Someone else would have favorite places like the sunken tub, the window seat in Sienna’s room, the organized shelves in the pantry, the patio barbecue and fire pit, and the bench beside a dead willow tree. Another woman would cook in the kitchen, other children would swim in the pool, and a different man would place his tools on the workbench.

  Dane said he was doing everything he could for them to remain in the house. But in that quiet place, Ava knew God was telling her to let it go. That her home wasn’t here, that her family wasn’t made up of a place, and that she needed to release everything into His hands.

  The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed is the name of the Lord.

  It was easier said than done. Ava wanted to hang on to everything they possessed. She didn’t want to let it go. She didn’t want to go back. Losing everything couldn’t help feel like failure. And possessions provided a security she hadn’t known as a child. She didn’t know how to live like that again.

  Ava ignored her phone calls that day. She might be depressed, but she needed the quiet, only texting Kayanne and Sienna to tell them she was enjoying the time alone and asking them not to worry.

  The cold on her bare feet brought Ava fully from her sleep. As she realized where she stood, Ava took in the leaves of the willow tree and how they drooped.

  I’m here again.

  She was in her pajamas beneath a cold harvest moon. And she’d been dreaming, or remembering, Ava couldn’t be sure which. She hadn’t sleepwalked since childhood, and even now she wasn’t sure if she’d meant to walk out here or not.

  Soft light glowed along the backyard pathways and around the covered pool from the small solar path lights. The moon, too, reflected down, casting a hazy light.

  She shivered and knew she should go back inside. Dane and Jason were gone, and being outside in the middle of the night was not a good idea. Yet her feet wouldn’t move, cold as they were. She hadn’t been sleepwalking, but she’d come out here in a kind of a trance as if the moon or the tree had called to her, lulled her out to a past she’d closed the book on and set up on a very high shelf. But the book wanted to be revisited, and this dream played itself out.

  A girl had run through the grass beneath the moonlight. She ran with tears stinging her eyes, but the farther she ran down the dirt road away from the house, the more free she felt.

  The soles of her feet were hard and calloused from a life playing outdoors without shoes. She’d be in school soon where shoes were required, and her cousins said no one was going to like a wild girl like her. Ava would surprise them, she’d planned, but for now, she could be free for just a little while longer.

  She ran to the willow trees that lined the Black Rock River. She could see the shape of them silhouetted against the moon-filled sky.

  A car flew down the road, lights bouncing. Ava lowered herself down against the trunk of the tree, not even bothering to duck behind it. The strands of willow limbs and leaves cascaded like a beaded curtain around her. They wouldn’t see her here.

  Aunt Lorena screeched out her name, head half out the window as her man of the week drove the car. Ava wanted her mommy, but Aunt Lorena said she wasn’t ever coming back.

  Daddy didn’t come to the funeral, though people came out to the house with their edible offerings and black clothing that reminded Ava of the black crows who gathered at the fence and stared with small, knowing eyes. He didn’t officiate over the bodies of his ex-wife or her lover. Instead he barred himself inside his room during the first days after news of the car accident.

  While Ava sat beneath a table covered in food, she overheard Aunt Lorena say, “That ungrateful whore got her just desserts.”

  And so she’d run to the willows. She hid when Aunt Lorena tried to find her. She heard her aunt’s panicked voice say, “We have to find the little witch before Danny finds out. I promised I’d keep an eye on the kids.”

  Ava spent the night of her mother’s funeral beneath the willows. She thought of her mother’s perfume and the silk of her slip that she wore while doing her hair and putting on makeup. The night didn’t stretch out long enough for Ava to get rid of the missing.

  Clancy led them to her in the early morning light. Grannie and her aunts and uncles stared at her, ready to give her a beating, but Daddy carried her cradled against his chest as they held back like pit bulls on a chain. He set her down onto her bed and covered her dirty feet and scratched-up legs with the patchwork quilt.

  After that day, Daddy split his time between the farm and an immaculate apartment in town. With Ava’s mother dead, her daddy couldn’t raise two kids on his own, so he shared them with his mother-in-law in a kind of ignorance that Ava would forever resent. Could he not see the raised marks that regularly covered their legs and back from the switch that hung next to Grannie’s favorite chair?

  A lady washed and pressed Daddy’s clothes and the fancy set he kept for them. On weekends, they changed into the town clothes when they first arrived.

  Being with Daddy meant church, usually all weekend. There were tent revivals and visiting evangelists. There were potlucks and socials. There were youth nights and kids' clubs and baptisms down by the river.

  Daddy wore his pin that said "Rev. Daniel Henderson". He checked their faces, smoothed their hair, and at church, he cried while sharing how happy he was to have his children on the pew that week. He’d put his hand in the air and the church members would too, shouting and praising Jesus. Ava would look at the gleam of pride in Clancy’s eye and wonder if her face showed a similar shine as well.

  The crickets filled the night with a loud chorus of song. The frogs joined in, though they could never get the
rhythm despite how they tried. The river lapped the soft shoreline, and sometimes the fireflies dotted the tops of the tall grasses and Ava put out her hand for one to land.

  Ava’s eyes focused on her backyard in Dallas that was decades beyond the memories. The immaculate landscaping. A pool house and pool like nothing she’d seen as a child. Once she and her brother, Clancy, had pressed their faces against a wooden fence where a knot had broken out. They could see the pool of the wealthiest family in town. The kids laughed and dove off the diving board, and it might as well have been Disneyland to the two of them—just one more place they’d never go.

  Ava lived a life unlike any she’d dreamed of as that little girl. That little girl didn’t know such a world existed.

  She sometimes feared it was all made of paper, and any storm or fire or fist of God might smash it all to nothing. Perhaps He was doing just that after giving her too long a blessing, too long a time of feasting. No, no, no, she whispered, fighting the pull of the past.

  Ava squeezed her arms tightly against her chest. A lone car traveled the suburban neighborhood. Tires against pavement, not gravel and dirt like the roads of her youth.

  Every time she came to the tree, Ava couldn’t escape her childhood. It was the safe place she’d run to in her past, and she didn’t need it anymore.

  Ava walked to the tool shed and opened the door. The automatic light switched on, and Ava spotted the ax hooked to a shelf.

  She carried it back down the path and paused for a moment longer, gazing up at the drooping branches.

  She swung hard and hit the trunk. The ax stuck into the wood, and Ava had to fight to pull it out. She swung again, and again.

  Taking a breath, Ava could see the marks in the trunk like deep nicks in the wood. The trunk was less than a foot in diameter. She could do this, she told herself with her arms already aching.

  It took half the night and hands covered in blisters and a close call when the tilting trunk nearly crushed her, but before dawn rose over the eastern sky, Ava’s tree was on the ground.