Free Song of the Brokenhearted by Sheila Walsh Page A

there’re so many chances for problems, big problems like drug addiction, accidents . . .” She had dozens of real-life cases she could present from her experiences with Broken Hearts.
    Sienna pursed her lips to hide a smile. “Mom, I know. I’d rather this didn’t happen either, and I wish I could have listened to everything adults told me so that I didn’t make mistakes. But isn’t life about messing up and hopefully learning and growing from it?”
    Ava smiled while staring at the ceiling. “Listen to you, trying to calm me down. But I’m a mother, I want my kids safe. Mistakes mean the possibility of something that can’t be easily fixed—or fixed at all.”
    â€œI’m just a big sister, but I can appreciate those fears. And I’ve also seen how you trust God with our lives and with your own. It’s been the best example, and I’m seeing the value of that more and more.” She bit her lip and Ava waited to hear the rest. “I need to do that more. And Jason probably does too. You’ve put that into our lives, Mom. You should trust that.”
    Ava wanted to argue with her daughter and explain how it never felt like enough. Too many good families had lost their children to the world; she couldn’t just sit back and trust. Instead, she kept it inside. Her daughter would understand when she became a parent some day.
    â€œI promise to try,” she said, smiling at her daughter.
    â€œGreat, then let’s make some kettle corn and stay up late without the guys around.”
    â€œYou have a deal.”

    The weekend should have been baked French toast casseroles and time spent with their daughter and son.
    Dane called from the airport. He’d taken an unscheduled trip to New York. He hadn’t come home at all, but said he’d be home late Sunday. He promised Sienna that he’d fly out to California soon to make it up to her.
    Ava’s indignation twisted with a sense of helplessness. She couldn’t force him to come home. She could try tears, shouting, insisting, stating his wrong, or she could not be home when he arrived—but those tactics had never helped in their early years of marriage, and they surely wouldn’t help now.
    Mostly, Ava simply couldn’t believe this was Dane.
    Ava and Sienna sat at a little table in the corner of their favorite café, cradling cups of coffee in their hands. Jason was on restriction until further notice, but he didn’t want to talk to anyone yet. Ava and Sienna had left him at the house and ventured out for breakfast.
    â€œI’m sorry about your daddy,” Ava said, wondering if Sienna’s lack of disappointment was an act.
    â€œIt’s all right. He’s trying to protect us. Something is really wrong. We should support him.”
    â€œThat’s more mature than I’m feeling right now,” Ava said, wishing she could argue and state her grievances. How long did she have to endure his career emergencies? Ava sensed Sienna wasn’t about to back her up on this one.
    â€œThe student becomes the master,” Sienna said.
    â€œWe haven’t discussed the wedding.”
    Sienna bit her lip. So many of her daughter’s traits were similar to Dane’s that it always delighted her to see a few traits of herself in their girl.
    â€œCan this be a wedding-free weekend?”
    â€œReally? Most brides-to-be can talk of nothing else.”
    Sienna shrugged. “I was having wedding overload. Next week I’ll get back on track. Or for sure over Christmas break . . . once I’m done with finals.”
    Ava studied her daughter’s face, sensing again there was something more. “You’re talking to our drill sergeant of a wedding planner then.”
    â€œI’ll e-mail her when I get home.”
    â€œPreston is a really good guy . . . ,” Ava said.
    Sienna sipped her coffee and glanced around for the waitress. “I