Chapter 5

© Copyright 2006 by Elizabeth Delayne

Joanna jerked from her dream cold and clammy. She shivered underneath the light covering and tried to pull it closer. The strange room surrounded her, extending no comfort. She shivered again. The images still floated in her mind, not as a nightmare, really, but as the cold confrontations of her past.

The memory was clear, even out of the dream.

Joanna crawled out of the tall bed and reached for her robe. She pulled it over her shoulders, hoping it would offer her just enough warmth. Opening the door, she slowly crept down the long hallway, trying not to wake her hosts up. It was almost six in the morning, but Peter had said the night before he would be sleeping in after talking with her until two.

The grandfather clock in the living room was chiming on the hour when she hit the bottom step noiselessly. A deep cough surprised her. Joanna crept to the living room to see who had woken before her. She froze when she saw Rod sitting on the sofa, his Bible in his lap and his eyes intent on his reading. He was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, his hair wet and his face freshly shaven. Joanna had never been so glad to see anyone.

Rod looked up and saw her then. His eyes lighted as they met hers in surprise and concern. He saw the pain that lingered from whatever had gotten her up at such an hour.

Joanna covered the distance and slipped silently beside him on the sofa, like a child in need of comfort, leaning into his open arms. He pulled her close, accepting her silence.

“What are you doing here so early? I thought only weathermen were up at this hour.” Joanna inquired long after he had returned to reading his Bible, her voice still shaky from sleep. For a long time she had been content to sit silently, his arm holding her close. Somehow she knew he would wait for her to open up.

Rod smiled as he looked at her. “Well, someone has to be up to listen to the weathermen,” he dropped delicate kiss on her nose and leaned back to study her more carefully. “I go workout and eat breakfast with some friends everyday before work. I didn't stay the whole time,” he brushed a wisp of hair away from her face. He had not been able to concentrate on either the conversation or the workout. “I didn't expect you to be up waiting. I didn't think it was normal for you.”

“I just woke up,” Joanna attempted, but her eyes belied her effort of hiding the truth. “Sometimes the nights are long,” she admitted weakly. “I can't escape the past.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Not used to having someone to confide in about things so personal, Joanna shrugged. She felt him drop a kiss on the top of her head.

Joanna nodded and leaned against him, content. “What are you reading?” she asked him softly.

Rod looked at the precious woman he held, feeling her tremble. At one time she had been the strongest person he had known—at least, she had seemed to be strong on the outside. Now, he was learning that he had not looked close enough. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he replied, “Psalms.”

“Will you read some to me?”

Feeling blessed to have such a woman close to him, Rod shifted so he could see his Bible and hold her better. His voice rang out softly in the quiet room, full of warmth as he read Psalm 34:


I will extol the Lord at all times; His praise will always be on my lips.
My soul will boast in the Lord; let the afflicted hear and rejoice.
Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt His name together.
I sought the Lord, and He answered me; He delivered me from all my fears.
Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.
This poor man called and the Lord heard him; He saved him out of all His troubles.
The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear Him, and He deliver's them.
Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.
Fear the Lord, you his saints, for those who fear Him lack nothing.
The Lions may grow weak and hungry, but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.



Rod looked down at Joanna. Her trembling had stopped, and she felt still. Glad she was calming, he read on for a little while, his voice strong and sure.

When he came to the end of the chapter, he looked down and saw that Joanna was asleep in his arms. Thankful to God that He had brought them back together after years of separation, Rod skimmed up the verses. Knowing that Joanna was hurting and wanting to be there for her, he repeated verses 17 and 18 out loud, in a prayer, “The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; He delivers them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Rod appraised Joanna, his eyes full of warmth, “You hear that, Joey?” he asked, rubbing her cheek with the back of his fingers. “'The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.’ Just hang on for a little while longer. Just hang on.”

He shifted her gently so that her head lay in his lap. Immediately she curled up into a tiny ball.

Father, give her the strength and trust to believe in me and to confide in me, if I can help. And help me help her. Help me to know how. Let her see that she doesn't have to go through it alone. ❊ ❊ ❊

After a morning of stuffing envelopes, Rod took Joanna out to eat—as far as the far edge of his back yard that rested on the boarder of the neighborhood golf course. A sturdy card table, covered with a cheery red and white checkered table cloth, and two folding chairs were set up underneath an old oak. A single candle stick was sitting in the center, waiting to be lit. The table was set, complete with red place mats, forks, knives and spoons, glass plates, bowls and glasses.

Pulling her chair, Rod motioned for her to sit down and when she did, he kneeled beside her. Concern filled his eyes when he saw the single tear on her cheek. “Are you okay?”

Joanna nodded, unable to speak, giving him the best smile she could manage.

Rod only smiled and brushed her tears away gently with his fingertips. He wondered if she would be surprised at the amount of time he had spent thinking about her.

He stood and began pulling the dishes out of the basket. Joanna's eyes widened in surprise. Roast beef, potatoes, green beans, garden salad, rolls ...

A bubble of laughter left her lips. “This sure doesn't look like the picnics I'm used too.”

Rod raised an eyebrow and looked around. “Do you see any picnics taking place? This,” he said, sitting down across from her, his eyes mischievous, “is Rod's Diner, the very best in catering the needs of a special woman. You're the very first customer—”

“And you plan to have more? You’ll have to bring out some more chairs.” Joanna teased and Rod shot her a look and she continued on quickly, “From the looks of the food and the special care of the host, it'll be a success. I'll give my complement's to the cook later.”

Rod reached for her hands and she let him lead in prayer. Once again, she felt protected, not just by his touch, but by his reverence for God. “Father, I thank you for this beautiful day, and for the beautiful woman across from me....”

And even as he continued, his voice faded away.

Beautiful woman.

Rod Kirkland couldn’t see her as beautiful.

The food really was good, but the companionship was better. With Rod across from her, holding her eyes across the flicking flame, laughing, brushing her hand with his, soft jazz music now floating from the CD player ... everything seemed so right.

After the meal Joanna helped Rod load everything thing back into the waiting boxes. When he finished folding the table, he leaned it against a tree and turned to her with a smile. Then he reached for her hand.

“I feel like burning off a few calories. Want to walk with me?”

Joanna nodded, slipping her fingers through his. They walked for awhile across the large golf course that had been outfitted with trees. A man-made creek wound itself lazily across the open green lands providing a fascinating 'trap' for the golfers.

When they came to slow running water, Rod easily stepped across and reached over for Joanna, helping her as she jumped. Safely on the other side, Joanna could not help but look up at him in amazement. His hand offered strength ... just as he was offering her with himself.

They walked on, Joanna's thoughts scrambled. She could feel herself drawing closer to him ... and she was afraid. He needed to know about her dreams ... about her past before they went any further.

“I'm not sure I’m ready for this thing between us. It’s happened so suddenly and I don’t know the when or the where or the how,” she told him and stopped, turning to face him. She trembled slightly as the wait of the decision dawned on her, but she knew he needed know the problems she had before he made another move, “but I'm ready to talk.”

Rod's eyes looked over her in concern, “Are you sure?”

Joanna nodded and Rod led her to a grouping of large rocks that rested near the creek bank. They sat down and he waited.

She struggled to find the right words. She looked as if she would break any moment. He wanted to stop her from speaking. He wanted to let her know he would care for her no matter what, but realized that she needed to talk to him if she could.

He prayed for God's guidance.

“I guess you know by now that I didn't grow up in the best of homes,” Joanna began uncertainly, taking comfort in the pressure of Rod's hand. “The dream this morning ... the anger and competition I always fight, back in high school and now, are all apart of ... “ she stood and stepped away from him, trying to form her thoughts, “...the home I grew up in.”

“My dad didn't care too much about how I did. Not about my accomplishments ... but he had a good time poking at my failures,” she laughed bitterly, tears in her eyes, “and my mom, though she did seem to care some, used every force she could to throw back at my dad ... even me. My successes, if she noticed at all, were used as dagger's in my dad's low self esteem, which was probably why he seemed to hate me so.”

“At the time, I didn’t quite understand, and maybe I don’t now. I always wanted them to be proud of me, but I could never do enough to please them and I guess I can accept that now ... it wasn’t that I wasn’t good enough, but that they just didn’t care. I would study until two in the morning to make the grade. I ran for student congress and made it. I practiced baseball all day long all summer in the beginning because it was what my dad loved and I wanted him to love me ... and I needed to escape. In high school, softball meant so much to me that I would have died for them to come to just one of my games. Just one.”

“They never came to one banquet, one ceremony ... They never,” Joanna searched weakly for her words, “they never told me they were proud of me. Never showed me,” she shook her head sadly, “that they cared. I felt like a complete failure, especially when they split up and left without a word to the family. It hurt so bad then and I now ... I don’t want it to hurt. I don’t want it to mean anything. Even though I know I shouldn’t ... and I’m still ... so scared, Rod, and I don’t know how not to be.”

Joanna could not keep the pain from her face. She wanted to know how Rod felt, but was unsure how to ask. She did not know how she would handle it if he did not understand—if he never wanted to see her again.


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