Free Cross My Heart by Abigail Strom Page A

about choices. Wondering if I’ve made the right ones. Plus I just turned thirty, which feels like a milestone kind of birthday. I know I’m changing, I know I’m not the same person I used to be…but I’m not sure who I’m becoming. And I’m not always sure I want to change at all.”
    She wondered why she was telling him all this. It was more than she’d told anyone else.
    “What are you afraid of losing?” he asked. He was looking at her intently, like he was genuinely interested in what she was saying.
    “My edge. I’m afraid of losing the wild part of myself, the adventurous part. I guess I’m afraid of being domesticated,” she added with a smile. “Does that sound weird to you?”
    He shook his head. “No. You’re a free spirit, and you don’t want that to change.” He studied her for a moment. “Being in Iowa probably makes you worry about it more. Your parents live nearby, right? A reminder of the kind of life you don’t want.”
    “That’s pretty perceptive,” she said slowly. “And yes, my parents’ farm is just outside of town. They’re wonderful, and I had a great childhood in so many ways—but the truth is, I couldn’t wait to get away. I love my mom so much, but when I thought about having a life like hers, tied to her husband, tied to her kids, tied to the land…it made me feel like I was choking. Like I couldn’t breathe. I was always so restless…being back here makes me remember just how restless I was.” She smiled reminiscently. “My dad used to call me his gypsy girl.”
    “Do you think you could settle down in L.A., once you’re out there?”
    She shook her head. “Probably not. I loved Chicago, but even there I got restless sometimes. The movie project I’ll be working on should last about six months, and I haven’t decided what I’ll do after that. The truth is, I like having the freedom to roam. I don’t think I’ll ever put down roots.”
    “Has anyone ever tried to change your mind?”
    She looked at him, wondering what was behind the question. “Once,” she said after a moment. “I fell madly in love when I was twenty-two. Derek and I were together for three years. He was a bass player, and when his band got big he wanted me to quit the Mollies and marry him. And I was ready to do it.”
    “What happened?”
    “I found him in bed with my best friend. Which ended our relationship and broke up the Mollies in one fell swoop, since she was our lead singer.”
    He stared at her.
    “What?” she asked after a short silence, trying to decipher his expression. Was he feeling sorry for her?
    “I can’t imagine a man cheating on you. I can’t imagine being with you and even looking at another woman.”
    It wasn’t the response she’d expected, but a rush of something sweet went through her.
    “Well…thanks. The next time I see Derek I’ll tell him you said so.”
    Silence settled over them. Michael rested a foot against the porch rail, rocking the swing gently back and forth.
    “Do you miss it?” he asked after a while.
    “Miss what?”
    “The life you had with the Mollies. Before you broke up.”
    “Sometimes. I really loved performing, and it was hard to give that up. But it’s a tough life, too. Late nights, crazy schedules, a lot of drugs around.”
    “Were you ever into that?”
    She shook her head. “No. My little sister, Megan, was diagnosed with cancer a few months after I left home. She died three years later. Watching her struggle so hard for life…there’s no way I would have thrown mine away on drugs.”
    “Megan’s House,” Michael said softly.
    Jenna glanced at him in surprise. “That’s one of Allison’s projects.”
    He nodded. “I contribute to her foundation, so I get her newsletter. I didn’t realize the significance of the name, though. It’s a retreat center for families dealing with childhood cancer, right?”
    Jenna nodded.
    “How old was Megan when she died?”
    “Fourteen.”
    “She was Claire’s age.