Song of the Brokenhearted (17 page)

Ava listened with her hands flat against the wood. She saw her fingerprints smudge on the polished surface. They'd sat in these same positions when they'd planned the funerals of Dane's parents when they'd died six months apart from each other. These weren't their usual seats when eating dinner, but perhaps this was their necessary placement when facing a crisis.

Dane's head hung forward as he kneaded his temple with long fingers. Ava asked random questions as they came to mind. He answered with little emotion, painting a bleak picture.

“So what were all those late nights and the trip to New York about?” Ava asked, gazing toward the window where a deep sunset painted the western sky.

“It was about saving the company. Obviously a failure now. We were wading through the recession, but this investigation will fold us. That's exactly what our competitors planned. It's a smart but devious move. But big picture, it doesn't matter. I prayed and prayed about this.”

“You believed God would pull you through.”

“I did believe that. And I put too much energy in trying to save it. I'm tired.”

“What happens now?”

He rubbed his forehead. “I don't know. I'm hoping God has a better plan than the ones I've tried.”

“He does. I just wonder what it is.” Ava's heart raced with the uncertainty.

“Do you want to pray together?” Dane asked.

Ava swallowed hard as she moved to the chair beside her husband and took his hands. Times like these broke couples apart or joined them together. She wanted to escape, but where would she go? Still, the compulsion welled up strong within her, despite what her mind and heart were telling her. Her husband was praying for them, and she'd longed for such intimacy for a long time. So why now did she want to yank away her hands and rush out the door?

That night, Ava gave an abbreviated explanation to Jason, and Ava heard Dane talking with Sienna over the phone. Ava wished she could keep her children safe from what this might mean to their lives, to Sienna going to law school or Asia, to Jason who'd asked for a snowboarding trip to Utah over Christmas break. And Christmas was coming. Would they have a Christmas without gifts? And what about their house? How long could they live there before being booted out? Ava felt somewhat guilty over the relief that they didn't have to tell their daughter they couldn't afford her wedding.

As Ava's questions crowded in on top of one another, her husband's prayer offered little solace.

In the next few days, Ava tried adjusting to the instability. Dane hadn't given her an actual budget to work with. She didn't know if she should look for a job or what. Dane was inundated with talking to colleagues and corporate lawyers, answering questions from investigators, shifting through documents—and he was sleeping. A lot.

Dane never slept in. He rose at five during the week and five thirty or six on weekends. Dane never understood people who wasted the day in bed or shuffling around their lives instead of grasping it with two fists.

Now her husband slept with his mouth open and one arm up by his face. She picked up his shirt and pants off the floor, pulling a balled-up sock from under the bed. Dane's nighttime routine included his clothes going straight to the hamper. They joked about his obsessive-compulsive behavior, and in their early years of marriage it had been an issue with Ava's own neatness suddenly not good enough.

In college, Ava's roommates had teased her about her organized shelves, the organizing baskets under her bed that was always made unless she was in it. But compared to Dane's rigid habits, Ava felt like a slacker. They'd eased into a workable routine. Now, twenty-six years later, Ava didn't know what to do with this sleepy man with a scruffy chin rapidly turning toward beard material.

With Dane home and Ava avoiding most social events, she found more time for a last attempt at saving the willow tree.

Ava read online tree forums, posted and responded to advice, then searched the local university for a plant specialist. She sent pictures in, met with the arborist and his intern, and stopped in at several nurseries. The conclusion from the experts and second and third opinions were conclusive. The tree was dead.

Leo held the chain saw, looking more glum than usual. He stared at the saw and peered at her sideways, not meeting her eyes straight on.

He cleared his throat. “I ain't never been as sad to cut a tree as this one, and I don't even like the thing.”

Ava smiled while biting her lip, but her throat felt thick with emotion. Why was this affecting her so?

“Maybe we should wait till after the holidays or till springtime. If the leaves don't bud, then we will know for sure.”

Ava wanted to continue hoping. But some things couldn't be saved. Maybe some things shouldn't be saved, she mused.

“Let's get it over with.”

He studied her a moment longer as if to be assured of her certainty. Then Leo pulled the handle, and the saw roared to life. Ava stepped back, covering her ears.

She thought of the five willow trees along the Black Rock River. The bench beneath this tree would soon be surrounded by all sky as her beloved willow was turned to wood chips or burned in Leo's fireplace.

Leo bent forward, bringing the roaring teeth toward the smooth bark.

“Wait!” she yelled, making Leo jump back.

“What?” he yelled with a terrified expression.

“Don't do it!”

Leo shut down the saw and the noise died away. He cursed beneath his breath and with a frustrated wave of his arm headed for his truck parked outside the back gate.

Ava stared at the pathetic branches of what had been her full, luscious tree. It was gone. It was over.

But she just couldn't cut it down.

Nineteen

A
VA ARRIVED EARLY TO
T
HURSDAY MORNING
B
IBLE STUDY
. S
HE
walked through the garden, praying as she went, and then sat in the empty room well before the start time. Finally women arrived, greeting her and getting coffee and talking together. There was an air of uncertainty in some of the women—Ava knew those were the ones who'd heard about Dane's company, or Sienna's breakup, or Jason failing his drug test. They might wonder what she was doing leading a Bible study at all. Ava realized that everyone in her family was coping with a very personal challenge while also living with the effects of everyone else's. Except for her—she didn't have a personal issue to deal with on her own like they did.

She turned the pages of her Bible and for a moment let the rest of the conversations in the room disappear around her.

As a child Ava had loved her daddy's Bible. Sometimes she'd crawl onto his lap during a Bible study meeting or when he was studying it in the morning with the Word sitting on the table in front of them. She'd lean against Daddy's chest to hear the rumble of his voice as he talked about Jesus walking along the Sea of Galilee or of Moses climbing that great Mount Sinai or of Ruth following her mother-in-law to a foreign land, saying that Naomi's people would be her people and Naomi's God would be her God.

Ever so gently, she'd rub the thin pages between her fingers and listen to the sound of them turning. Daddy turned the pages quickly with a swooshing sound, but he never once tore that thin paper.

Ava would lean very close to the slim edge of gold that, when put together with all the pages as the Bible closed, made one solid gold layer. She'd touch the words in red and imagine Jesus' voice speaking them. At first Jesus sounded like Daddy. Later He took on His own voice, a more humble and rich tone that didn't get frustrated or pound the pulpit in anger or burst with emotions both up and down.

“Who would like to open in prayer today?” Kayanne asked from across the table. Ava usually opened this way, and she realized that the women sat silently, waiting for her to begin.

“We are praying for you and your family, Ava,” Jillian Latoya said with a sincerity that Ava appreciated. A few of the women wore confused expressions, others showed empathy, and one had the pruned up look of impertinence.

“Thank you. And for those of you who don't know, my family is experiencing a few challenges. Our daughter, Sienna, has decided to break off her engagement. Our son has made a few mistakes—high school, you know. And my husband's company is . . . well, it's not in the best place at the moment.”

A few surprised gasps were heard and mumbles of, "That's so hard." "Oh no. Poor Ava." "Oh we understand."

Ava gazed at the faces of women she'd come to love through all their issues, flaws, and struggles. The weekly gathering had bonded them, not always in friendships that extended outside the doors, but in a deep, soulful way. For wouldn't they be sisters forever?

“Sometimes I try to be your fearless leader, and I forget that you don't need me to be perfect or without struggles. We just need to be real with one another. I really do need your prayers and support.” Ava gazed around the room at the faces.

“I see God working in our family through it all. This morning John 16:33 popped into my mind. ‘I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.' Jesus was talking to His disciples, but don't we all know that there are many troubles in this life.

“Before this week, I didn't think I could get tired of my husband being around,” Ava said with a laugh. “Let me just say, he's driving me a little nutty.”

Corrine cleared her throat from the other end of the long table as she always did before speaking in a group. “You shouldn't criticize your husband just because he lost his job. It's not about the money. You have to love him for richer or for poorer.”

All eyes jumped back toward Ava with surprised expressions. Kayanne leaned forward ready to defend Ava when she interjected.

“I didn't mean it like that,” Ava said with her annoyance unchecked. “For twenty-six years, Dane has been at work during the day, and since Jason started kindergarten, I've had the house to myself during the day. Suddenly we're tripping all over each other.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Leslie Hammond said, plopping her purse on the table and digging out her cell phone. “Look at how many texts I've been getting from my husband and kids since I got here. Ten messages in, what, five minutes? Jimmy has been out of work for seven months now, and I don't know how much longer I can take of it. He actually told me that maybe I should get a job. What in the world would I do? I got a liberal arts degree and haven't worked . . . well, ever.”

“Oh, Les, that's awful,” Jillian said with a look of horror. Ava saw Kayanne purse her lips to keep back a laugh. Leslie and Jillian had been raised wealthy and expected to die the same way.

“Some of us in the room would be grateful for a husband,” Corrine added with a sympathetic glance toward Kayanne.

“It's not all fun and games over on the marriage side,” Shawna Normandy stated as she tapped her nails against the wooden table. “I'm ready to strangle my husband, and if he ends up strangled to death, none of you can tell the police that I just said that.”

Ava chuckled, but with an edge of tension. Shawna was an avid hunter with enough firearms in her house to take out half the forest. Surely she was kidding about her husband.

“Men are much worse out in the big, bad world though,” Kayanne said with a sigh.

“You think so? Do you have to clean up the progressive messes of a man who leaves smelly toenails all over the bathroom floor and eats cheese with his ice cream?”

“You've got me there,” Kayanne said with a laugh. “Though cheese ice cream is actually a flavor in some countries.”

“But not here, and this isn't cheese-flavored ice cream, it's cheese in his ice cream.” Shawna shook her head in disgust.

“Let's rein ourselves back in. I want to say that I appreciate this group. I don't say that enough,” Ava said. She held up the Bible study guide. “Chapter twelve this week.”

An hour later, the women dispersed and left the room with Kayanne remaining.

“What were you scribbling away about during Bible study? Your shopping list?”

“I was making notes about the study,” Ava said with a smile, then held up her notebook as proof. She turned the page and revealed a list of to-dos. “But, okay, I also have this.”

Ava usually tapped everything into her little techie devices, but during Bible study she only used pen and paper.

“Why exactly do you continue to lead this Bible study? It's not like you get anything out of it.”

“I get a lot out of it, and I hope others do as well. Wasn't that obvious by my rambling confession today? Why do you keep coming?” They walked from the room and down the hallway toward the entrance of the church.

“Because I certainly need it. I'm a divorcee, I'm neurotic, I spend a disgusting amount of time plotting the ill-will of two other human beings, one of whom I promised to love and cherish until death we did part . . .”