Song of the Brokenhearted

by Sheila Walsh

  Ava wished she could crack his closed expression or force him to open up.

  “I guess,” she muttered, and off he went.

  Fourteen

  AVA LEANED IN TOWARD HER VANITY MIRROR, TOUCHING HER finger along the slight lines below her eye. They appeared more pronounced lately, accentuated by the faint bluish shade that always gave away restless sleep.

  She stared at the face in the mirror. Ava had always thought her cheekbones were too pronounced for the roundness of her face, and her grandmother said she looked like a doe with her large eyes and narrow face.

  It surprised her when men started treating her differently in her early teens. Daddy and her grandmother wouldn’t let her wear makeup or jeans; it was dresses only. Daddy went to prison and she decided to do what she wanted. Then she spent every tip she earned waitressing after school at the diner on jeans, makeup, and trips to the small beauty shop in town. Grandmother said she was a vain tramp and that men only liked her because she dressed like a harlot.

  In California Aunt Jenny told her she was beautiful with or without makeup. She showed her how to use blush to accen tuate her cheekbones and eye shadow to bring out her eyes. Ava lived in San Francisco for five years, going to college, working at Nordstrom, and discovering a world beyond Texas. Aunt Jenny said she transformed into a lady during those years. Grannie wrote her letters about her backsliding ways. Clancy had joined the military, Daddy was sitting in prison, and Mama was in the grave. They were a family that would never exist again.

  Even now after so many years of luxury, Ava could see her face transform into a wild child with matted hair or the teenager putting on too much blue eye shadow.

  Ava pulled her hair into a short ponytail and slipped into her designer sweats and jacket. There was a slight chip in one of her nails, and she had just enough time to get it fixed before picking up Dane’s tux from the cleaners.

  She touched the silver Vera Wang dress that Kayanne insisted she buy for tonight’s charity event, exclaiming that if she had curves like Ava, her search for a man would be over. The dress did hug her hips, which twenty years earlier might have been nice to display except that curves weren’t popular then. Now that they were, Ava felt too old to be wearing a form-fitting gown. She’d pulled a less flashy black dress as a backup and hung it up beside the silver—she’d decide tonight which to wear.

  Ava rushed down the stairs, enjoying the fresh scent. Martina had been in today. Ava loved Martina days, when the house was even cleaner than usual, dinner was popped into the oven, and the laundry was actually put in everyone’s drawers instead of folded on the laundry room table.

  Ava grabbed her keys, chiding herself for spending too much time thinking and not getting going. What did reflection accomplish anyway?

  The sound of the garage door stopped her. She walked toward the garage, but the door opened before she reached it.

  Dane jumped when he saw her.

  “What are you doing here? This is a surprise,” she said. He’d left for the office early, promising to be home in time for the ball.

  “Yes, it is a surprise.” Dane’s voice sounded weary.

  “What’s going on?” She kissed his cheek, noticing how his deep lines and dark circles were much more pronounced than her own.

  He took in the bag on her shoulder and keys in hand. “You’re on your way out. When will you be home?”

  “Few hours. Just errands—nails and dry cleaners.”

  “We’ll talk when you get back.”

  “You remember it’s the Charity Ball.”

  He chuckled and muttered, “Of course it is.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m sorry. Nothing. We’ll talk after the Charity Ball then.”

  Warning flags waved in her head.

  “Is it about us?” she asked, following Dane as he walked down the hall and turned into the den.

  “It’s about us,” Dane said solemnly, dropping his messenger bag on the desk. He looked up then, seeing her face, and his expression changed. “No, not about us, as in our relationship. Nothing like that. I need to make some calls, but don’t worry. It’ll be all right.”

  Don’t worry. Everything is going to be all right. How often she’d heard her father say that, all through his trial, and even into the first years of his conviction. And Dane often assured her with such words—he’d been saying them for years—but in his case, everything had turned out all right.

  “Is it the company?”

  Dane nodded. “Always the company. There will be some allegations against it. They aren’t true, but in this day and age, you have to prove your innocence. We’re being investigated. The company is on the verge of crumbling, and out of nowhere, we’re being investigated for securities fraud.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s going to affect us. We need to talk about it.”

  “So . . . what does this mean?” Ava realized this wasn’t being processed in her brain at all. It felt like she was talking about someone else.

  “It will take a few days or weeks to know for sure.” Dane cleared his throat and sighed. He sat down in his favorite leather recliner in the corner of the room, closing his eyes. Dane didn’t rest when things went wrong, he fought back. This sight sent flutters of fear through her.

  “I don’t want you to be late for your nail appointment,” Dane said with his eyes closed, then he opened them. “But don’t use the American Express card when you pay.”

  “Okay,” she said, standing in the doorway wondering if she should really leave.

  “I just need a little sleep.”

  “Of course,” she said, gathering a blanket that was draped over the leather couch on the opposite wall.

  She closed the door behind her, but Ava set down her purse and sent a text to her manicurist, canceling her appointment. She fixed herself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table.

  Words assaulted her from a voice much like her grandmother’s. You’ve been acting all high and mighty. Now you face the very hard fall. In the first years after the old woman’s death, Ava was haunted by them. Grannie saw the devil in nearly any misfortune since he was always trying to destroy them. She’d often exclaim that the world was getting so bad, Jesus was going to return soon.

  As she fixed an early lunch for Dane, she told herself that everything was going to be fine. She prayed it as well. God had taken care of her through much worse than a financial glitch. Dane emerged from the den, rubbing his eyes.

  “I forgot to ask if you talked to Sienna this morning?”

  “No, why?” she asked as she sliced homemade bread for his sandwich.

  “Did you know she and Preston were having so many problems?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Their daughter often called her father when debating a big decision, then Ava would be the second call. She didn’t mind, even loved the idea of her daughter having a strong male force in her life. What would that have been like to have a father to talk to, especially as a young woman?

  Dane studied her face. “So you don’t know? Sienna called off the wedding.”

  Fifteen

  YOUR TIMING IS IMPECCABLE, AVA NEARLY MUTTERED AS DANE drove them into downtown Dallas for the Children’s Charity Ball. The high-rise buildings shimmered with light and glass brighter than she remembered.

  They’d driven in silence with Ava trying to find a viable excuse to not attend the event. Her hands clenched together to keep them from shaking and to keep herself from bursting into tears before they arrived. Her phone sat on her lap in anticipation of Sienna’s return call. Ava’s calls went unanswered, but Sienna had sent a text saying she was talking with Preston and would call them when she could. Ava prayed their talk would turn this around. What was her daughter thinking?

  “How bad is all of this? I really want to know the truth,” Ava said, turning toward Dane. The dashboard lights illuminated Dane’s strong chin and neckline. She hadn’t realized how attractive he looked to
night.

  “Sienna hasn’t been sure about this marriage for a long time. I liked the guy a lot, but I’m not marrying him.”

  “I was asking about your company.”

  Dane pulled in front of the Hyatt Regency. “The company. That’s better discussed later.”

  The valet trotted up to the car, waiting for them to emerge.

  “I think I want to know now.”

  He took her hand, studying her face a moment. “It’s pretty bad.”

  She stared into his dark eyes, wondering what he was thinking. Dane released her hand and rose from the car. He gave the keys to the valet and walked around the car, then opened her door and reached again for her hand. Ava felt the strength in his fingers as he gently led her out.

  “Let’s enjoy tonight and talk later at home.”

  Ava squeezed his hand, making him stop as the antique light posts along the entrance blurred momentarily. “Tell me now.”

  He spoke, and Ava only heard bits and pieces. “Investigation. Freezing assets. Investors pulling out, allegations of . . .”

  His words turned to gum in her head. Ava had never understood the financial world. Dane explained it off and on, but he could see her eyes glaze over. He said something about failed mergers and insider trading, but she couldn’t get off of the thought, What are we going to do?

  As more arrivals came up behind them, Ava became aware that they were standing outside in what must have appeared a very intense conversation. “All your investments are gone?”

  “Personal investments have been for a while now, but the company investments—I’m hoping we’ll salvage the company and the market will come back, or . . .”

  “Or what?” she asked as Dane led her toward the entrance of the hotel.

  “Or the company goes under and I look for a job, though probably not in Dallas.”

  Ava stopped again. “We’d move from Dallas?”

  “That or I’d commute. The east and west coasts have always been better for my line of work, you know that.”

  They stepped inside the luxurious entrance. The sound of people talking and laughing in the crowded ballrooms reminded Ava of crows squawking from a telephone wire.

  Let me just paste on my smile and pretend our life isn’t imploding around me.

  “We can’t bid on anything,” Dane said with such a deeply apologetic look that her heart ached for him.

  “Oh, of course. I expected that.” Ava reached out her hand and touched his face, trying to reassure him. She had been making this about herself, not considering how painful and humiliating it must be for her husband.

  Dane had three rules in life: be a man of integrity, provide well for his family, and build close ties with his wife and children. Ava had told him that something about God should be first on that list, but he said God was a given, not a mission statement. Now that he’d been praying for the company, Ava wondered if his faith was shaken by the outcome.

  Before familiar faces surrounded them, Ava tugged on his hand and led him away from the hall where the main ballroom was located.

  Ava said with more strength than she felt, “I know we will get through this. Just please don’t tell anyone tonight.”

  Dane nodded and Ava caught a quick flash of worry in the clench of his jaw. “It’ll be known by Monday. The papers got it.”

  Ava took a deep breath and bit the edge of her lip. “The papers? Really?”

  “It’s news, especially in Dallas.”

  “Well then, tonight we should dance a bit. Let’s enjoy it, okay?” she said, wondering if she could actually dance to this tune. Dallas society wasn’t an easy contender. The women of the city could bind together in a crisis, or they could tear someone apart when scandal was revealed. Ava straightened the sleeve of her black dress. Perhaps God was teaching her not to care what anyone thought . . . or it might be much more than that.

  “And to think I planned to bid on that ten-carat diamond bracelet,” Ava said with a laugh.

  “We can. But it might be embarrassing when our credit card isn’t accepted.”

  Ava swallowed hard even as she snickered at his joke. The reality was setting in, breaking out beads of sweat down her back.

  “Can’t we go home and pretend that we’re sick?”

  He gave her a sad expression. “We can do whatever you need to do. I’ve been trying to protect you from this, and what happens, I drop the bomb on you during one of the most inappropriate times. I know these events are already stressful enough for you.”

  Ava appreciated the sentiment, but it didn’t ease her tangled emotions. “We’re already here, and I did force you into telling me.”

  “We can leave,” Dane said, looking deeply into her eyes.

  “I can hold my head up high. After all, I have the most handsome husband in all of Dallas,” she said with gusto.

  They stepped back into the hallway and toward the ballroom. A photographer snapped pictures as if the attendees were movie stars. Dane walked with his hand pressed against Ava’s back, which provided a surprising amount of strength.

  Ava took shallow breaths as she tried to remember what this night was about. Tammy Blake had worked on this event for a year with Ava meeting with her monthly to offer advice and ideas. After her young son’s death from a rare genetic disease, Tammy had turned her energies toward helping other families whose children were suffering. The ball was her first gala event.

  “I’m impressed,” Dane said, drawing her closer as they entered the ballroom. The elegant décor was layered with reminders of childhood. The tables sparkled with china dinnerware and centerpieces, and each setting had a card with a child’s picture and the story of their dreams as well as a short description of his or her illness.

  “I’m so proud of her,” Ava said, spotting Tammy leaned in toward a hotel staffer with an intense expression on her face.

  At the far end of the ballroom was the dance floor and stage with instruments propped up on stands awaiting the musicians to bring them to life.

  As Ava and Dane took in the ball, they greeted familiar faces, and Ava tried to cling to his hand and stay joined together. But they were soon separated as Dane was pulled away by a group of men he’d met at a golf tournament, and Ava turned to a tap on her arm, then the careful hug of a longtime friend.

  “You look amazing as usual,” Jean said, looking up and down at Ava’s black dress. Ava thanked her and complimented her gown, which sparkled with sequins much too daring for Ava’s taste. She enjoyed how Jean was bold in that way. In her early sixties, the woman stood out with her flashy everything: car, purse, clothing, giant belt buckles with tight jeans. Her hair was always twice the size of her head, even when pulled into a bun.

  Once, when they’d roomed together at a women’s conference, Jean had tried brightening Ava up with bold red lipstick and sparkling jewelry. Ava felt like a Christmas tree and had to tone it back, despite Jean’s disappointment. But Jean could pull it off. Her entire demeanor flashed with style and personality that people said was the epitome of a rich Texas trophy wife.

  “How’s our girl Sienna and that wedding planning?”

  Ava glanced toward Dane as if seeking a life preserver.

  “She came for a visit last weekend. She’s doing well.”

  “And she’ll get back to Dallas once they’re married, correct?”

  Ava wanted to avoid lying, but she hadn’t spoken to her daughter about the breakup yet, and she certainly wasn’t letting the news loose in this room until she knew the details.

  “Oh perfect, I’d hoped we would see one another here,” Corrine George said to Ava, bustling up to them in her floor-length gown that rustled as she walked. “Hello, Jean,” Corrine said coolly.

  Ava realized she’d never responded to Corrine’s e-mail about the direction of Broken Hearts.

  Jean looked at Corrine with distaste, ignoring her greeting. “I’ll talk to you a little later, Ava. I believe we’re sitting at the same table.”

  �
��I declare, Ava,” Corrine said as Jean walked away, “you seem to surround yourself with people who surely won’t be like iron sharpening iron.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ava said, staring at the woman. Corrine would be almost pretty if she didn’t have a near constant scowl on her face.

  “That woman cheated on her first husband with the man she’s married to now.”

  “They’ve been married for twenty-something years, and it’s none of my business, Corrine.”

  “It is your business who you have in your life.”

  Ava sighed, searching for Dane and a way out of this conversation. Sometimes it surprised Ava that she was involved with church and other Christians to the extent that she was. After a childhood of religious constraint and domination, she sometimes reexamined her reasons behind her involvement and the core of her faith. Why should she believe? Why should she subject herself to the multilayered complexities found in any church?

  Her faith came down to trusting and seeking God, and the belief in Him she’d found outside of what her childhood had told her about God. She wanted to know the real God, not the one forced down her throat in childhood. What surprised Ava most was that her love for other Christians had returned. As a child she’d loved the people in her daddy’s congregation. And flawed as they were, Ava often was warmed by the love that overtook her as she heard the stories and tried comforting the tears of people who wanted to truly know who God was.

  But the people who acted like Pharisees, who reminded her of her grandmother, those were the hardest for her. Corrine was a thorn in her side, but Ava tried to be patient. There was some kind of pain or fear that was the engine running Corrine’s attitude. If Christ loved this woman as much as He loved all the rest of them, shouldn’t Ava try harder as well?

  “Did you receive my e-mail?” Corrine asked with a smile.

  “I did. We’ll have to talk about it soon—I had my daughter visiting recently and this week has been quite busy.”

  “I was sorry to hear about your son,” she said, and Ava’s stomach clenched.