Free Song of the Brokenhearted by Sheila Walsh

husband not addressed an issue with the kids, ever? Something was undoubtedly going on, and she needed to quit hiding her head. Obviously her family wasn’t as healthy and flawless as she believed.
    â€œMom, it’s going to be okay.” Sienna hopped up onto the end of the counter.
    â€œI’m sure it will,” she muttered half-heartedly. “I just can’t believe everyone at the game knew before we did.”
    â€œWhy do you care?” Sienna asked defiantly.
    Why did she care? Ava had never considered herself to be vain. Her childhood was enough to slam humility into her any time she thought of herself or their family with anything other than gratitude. Sometimes in the middle of a social event, she had the sudden awareness of the child she’d been. Tangled hair, hardened feet from running around outside without shoes, dirt on her sunburned cheeks, a stained homemade dress handed down from a woman in church with older daughters. They’d clean up for church, Daddy insisted on it, but on all other days, she and Clancy lived the life of ragamuffin orphans.
    Once when she spoke to a group of women at a country club, she had a momentary flash of panic with all of them arriving in luxury cars and sitting at their linen-covered tables wearing designer suits. There were women from old money, oil families, and Texas society. Would they see her true self? Would they turn away as if they saw her standing with matted hair and skinned-up knees? Yet they always surprised her by being full of broken people. Perhaps these women had grown up wearing expensive brands, but inside they were so much like her.
    Ava rarely spoke about her childhood, and even then it was mostly hints and snippet stories to get a point across. Few people knew what it had been like, and those who did didn’t have the full impact of what had occurred.
    So why did she care if her family had looked like fools? Was it the attention? Was it the props she’d built that created an illusion of perfection? She’d wanted to be real, transparent, and open to the people around her . . . except for the full image of her extended family. That was a past she hadn’t processed herself. It was like bread dough that rose and needed pounding down. Someday she might let it rise fully, she might take it in her hands and knead it into a dough that could be baked, sliced, buttered, and shared with others, nourishing them by the story she’d endured. But Ava wasn’t ready for that.
    â€œIt’s normal for kids to experiment a little,” Sienna said, interrupting her thoughts.
    â€œThat’s all it is, you think? Wait . . . you did stuff like this?”
    Sienna’s eyebrow rose as she bit back a grin. “A little, but nothing to worry about.”
    â€œWhat?” Ava pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned against the counter. “We don’t know how bad this is. He could be kicked off the team. College scouts are coming next week. Sure, he’s only a freshman, but they groom them early.”
    â€œOh,” Sienna muttered as the full weight of the possible consequences rolled over her.
    â€œHow could I have missed it?” Ava said to herself. Was the ministry distracting her from knowing that their own son was falling apart before their blinded eyes?
    Jason was the one who could never keep a secret from them. He told on himself about things they would have never found out, like the time he stole a pack of gum at the grocery store or when he’d started a small fire at church. So why did her kids need to keep secrets now?
    â€œWhat if he has a real problem?” Ava said, following Sienna toward the living room with a cup of tea in her hand.
    â€œNo way, Mom. I’m sure you experimented a little, or did a few rebellious things as a kid.”
    Ava stared at her daughter. She’d never told Sienna about her high school or college years.
    â€œI wasn’t a Christian then. And