Chapter 3

© Copyright 2006 by Elizabeth Delayne



Joanna’s frustration rose over the next few days. Only part of it had to do with her feelings for Rod. After a familiar argument with her oldest brother, Matt, she wanted to get away from the lonesome house just as much as he wanted her to stay. Her entire life Matt had been protective of her, but finding out that she was associating with Rod Kirkland had really loaded his cannons.

On Tuesday Joanna watched her little league baseball team run around during practice, but as chaotic as they were, she was the one unable to concentrate. They were all excited in their extra-ordinary child-like way, even after their loss to the Cougars on Saturday, and for the first time, she was having a hard time joining their spirit.

After Rod called on Sunday night, he was rarely off her mind. Joanna could not control the thoughts that rocked her mind continuously, even in her dreams. She hated herself for letting him take control of her again, after all, blind as he could be to her emotions, she knew she would end up hurt.

During High School she had liked him so much, respected him, listened to him behind a guise of not listening. While there were times he had supported her, he had hurt her too.

You will never be loved.

How could she reconnect with the man who had uttered those stabbing words? The ones that made being loved by anyone, even a man like Doug Fletcher, so important?

“Bobby! I thought I told you to keep your swing lower!” Joanna coached, then stopped, surprised at the frustration in her voice. She watched as tears pooled in the little boys eyes and her heart turned over. I can’t live like this. I can’t do this, God. I can’t.

Approaching the little boy slow, Joanna knelt and put her arms around him in a friendly hug. “I’m sorry, Bobby,” she apologized. “You’re trying, that’s what counts. Right?”

Bobby shrugged, wiping away a tear with his dirty fist. He was one of the smaller ones on her team and just as sensitive as some of the others.

“Cynthia?” Joanna motioned to one of the older players. “Take Bobby over to right field and work on his swings for me.”

Before Bobby could walk away, Joanna reached out and pulled his ball cap off, messing his hair. “Go get’em tiger,” she whispered and watched him run off, forgiving her.

Thursday finally came and Joanna drove the long road to Dallas to meet Rod, whispering those same words to herself. She parked in the enclosed parking garage, looking around at the fancy cars parked around her. At one time she’d wanted to be where Rod was, successful, with extra money in the back.

Yet she’d chosen a different road, a better road for her, she thought. She wasn’t jealous, just . . . wondering if she’d made the right decision. The money issue didn’t make her afraid. It was her past, not just with him, that had carted itself in between.

Her words to Bobby rang back in her ears, Go get’em tiger. She tried to believe she had the spirit she so loved in her little team, but prayed, knowing she did not. God, I’ve built myself up a hope, just like I did in High School. I can’t help it—You would have thought I would have learned my lesson ten years ago. I just don’t want to be hurt, she looked down at her shaking hands, I don’t want to feel like nothing again.

Using the intercom system, Joanna paged Rob’s apartment. His cracking voice greeted her almost immediately. The electronic-locked door clicked opened, letting her pass. She walked slowly down the hall, surprised to see Rod coming toward her. Could she help but see the smile on his face . . . could she help but hope it was for her?

“Hi,” he said, taking her hands in his. “I’m glad to see that you made it okay. Were the roads bad?”

Joanna shook her head, trying to fight the feeling’s Rod’s strong hands stirred. She pulled her hands away and pushed the feelings back. “Clear. I hate to say it, but I made it here in record time. Steven’s car drives smooth.”

“And fast, I bet,” Rod teased, walking beside her toward his apartment. “I would have thought you would have learned your lesson years ago.”

“Old habits don’t die easily,” Joanna told and stopped when he did in front of his apartment. He opened the heavy oak door. She cringed as she took in his living room. As extravagant as the outside was, the inside was sparse, but . . . grand. A high ceiling, ornate ceiling fan and modern studio lights.

A large screen T.V. sat to the side wall, two sofa’s placed in front, as if set for the guys to come over for the game . A stereo system that would rival Glendale’s electronic store’s best waited to be turned on.

And yet, what appealed to Joanna was that Rod’s whole apartment was not centered around the T.V. or the stereo, but the mahogany desk to the side. Without thinking, she walked over and ran her fingers across the varnished wood. She recognized the eight foot desk easily. It had been Rod’s grandfather’s desk.

Sitting down in the chair, Joanna ran her fingers along the top, remembering when she had sat behind the desk. Joshua Simpson had pulled her in his big lap so many times, including the time when she went to talk to him about Jesus Christ . . . unable to understand how Jesus could love her, when her earthly father did not seem too.

Jeff, one of her brothers, and Steven, the only other two Christians in her family then and now, took her to church with them mainly to keep her away from home after their parent’s had their Saturday night drinking gorges. As much as the distaste their parents had for church, it had been easy enough to convince them that Joanna would not be so much of a bother away from home.

Jeff had worked as a youth intern for the church for several years and through his relationship with Rev. Simpson, Joanna met the dear, loving man.

“Do you make mistakes, Joey?” the aging minister asked and the twelve year-old Joanna had nodded faithfully. “Well, your father makes mistakes. We all do. We’re all human.”

“You mess up?” Joanna asked with surprise. Never had she thought that someone as loving as Rev. Joshua Simpson could or would be like her father. She could not see him with a quick temper. She could not see him that impatient, not to either his wife, or his daughter Jan, Rod’s beautiful mother.

Joshua saw the fear, the need to run, long before Joanna knew it was coming. He held onto her, making her look him in the eyes. He had seen the same reaction in Jeff during the many hours of counseling.

“No, Joanna. I was not saying that I get angry like your dad does, but I do sin. I sometimes put off doing things, even when I know I have to do them. I can be selfish and jealous. Yes,” he said with a small laugh of humbleness, “I do make mistakes and go against what God wants me to do. We all sin.”

“And yet, the neat thing is, that God, our Heavenly Father, doesn’t make mistakes. He’s perfect,” Joshua made sure Joanna was listening, “and He loves us, and because He loves us, He died for us.”

“Mrs. Brown told us last Sunday that Jesus died so we could live, and Jeff said that Jesus wanted us to live with Him for eternity—forever, Jeff said, with Jesus,” Joanna told Joshua with understanding.

“And did they tell you how you could live with Jesus forever?”

Joanna nodded, “We must believe that Jesus lives and that He knows what’s best for us and He wants us to do what He thinks is best.”

“Do you believe that Joey? Do you believe that Jesus died for you and rose in three days so that you might have live with Him now and forever?” Joshua looked at her, sensing the struggle inside. “Do you believe He loves you?”

Joanna looked him square in the eye and smiled, her eyes twinkling in happiness. “Yes,” her voice was soft, softer than a bird on decent.

“Joanna, the Bible says that ‘if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe with all your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved,” the excitement and trust in Joanna’s eyes spurred Joshua on. “Do you believe Joanna? Can you tell Jesus that you believe?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to ask him into your heart right now?”

“If He wants me,” Joanna whispered.

Joshua picked his Bible up from his desk and, with his arms wrapped around her, the Bible in her lap, easily flipped through. “What does this say, Joanna?” Following his strong finger with her eyes, Joanna looked over the verse. “Read it too me, out loud,” he prompted.

“ Are not two stones sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more;” tears flowed down from Joanna’s eyes. She wiped them away quickly with the sleeve of her sweatshirt and re-read the sentence. “ So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than the sparrows.”

“I want Him in my life, Rev. Simpson. I want to know Jesus for real.”

Seventeen years later, Joanna unconsciously pulled the middle drawer out and pushed the desk tray back, not thinking that Joshua Simpson had long ago gone to be with Jesus or that she was looking through what was now his grandson’s desk. Instead she searched down through the many names written on the inside of the drawer until she saw her own, the date of her salvation written beneath.

For a long time, Joanna just sat looking at her name, written so long ago, thinking about the other times she had sat with Joshua Simpson at that desk . . . including times in her teenage years . . . up until he died, her senior year.

Joanna realized then that the pens and supplies in the drawer were not Joshua Simpson’s, but Rod’s. Looking over to where he sat, she saw his eyes on her. He seemed compassionate and calm. She realized that tears were streaming down her face and she turned her head away, wiping the at tears. “I can’t believe you have this desk.”

“It holds many memories for me, too,” Rod said softly in understanding. “He left it to me when he died.”

“He was such a Godly man. . . . He meant so much to me . . . helped me to learn and see so much.” Joanna carefully rearranged the drawer and closed it, her eyes flicking to the computer, backing away from the memories before she felt too much, before she shared even more. “Is this yours?”

“Yeah,” Rod said and came over to her. For the next half hour, Rod led her through the many programs, and she played one of his games.

Joanna left out a small laugh as one of the enemy fish ate her small boat that she had tried to control safely to home. “I can’t believe you get any work done on this thing,” she turned and looked up at him, finding her face inches from his. He was leaning close to her, his arm reaching across her to the mouse, where he had been helping her through the program. The proximity brought awareness and panic.

Pushing away from the desk abruptly, Joanna stood, trying to regain control. “Shouldn’t we be going?”

“I guess so,” Rod replied, and Joanna tried not to read to much into his look . . . was he disappointed that she had not let him kiss her? Had he wanted to kiss her? Had she wanted him to kiss her?

Rod went back to his bedroom and Joanna stood waiting by the door. He emerged with two hats in his hands, a different Texas Ranger design on each. Without asking her, he slipped the hat on her head backwards and she surprised herself by laughing.

As much as Joanna had dreaded the game and being so close to Rod, she really did enjoy the night. The more time she spent around Rod, the better she felt. She stopped guarding her smiles and laughs. She jumped up and yelled with the rest of the crowd.

When the wave rolled around both she and Rod hopped up with the rest of the crowd. When the Ranger’s were behind one point, they both rooted and cheered at the top of their lungs. When a ball was hit in their direction, Joanna hopped up and tried her best to catch a ball that sailed a mile away. The season pass seats Rod’s friend had really were good ones.

Unknown to Joanna, Rod watched her carefully, smiling at her spirit. With the hat still on backwards and wearing cutoffs and a navy tee-shirt, she looked like a teenager again. He was beginning to love the look of her sparkling eyes and warm, laughing spirit. Several times that night he had wanted to take her in his arms and kiss the merry cheeks and smiling lips.

Please give me patience for Your time, Father. Boy, am I attracted, but I don’t want to rush her . . . Rod looked over at her again, smiling as she rolled her eyes at the umpire’s call . . . or hurt her. I’m afraid too many have hurt her in her life, including me, but I’m so attracted to this woman . . .

At the beginning of the seventh inning, two people from the stands walked down to the field to try their chance at hitting balls. Rod tapped her on the shoulder and whispered, “Maybe I could pull some strings and get you down there. I’m sure you could use a dinner for two.”

“And who would I take?” She asked him suspiciously, “You?”

“I’d say it would be a fair trade if I could pull the strings to get you down there.”

Joanna only shook her head and laughed as she looked around at the thousands of fans lining the stands, “Knowing me I’d pull a perfect strikeout.”

“You rarely did before,” Rod pointed out faithfully, “even when 50 scouts were at the game looking over Texas’s finest softball batter.”

“There were never 50 scouts at the games—one if I was lucky. I guess maybe I had something to prove then,” Joanna whispered, her eyes looking toward the people on the field, but deeper, lost in some world he was not a part of.

The Ranger’s were ahead by one at the bottom of the ninth inning and the Angel’s were up at bat. Joanna leaned forward in her seat and watched the right fielder catch the fly ball and sail it to the second baseman for a double play. Though she wanted the Ranger’s to win, part of her was not ready for the night to end.

Joanna pushed even further out of her chair, her concentration fixed as if the next play would determine her life. After a second strike and foul, the batter was determined. His sharp eyes looked to his batting coach and back to the pitcher. The pitcher released the ball and seconds later the batter swung. The ball skidded to right field, was scooped up and sent perfectly to the first baseman.

The game was over. The announcer came on with post game statistics and announcements and everyone stood to leave. Joanna sat stoically in her seat for a second before standing with Rod.

“I really had a good time,” she told him. “Thanks for talking me into coming, and for spending the whole night with me.”

“It was a chore, I assure you,” Rod teased, taking her hand in his to lead her out. Joanna did not resist. After their companionable time together, his larger, warm hand felt comforting around hers. She was no longer afraid.

Rod went through the McDonald’s drive-through and picked up some burgers, taking them back to his apartment. They sat at his kitchen table and talked over his business, her teaching job and coaching work and the homecoming activities. The company Joanna had hired to make the invitations had sent them over to his parent’s house so the two of them could stuff and address the envelopes to be sent in the Saturday mail.

“I have an afternoon meeting with two of the other Vice Presidents, but I’ll have the morning to help you,” Rod told Joanna with a hopeful smile. “And you wouldn’t believe how excited mom is about this. I think it makes her feel older in a way, since this dates me at 28.”

A boyish grin intercepted his handsome smile as he touched her cheek with the back of his fingertips, “Mom really is captivated with you. I think that’s why she wants to help us. She didn’t get to talk with you as much as she wanted to the last time you were there—she told me so.”

Joanna raised her eyebrows, not able to hide the uneasiness that filled her. “I’m sure she did—”

If his mom felt that way, how did he fill? She yawned suddenly and blinked her eyes against the force. The clock on the wall told her it was almost one in the morning and only then did she realize how long the day had been for her.

“I guess I need to be going,” she said uneasily, standing and pushing her chair in. “I can’t thank you enough for sharing your night with me. It’s been so long since I’ve been to a game.”

“We’ll do it again, but I won’t promise the tickets will be so great—”

“Rod,” Joanna said with embarrassment, “I wasn’t hinting—”

“I know you weren’t. It’s just that I want to take you to another game or eat hamburgers with you and talk about our lives . . . your life especially . . . .”

Feeling panicked, Joanna turned away from him and headed for the door. What was he saying . . . she had to be imagining it. She had no idea how to respond. “Well,” she said after swallowing, feeling rushed, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Joanna.”

The simple way Rod said her name stopped her as she reached the door. Rod reached out and gently turned her to face him, and this time, Joanna had no desire to pull away. He kissed her, his lips soft and searching, tentative for only a moment. He pulled away and drew her against his chest, his strong arms holding her close.

All the energy had evaporated out of Joanna and she let him hold her, comforted in his embrace. She leaned against him and eventually wrapped her arms around him and held on, afraid the moment would disappear into nothing. His heartbeat, beating strong so she could hear, soothed her.

Finally, knowing Joanna still had a drive ahead of her and that they both needed to get some sleep and spend some time in prayer, Rod pulled away, kissing her forehead softly before he let her go. “I’m meeting some friends early in the morning at the gym, so I’ll probably be home before you’re up.”

Trying to memorize her once more, Rod’s eyes held onto her, not ready to see her leave. Her eyes, he thought, when had those hazel eyes become so energized . . . so vital?

I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, she had said and he wondered if she doubted him. He opened the door for her and silently walked her to her car.

“Be careful,” he whispered as she climbed into the sedan. “And, Joanna,” he continued, leaning down into the car’s interior, “you don’t have to guess about seeing me tomorrow, you will,” he vowed, “see me.”


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