Song of the Brokenhearted by Sheila Walsh

It sounded strange hearing her daughter say that. Her children didn’t fully know what bad childhood meant.
    â€œBut there was something special there, like he was my home—my real home.” Ava smiled and sighed deeply.
    â€œIs that how you knew?”
    Ava could see that her daughter needed the truth, not the rosy, fairy-tale version.
    â€œI had doubts all along the way. I don’t know if that’s normal though.”
    â€œWhat were the doubts about?”
    â€œI guess with my . . . background, I had a lot of distrust from when I was young. I sometimes revert back to looking for the bad in people instead of the good.”
    â€œReally? Why?”
    â€œMaybe to protect myself, until I find out what I’m dealing with.”
    Sienna nodded in thought. “You’re always so nice to people.
    I didn’t know that about you.”
    Ava kicked off her slippers and sat on the opposite chair.
    â€œWhat are your doubts?”
    â€œJust normal stuff, usual pre-wedding jitters. Pledging myself to someone for life is a big deal.” Sienna chuckled, but there was fear in her eyes.
    Ava bit the edge of her lip. “Is he treating you well?”
    â€œPreston? Of course. He treats me too good, I think,” Sienna said with a small laugh. “It’s nothing like that.”
    â€œThen what it is?” Ava’s heart started beating faster, but she tried to remain calm in her daughter’s presence. Her mind was already running a track of worrisome thoughts: was she pregnant, had she met someone else, were they having second thoughts?
    â€œI just need to pray more,” Sienna said and sighed deeply, the usual sign that she was about to open up. Then her pink phone buzzed on the arm of the chair.
    â€œIt’s Preston, finally,” Sienna said as if apologizing.
    â€œIt’s all right. Talk to him.”
    â€œI sort of need to. But thanks, Mom. By the way, I was out back, and the weeping willow doesn’t look too good.”
    Ava felt her heart shudder as if she’d forgotten something essential. The tree’s demise felt oddly important. Was it just her old superstitions trying to flare their ugly heads, or was God trying to get her attention?
    When Sienna returned there were no signs that anything was different. Her daughter had never been an open book, unlike Jason, who still told her everything, even when it got him into trouble.
    Ava hoped there would be a way to talk about her concerns. Time before the wedding was quickly running out.

Eight
    T HE PARKING LOT WAS OVER HALF FULL AS THEY PULLED IN EARLY , just like every Friday night. Even with Dane’s schedule, he hadn’t missed a game, either at home or away. On Friday evening, half the community showed up to watch the rumble on the green with numerous businesses shutting down for the night or bringing their goodies into the stadium grounds in booths. The rich scent of barbecue filled the air as several groups gathered around tailgates where mini-grills smoked with sizzling steaks and burgers.
    Dane ran a few steps ahead and turned suddenly with his cell phone pointed at them.
    â€œI need a picture of my beautiful gals.”
    Sienna slid her arm around Ava’s waist as they posed for the photo. Ava wore her favorite jeans, high black boots, and a deep purple sweater she’d found at Saks that matched Jason’s school colors. Her purple-and-white striped scarf added to her school spirit, but this was as far as she was willing to go, unlike some mothers who painted their faces purple and white and rang cowbells during the game.
    Ava checked out the picture. She liked her new haircut above her shoulders, while Sienna was growing her hair out for the wedding. Their brown hair, light eyes, small chins, and heart-shaped faces were enough for anyone to see they were related.
    â€œThis looks like a picture to frame,” Sienna said, leaning in to view the photo.
    They walked toward