Chapter 2

© Copyright 2006 by Elizabeth Delayne



Joanna dropped into the cracked leather chair in the unair-conditioned service station and shifted to find a more comfortable position. Despite the noisy floor fan, it was hot and humid, even more so after walking from her stalled truck.

She could deal with heat and with exercise, other things that made her ill at ease.

The mechanic who sat across from her was her current problem. Ray, his name embroidered name read, appeared to be on break as he chewed his smokeless tobacco. As they both sat in the narrow waiting area, the minutes ticked by slowly.

She leafed through a magazine, seeing nothing but an array of color. Ten minutes past, and Ray was still there, watching her, chewing his smokeless tobacco.

The glossy pages of the magazine stared back as she tried to deal with another thing that made her uncomfortable—her sister-in-law’s words, or rather, the truth behind them.

“Steven's not here. He had a senior citizen's fellowship tonight. The only reason I'm home and not with him is because Paul's sick.”

A deep sigh escaped, and it had nothing to do with her nephew’s illness. Helen's suburban was in the shop so they only had one vehicle for a few days. “I guess that means you can't come pick me up.”

“No,” Helen said sympathetically. “Did they say when the truck will be ready?”

Joanna shook her head in the negative, her finger twisting around the oily phone cord. “No, but I'm going to wait around until they do before I make alternate plans.”

Even as she said it, Joanna knew she would stay the night in the old service station. Even if there was a motel near by, she didn’t have enough money for a room. Her cash would get her gas for the road home and a good sized meal, since Rod had paid for lunch. And now she had to find the money to get her truck fixed and herself home.

“Well, you went in to see Rod Kirkland, didn’t you? Why don't you call him and get him to come pick you up? I'd feel much better if you did. Steven and I have stayed with his parents when we were in Dallas before. They have a lovely home and they've always been hospitable.”

“I can’t.” She should have remembered that Helen was one of the people who had encouraged her to call Rod in the first place.

Helen was quiet, probably expecting Joanna to go on with a reason. When the younger woman did not, Helen spoke. “And why not? From what Steven says, you and Rod were friends, and the Kirklands have always been friends of your family. I’m sure Rod would do it. And Jan won't mind if you stay there.”

“I’m the odd one out in that relationship, Helen. Jeff and Steven were always at the Kirkland’s. Rod and I have nothing to do with it,” she sighed. She would have begged for a kind word from Rod’s mother, begged for one of the hugs Jan had given out so easily to everyone else. And it hadn’t helped that she was Rod’s mother. Always on his side.

“Besides, it's not that. And Rod and I knew each other, we were in the same group, but we were never—or rarely friends.”

“Then what is it?” Helen asked. “Joanna, if you two are going to be working together the next two months, you're gonna—have to trust each other a little bit.”

“We’re not, and that’s beside the point. He—”

“Joanna, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I do know you need him right now. You can’t stay the night in a gas station in the middle of Nowheresville.”

“I live in Nowheresville,” Joanna muttered, “And I'm not calling Rod. I can't.”

“Joanna, please don’t be so stubborn! You know I’m going to worry about you,” Though Helen was an hour away and the phone line was crackling because of a storm in between them somewhere, Joanna could almost feel Helen’s hands pushing at her, leading her one way, then the next. She closed her eyes, tired of caring what her family thought.

“Helen, I’m not a child!”

“Then stop acting like one.”

Joanna bit her upper lip and prayed for control. She was the baby of the family. People, namely her brothers and anyone slightly related to them, always forgot she could take care of herself.

“Look, Helen, I know Stephen has a lot of respect for the Kirklands. They were really good for him. It was different with me and Rod. And I know I went ahead and called him like you suggested, but it just didn’t work out. Things haven’t changed since high school, things that not even Stephen knows about.”

She shook her head trying to shake the hurt that welled under the surface, “Do you think you can reach Steven? I don’t want to stay here all night. If he can’t come I’ll have to call Matt.”

Helen sighed, understanding that Matt was a last resort. “I'll see what I can do. Stay put until you hear from me, okay? Now where did you say you were?”

Joanna quickly related the location and phone number and then hung up so Helen could make her calls. Within minutes, however, Joanna wished her sister-in-law back on the phone, despite the conversation that would ensue. The miserable convenience store was lonely and dirty and twenty minutes later the man across from her kept staring.

Leaning back against the torn seat cover, Joanna tried to relax and succeeded, if only partially. As sleep closed in, she had a harder time keeping the handsome image of Rod out of her mind. He had looked so good in his double breasted charcoal-colored suit, much stronger . . . more adult and more of a man than she had ever imagined.

The image complete in her mind, Joanna was nearly asleep when the door to the store opened, the bell tinkling softly. The soft-shoed footsteps came in her direction, but she did not open her eyes. It was too soon for Steven.

The footsteps stopped before reaching her. The clean smell of aftershave, vaguely familiar and not particularly welcome in the stuffy gas station environment, overwhelmed her in contrast.

She opened her eyes and frowned wearily. Rod’s image stood before her in reality, except for jean and tee-shirt clad instead of sporting the professional suit.

“What are you doing here?” Joanna asked softly as she sat up, nearly afraid of her voice. She looked up at the man, this man she thought would not, could not care, and nearly melted.

“Heard you had some trouble.”

“A little. How did you—”

“Know? Helen called mom and mom got in touch with me since I was closer. I told her I would come get you.”

The urge to murder Helen for meddling, was squelched by relief. It was hard to imagine his callousness when he was standing before her looking concerned, “Why?”

Rod visibly tensed at her question, his lean jaw tight, but in control. “We need to talk,” he looked over at Ray, who for the first time all evening was not boring his steel eyes into her. “But not here, and not now. You look completely exhausted.”

They watched each other, but only for a moment, both weary of the tension between them. Rod tucked his hands in his pockets because he wanted to touch.

Joanna felt helpless. She desired his comfort even when she wanted nothing more than to run from him. She was not ready to fight the memories or the feelings he brought with him. He reminded her too much . . . of her mom . . . of her dad . . . of Bethi . . . of himself.

Reaching down, he captured her hand in his and Joanna allowed him to pull her to her feet. She hated that his touch felt so right—hated that she still let him affect her.

“Do I have a choice?” she asked softly, hating herself for feeling drawn to him. It was dangerous to be so close, but she wanted him to care—needed him to care about her.

Rod shook his head, and led her out the door to where his luxurious black four-door was parked. “And let you stay here or at any of those other cheap motels I passed on the way?” he stopped as he reached out and pulled the handle back, opening the safe and comforting environment for her to step into.

Then he sighed, rubbing his hands over his face wearily.

“No,” he amended abruptly, drawing her eyes back up to his, “that's not the real reason I came. I respect you, Joanna, and I'm sorry I hurt you this afternoon. I came for you.”

After Rod shut the door Joanna had no idea where he went. He had left the car running so that the coolness of the air conditioner calmed her considerably. By the time the driver’s side door opened and he slipped in, she had lost track of time. Her eyes were closing in sleep, and the words he spoke were just gentle mumbles in a foggy world that seemed so far away.

* * *

Disoriented as she came from sleep, Joanna sat for a minute letting her mind slowly figure out where she was. She could hear only a muffle of the efficient engine of Rod's car, and she tensed remembering, knowing he was right beside her.

But, there was something else. Rain. And windshield wipers. Soft comforting motions that quickly soothed. A soft blanket had been tucked around her. She cuddled up in it, trying to revitalize her body's heat that sleep had stolen.

Slowly she opened her eyes to the grey world they were traveling in. She watched the road speed by, along with a few houses and a store here and there. They were definitely not in Dallas. Probably out in the suburbs. “Where are we?” Her voice cracked from lack of use.

“You're awake,” Rod noted, his eyes looking her over as if to check on her—but he would not care would he? Even if his green eyes did hold something close to concern. She looked away, confused.

When his eyes were back on the road, he answered her question simply, “Just outside of Witherspoon.”

The name rang a bell and Joanna sighed. She had heard the name earlier on in the day, during lunch, and was not sure if she liked hearing it now. “You're taking me to your parents’.”

“Where did you expect me to take you?”

“I didn’t think about it,” Joanna told him, asking herself the same question. She should have asked him to take her to a hotel, but then she would have had to ask him to pay for it. “And I don't think it's a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You're mom doesn't like me,” Joanna cringed, her brow worrying over it.

Rod turned his head slightly in surprise, but wisely swung his eyes back on the stormy road before them. “What gave you that idea?”

Because his mother was petite and beautiful, an etiquette-holding woman who captured attention by walking into a room. She was everything Joanna wasn’t . . . everything proper, decent, beautiful.

“She just never seemed to . . .” Joanna told him, not sure how to explain. How could she tell Rod that his mother had never hugged her like she had everyone else? It sounded so petty. “I always felt . . . clumsy or . . . I don't know, I just always thought she didn't.”

“Mom rarely meets someone she doesn’t like,” Rod spoke the words slowly. “I would guess it was your dad . . . both you're parent's she did not—” he paused, carefully considering his words. “You aren’t like your brothers, begging for attention, that sort of thing. She worked with abused children in the hospital, and you reminded her so much of them that she cried over it when she talked with granddad about you.”

The memory was fresh to him, startling him as he remembered that night, so long ago. It had been before high school, surely, or maybe their freshman year.

Joanna shifted to look at his profile as Rod turned and met her eyes for a brief second. He smiled softly before turning them back to the road. The windshield wipers went back in forth in a tapping, calming, sound.

Cried over her? Joanna worried over the words. She had never thought about his mother without being slightly afraid of her before. Well, maybe not afraid, but defiantly ashamed. And Rod was right. She’d never been able to talk to Jan.

Had she misinterpreted Jan Kirkland’s concern for so much less? For hatefulness? She suddenly prayed that she had.

* * *

The Kirkland's home was nestled in the midst of a glorious park of outstanding homes on the outskirts of Witherspoon. Though the two story house was not the biggest, nor the grandest, Joanna was slightly intimidated and oddly drawn inside. The pink brick house itself, with carefully placed lighting, was charming. The lawns were unmistakably landscaped, the windows glittering under Rod's headlights and the rain.

Rod pushed a garage door opener and slid his car inside beside another luxury sedan, but white, not black like his own. The garage lights immediately turned on, and Rod flicked his headlights off.

Joanna just sat and looked around, even as Rod climbed out of the car. The back of the garage was set up as a work room for Peter Kirkland, Rod's dad.

The door on her side opened, and Joanna slowly undid her seat belt and stepped out, her eyes too fascinated on everything else to look at Rod. Closing the car door, he took her arm gently in his hand and led her to the door that led inside, probably into the kitchen. Joanna realized then how hungry she was. She should have grabbed a bag of chips at the gas station.

Lifting her eyes to meet Rod’s, Joanna saw something in them, something that made her heart beat quicker. Those deep blue eyes were comforting her, gentling her, begging her to trust him.

Before she had much time to contemplate the look or the sensation it brought, the door opened. Jan Kirkland, petite in frame, stood at the door. There was grey in her brown hair. She smiled, and Joanna saw Rod’s quiet smile.

“Joanna, I’m glad you could make it.” She was smiling, was all Joanna could think. Rod’s mother was smiling at her. “Come on inside, dear. You must be starving. Peter and I just finished all we can eat of the glorious bowl of stew. I grabbed the recipe from a friend I work with at the hospital. You're welcome to all you can eat.”

Taking her by the hand, Jan led Joanna inside, soothing her guest. Joanna was seated at the table, steaming bowl in front of her, before she even remembered Rod. She turned slightly and saw that he had taken the seat beside her, a bowl placed in front of him also.

Had he missed dinner? Joanna thought to herself, feeling slightly guilty that she had brought this much trouble on him. Had he been out on a date?

Joanna stopped herself from thinking in that direction and focused on the stew before her. She would find some way to repay him later. She bowed her head slowly, in indecision on what to thank God for. She was not positive if she was glad Helen had called Rod, but she was sure glad to be away from the gas station, so far away now.

Thank you, Lord, for taking care of me, she prayed, even when I was stubborn enough to not want to do it this way.

Joanna ate heartily, not taking a moment to stop and look at Rod or think about what he might be thinking. When she finished and looked up, his eyes were own her. He looked away quickly.

The rest of the evening past by in an air of peace. Joanna climbed into a tub of massaging bubbles for nearly an hour and completely relaxed both her stiff body and her turbulent mind. She was reluctant to climb out, but had nearly dozed twice and already had prune-like hands.

Wrapping herself in an oversized hunter green terry-cloth bathrobe that Peter had provided, Joanna crawled onto the four poster queen size bed and curled up on top of the thick comforter.

Not five minutes later Jan peeped into the room and found Joanna fast asleep. She pulled an afghan out of the closet and gently lay it across the still form.

Rod peeked around the open door and watched his mother. His eyes fell on Joanna, sleeping so peacefully. The moonlight slipped through the window and left a glow on her skin. Without thinking, he pushed the door completely open and went to the bed.

Enchanted, his eyes studied Joanna's fresh, clean face, the slightly damp hair cascading from the ribbon that held it back. She looked so delicate and tiny curled up in the middle of the bed.

He swallowed, not knowing what to do with the feelings she stirred inside of him. Part of him yearned to reach down and cradle her, to make her understand that whatever had happened 10 years ago didn’t matter anymore. Both of them were new people, still quite different from each other, but different from who they had been.

He was startled when his mother gently touched his arm. He looked at her in surprise and followed her out.

“Joanna's grown into a fine woman,” Jan noted after she shut the door, more for Rod's benefit then her own.

“Yeah,” Rod agreed, thoughtful. He pictured Joanna, seeming so small against the covers of the guest bed. There was an ache in his arms and in his heart that surprised him. If only he could have held her. If only she would accept him. They had not talked yet, but Rod promised himself he would find some time the next day.

* * *

“Dallas must have had some affect on you,” Steven remarked from the other side the room. His kids were down for a nap, and Joanna had nothing to occupy herself with. She was standing in front of the living room window, staring out, but focused on nothing. “You hardly said a word during lunch.”

Joanna shrugged, not knowing how to respond. Ever since she had left Dallas on Friday, her mind had been constantly on Rod Kirkland, the Rod Kirkland of the present, not past. She saw him everywhere, and even worse, wished him there. The Sunday afternoon at her brother's came bringing her relief. She had hoped Steven's two children, Paul and Daniel, would draw her mind away from Rod, and they had for awhile. “I was enjoying the boys’ banter. They—”

“It's not the house is it? or that debt collector call? I thought we had arranged the payments.”

“Steven—”

“Joanna.”

She rolled her eyes begrudgingly, “Everything’s fine with the house.”

“Then what is it?”

“Summer blues?” Joanna responded, shrugging her shoulders. She turned to meet Steven's concerned eyes. Steven could see through any excuse she would make. Facts were facts. Once again she was attracted to Rod Kirkland, and that attraction had given him the instant ability to hurt her all over again.

“It's nothing. Working on our reunion preparations this weekend and going through all those high school memories was just a drain. And then my little league team lost to the Cougars again yesterday and the poor things were crushed.”

Steven's eyes lit up in silent laughter as he walked toward her. “He's that bad, aye?”

“Who's that bad? My team may not be consistent winners, but they do know their stuff.” Joanna forced herself not to cringe and made herself not look at her brother.

“Don't play that game with me, Joanna,” Steven warned playfully. “Remember that I know you better than anyone, even better than Helen thinks she does.”

“What are you getting at?” Joanna asked, turning to stare out the window again. Everyone in her family thought they knew her better then the rest. She was tired of it. Tired of being the youngest and being told what she wanted to do.

And hating that Steven did know her as well as he did.

“Let's see. First you go to Dallas to meet Rod after nine years of not seeing him, tell Helen that you will not ask for his help and then come back after staying at his parent's house in this . . . mood.”

“I’m not in a mood.”

“Yes you are. I’ve lived with you for over 27 years, Joanna.”

“You didn't even see me when I got home Friday, Steven,” Joanna told him, pulling her courage together so she could look at him. “I tell you, I was thinking about my little league team. Those kids are so cool, but they just need a little work. I was just thinking of them.”

Steven only shook his head, turning to leave. “I believe thou shalt not lie is written in Exodus, Joanna,” he said with a laugh as he walked away, feeling quite proud of himself.

For the first time in years, Joanna wanted to tackle her brother, but knew he would win eventually. Then he would tickle her until he had all the truth he wanted to hear. She turned her hazel eyes back toward the window and sighed, Rod’s image returning to her mind. She thought about the easiness of their conversation on Friday afternoon. The planning had been like the old days, bouncing crazy ideas off each other until the inspired something good to come out. Laughing over odd ideas and following through on the good ones.

They’d been good planners, poor friends.

Now things seemed different. They’d questioned each other, but they didn’t argue. Rod seemed to be taking Bethany's memory into his own hands as they worked with the plans and directing her slowly with as little pain as possible.

She did not want him to do that. She did not want him to be nice only to turn against her again.

She had two weeks to get her emotions together before she drove back to Dallas. She would be friendly, but controlled and focused when she saw him again. As attractive as Rod had become, he was bound to have a girlfriend somewhere.

After a long afternoon at her brother's, Joanna entered the lonely old house feeling exhausted. Looking around the dark, but clean living room, Joanna tried not to think about how empty her life felt since coming home from the Kirkland's. Her brothers all lived in different towns. No one knew where her mother or father were and she doubted anyone cared.

The answering machine was blinking, a persistent reminder that there was no one else in the house to answer the phone or share messages with her.

Joanna pushed the button, and waited as the tape rewound and rewound—a long message. At the sound of the voice, she felt her heart skip a beat. She could feel the blood rushing from her face as she paled.

“Joanna, this is Rod. A friend of mine gave me a set of his season tickets to the Ranger's game on Thursday. He and his wife are going to see his grand children and he thought maybe I'd want to go in his place. I've been before and his seats are really good. Anyway, I know it's technically short notice, but hey, I know how much you liked the Rangers. I thought maybe you'd want to go. Give me a call. I should be in for the rest of the night.”

The answering machine cut off, leaving Joanna in stunned silence. In near panic, she began to nip at the edge of her index finger—as she rehearsed the obvious in her head. Rod had called her and expected her to call back.

She could just call him and say that she had plans . . . even though she had not been to a Ranger's game in years . . . and her favorite sport was baseball.

She hated Rod at that moment. Hated him all over again for using her weaknesses against her. Hated him because he made her want to go . . . .

The phone rang and she jumped. She answered the phone with a breathless, “Hello?”

“Joanna, this is Rod.” Her heart nearly stopped and she struggled from hanging up the phone. “I didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?”

Anytime would have been bad, Joanna thought to herself, but managed a weak, “No.”

“Good. Did you get my message?”

“I was just listening to it—I just got home.”

“Oh,” he said and waited for a second as if he expected an answer. Joanna stood, holding her phone against her ear with her right hand, her left hand pinned under her right elbow as if she was holding herself back. She was afraid to say too much. She was afraid of him.

When she did not speak Rod continued quickly, “I thought maybe you could meet me at my apartment and we could go. Mom and dad would love to have you stay with them on Thursday night and we could talk some on Friday—you could stay until Saturday if you thought that was best.”

“My team has a baseball game on Saturday,” Joanna replied weakly.

“That's right. Well, you'll have to be back for that. I have a meeting on Friday afternoon, but I'm free until lunch. You can go home then if you want.”

The soft bubble of laughter from her throat surprised them both. “Rod, I think you missed something. I never said yes.”

He hesitated, she could tell, and she wondered how many girls actually said no to Rod Kirkland.

“Are you doing anything on Thursday?”

“No,” Joanna replied honestly.

“And your truck is running right?”

Joanna swallowed. Her truck was running better then it had in a long time, but Steven had already ordered her to take his car on her next long trip. “Yes.”

“Then what's to keep you from coming?” Rod asked, but gave her no time to answer. “I know how much you love the Rangers, and you know now that mom thinks you're great. You said yourself that you weren't doing anything otherwise. And these seats are magnificent, I promise.”

“I don't know.”

“Joanna, is there any reason why you can't come? It isn't me is it?” Rod's voice was almost pleading. Though Joanna's heart screamed YES!, she heard herself reply “No.”

“Does that mean you'll come?”

Even when she heard herself surrender, she could not believe it. She took down notes on how to get to his apartment blindly. When she hung up the phone, she somehow found her way to the sofa, and sat down, numb. What in the world have I done? Her weak mind nearly screamed. What have I done?


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