Chapter 21

© Copyright 2007 by Elizabeth Delayne

“Are you okay?” Rod asked when the door shut behind her father. Tom Berkley had only stayed a few minutes after Rod arrived, pausing to approve with his eyes, before escaping from the house, the memories, taking only his daughter’s words with him. Not his pride ... not her love.

Rod brushed a length of hair away from her face, his eyes compassionate and concerned. She nodded, swallowing against the ache in her throat, leaning into the comfort Rod offered. His strong arms surrounded her, protecting her, physically and emotionally. She knew he was waiting for her to talk, to explain the presence of a man who had deserted her once before. She needed time to separate the emotions involved in the encounter.

“I think I am,” she said slowly, remembering a mirage of details all at once. “It’s been a tough day. Anytime the three of my brothers are in the same house together ... I hate the way they treat each other. I hate that we can’t just hold onto each other in this painful time.”

She sighed, shifting her head slightly so she could better hear Rod’s strong heartbeat. “I don’t want to go tonight, Rod. Call me a coward, but I don’t want to face that place and my mother ... not in this way. Not like this. I don’t want to see her and not ... have her.”

He didn’t say anything, only held her as she worked through her needs.

“But I would regret it for the rest of my life,” she continued, finally. “Mom, at least the memory I have of her, deserves it. And my brothers won’t understand. They’ve never completely understood.”

His hand rubbed into her shoulders, gently pressing into the knots. “I wish it was over—I wish we would bury her and get it over with. We're just sort of waiting for the funeral to happen. I guess that everyone who's going to be there is here.”

“Even your dad.”

“Yes,” Joanna heard the confusion in his voice. She knew what he was thinking—the same thing she did when she opened the door for her father. She told Rod everything she knew; that her father and mother had seen each other often over the years, that her father had been giving her mother money, and that Matt had kept in touch with their mother.

“It’s so sad. He loved her, I know that, but they couldn’t get passed what happened in this house. I don’t suppose they would have left if they could have—or if his feelings matched my mother’s.”

“What are you going to do about Matt?” Rod asked, watching her as she leaned back and met his eyes.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, leading Rod over to the sofa. “Matt has never trusted the rest of us—I think he’s felt left out of our lives, never quiet able to understand the bond we have as believers, jealous of our faith. Maybe if I’d understood that before, things wouldn’t have gotten so far out of hand, where he couldn’t trust us to love our mother. To protect her in her sickness.”

“I would have done almost anything to see her again, especially in the last month,” Joanna shook her head, not wanting to get bogged down in the confusion. “I don't want to jump to any conclusions. Matt hasn't always been fair with me, or with any of us, but he’s been a good brother in the tough times. I don't know what he was thinking this time.”

She looked at Rod, a wry smile on her face. “Since the subject’s been brought up, Matt won’t be happy to see you—especially when he realizes that you’re with me. I hope there’s not a scene.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a coward and he doesn’t know we’re together. He doesn’t even know you’re in the picture. I didn’t face him before he left this afternoon,” she hedged, clearly not answering his question. “I think that he’ll be less likely to throw a fit in the funeral home.”

She saw the worried look in his eyes and bristled, “It's my life Rod, not his. And he can be the protective older brother all he wants, but he won't stop me from seeing who I want to.”

“Hey,” Rod said gently, reaching to gently brush her hair away from her face, “calm down. If Matt ever tried to keep us a part, I wouldn't let it happen. I mean, we're both old enough to know what we need.” He dropped a gentle kiss on her nose. “Why doesn't he want me to see you?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Doesn't it?”

Joanna hesitated. “For starters, he’s always been protective of me, so much more so than Steven and Jeff. He just thinks he has to, and it doesn’t help that you were the preacher's grandson. Matt doesn't hold to dearly to the clergy, especially since Steven and Jeff haven’t dealt with the situation in the best way. I’m beginning to think that part of Matt’s problem was that he was excluded from us, and since your family had a special relationship with them, Matt is equally hostile toward you for the same reasons.”

“But ... there’s something else,” Rod realized, seeing the underlying fear and uncertainty in Joanna’s eyes—a look he had seen once before, that first Thursday in Dallas, right before she attempted to drive out of his life. “Something more?”

Joanna looked away, but Rod turned her chin back with gentle fingers. She had hoped that they would never have to talk about it, but she had only been fooling herself. She took a deep breath, praying for strength and guidance.

“He knows about ... he knows you've hurt me very deeply before and he doesn't want me hurt again. I guess his intentions are good.”

That time she did look away from him. Rod sat quietly, contemplating what she had said and what she had not said.

“Was there was a specific time that I hurt you more than usual?”

Joanna bit her lips together. She refused to bring the incident up. They had never talked about the night of their senior party.

“If we have to talk about it, I would rather we wait until tonight, after we go to the funeral home.”


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