Chapter 20

© Copyright 2007 by Elizabeth Delayne

Matt and his family arrived early the next morning and Joanna mechanically helped them move into his old room, putting his children in her old room. Steven arrived with Jeff soon after and settled into the room they had shared until Matt left for college. The tension was nearly unbearable for her as she watched them slide around each other, never actually looking each other in the eye, never saying more to each other then what was expected.

She was relieved when they went ahead to the funeral home. They drove away in their separate cars, leaving Joanna when she pleaded with them to go on ahead of her, letting them think she needed time alone.

She knew better then to drop her news about Rod with Matt there to argue and the other two there to defend.

The doorbell rang, slicing through the quiet in the house. Joanna wiped the tears away from her cheeks, and nearly ran to the door, fumbling with the doorknob. Then she stopped, feeling cold.

“Dad ...”

After six years, Tom Berkley stood before his daughter meekly. Tears formed in his hazel eyes, the aging crow’s feet wrinkling, “Joey ...” he whispered, his stiff voice cracking.

Joanna stood stoic, her hands latching onto the door frame, fluttering against the wood. He was older, she thought, so much older. His hair was grey—sparse and thin, his skin pale and rough.

She wanted to shut the door—locking him and the changes out of her life, but she couldn’t. There were too many questions to ask, too many emotional hurdles in her life that needed to be jumped over. Weary, numb and cold, despite the hot July heat, she stepped back, watching as he hesitated before taking an uncertain step through the door.

He turned and met her eyes. “How are you, Joey?”

“I’m fine ...” Joanna told him mechanically. She shut the door and turned to face him, her hands nervously fumbling with her silk shirt.

“You ... heard about mom?”

“I ... yes,” Tom Berkley, always a coward, turned away. He lowered himself onto the sofa, lifeless, much like she had done yesterday. Joanna hated the way he looked—helpless, defeated. “I know you’re a little shocked—”

“I don’t know what I am,” she muttered, “you can’t know. How did you know about mom?”

He looked away, shamed, “Joey, your mother and I ... we’ve seen each other a few times since ... we didn’t plan it, we just ran into each other years ago now, had planned to start over when I—when we stabled out a bit ... ” his voice faded away as his eyes traveled across the room. Obviously seeing things so familiar was hard for him.

“But what about us?” she felt the words stumble out. “Why did you leave us? Why haven’t you been here?”

For me.

He didn’t respond—he seemed unable to respond.

Joanna sat down beside him, her arms crossed in front of her as she worked to gain some control. She needed time, just as much as her father did, her mind fuzzy with dream-like details.

Her father had come home. He’d seen her mother after they had separated—after they left their family. After they left her.

It simply came down to that—she realized. The pain of abandonment went back further then six years. Her parents had left her long before their bodies were physically gone.

They sat in silence for a long time, the memories and pain in between them. Joanna didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to say anything.

Tom finally mustered up his courage, turned and faced her, his eyes betraying his guilt. “I guess you’re a little surprised,” he muttered, looking away. “I suppose I was too. We never intended to see each other again. When we ran into each other, it was like ... seeing each other for the first time. If we could have pretended that there wasn’t a past in between us ... .”

“We kept in touch, not wanting to give in. Neither of us could let go of ... of the past. The disappointments. We destroyed ourselves when we were together. We destroyed our family, let the past get in the way. I had promised her more, much more then was in me to give. I had promised her love that I’m not capable of feeling—of receiving.”

He painted a picture that Joanna could see—two people who loved each other, unwilling to give again. She couldn’t sympathize with the picture, but she did see it. Her parents had built their own defenses, and as her father said, destroyed themselves.

Maybe he couldn’t deal with love, she thought, but he was home. She needed to deal with the reasons first.

“When did you last see mom? How was she?”

“I saw her in May,” he answered, slowly coming out of his grief. “She seemed fine. I didn’t stay for long, only long enough to give her some money,” his eyes were glazed over in the memory. “Your mother hasn’t been well in along time, but I never knew how sick she was. She never told me.”

“Then you knew of the cancer.”

“Yes,” he told her meekly, “I knew. The doctor called me when she lost consciousness. I wasn’t able to get there in time. My job—it kept me far away.”

“Was she alone when she died?”

Thomas shook his head. “Matt was with her.”

“Matt?” Joanna repeated. She couldn’t believe, didn’t want to believe ... and yet, she knew. She knew Matt.

“He couldn’t have. He—he’d been looking for her for years ...”

“Your mother and Matt have never been out of touch for long. I never saw him,” Tom’s weary head dipped in shame. “Matt never wanted to see me. Ann warned me to stay away when he was around.”

The emotions warred within her—anger, hurt, uncertainty—for her father, for oldest brother. “Matt ... he’s carrying around a lot of anger.”

“Don’t we all? You must carry around some too.”



She saw the way he was destroying himself now, slowly, painfully, and she nearly wept. He was still her father, she realized, and she was still his ‘Joe-bug,’ whether the relationship had remained in tact or not.

“Daddy, I love you,” Joanna whispered, her heart breaking as the words made their way from her heart. “I’ve never stopped.”

He froze, his eyes mirroring her earlier shock, before turning away, unable to accept her words, grieving because of what he had lost. She watched him, seeing the emptiness, attempting to separate the reality from the pain in her own heart.

Father, he needs to know You. Give me the words and open his heart to You so that he will hear You.

“I was angry for a long time—” she admitted slowly, giving her words time to be processed, “and maybe I’m still angry, and I know I don’t completely understand, but in the last month I’ve started to deal with some of the pain. You had no right to leave us. I understand that now. No right to believe that we didn’t need you, that we didn’t love you enough,” Joanna swallowed, examining her heart—felt the truth settle in. “In the last month, God has been working in me. I was in such pain because I never saw myself worthy of anything, even love, especially God’s complete love.”

“You sound just like Steven,” Tom started, his eyes sharp as they would have been years before. Then the look changed, softened, the anger relinquishing, shifting, leaving emptiness. “No, you don’t. The words—you say the same words, but you sound different ...”

He sighed, his heart full of words he didn’t know how to say. “I didn’t deserve you. I didn’t deserve to have you.”

“You gave me life,” Joanna reminded him. “You never had to deserve me.”

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me, Joey. You and Steven, Jeff and Matt. It scared me to love you as much as I did ... and I could never be more proud. You graduated in the top of your class, graduated from college, have held a job,” he reached out and touched her cheek with his hand. It was warm and rough, trembling with emotion and age. “You’ve turned into such a beautiful woman.”

Joanna wanted to weep—felt tears on her cheeks.

“Am I?” she whispered, reaching for his hand, “I tried so hard to be worthy of everything. I wanted to be good enough for you and momma, even for God. Yet, that’s the strange thing about love—what you and momma never seemed to understand. You don’t have to prove yourself or be good enough for it. Love means accepting people—accepting who they are, even when you want more or better for them. I know that now.”

“Joey, God can’t accept me. I’ve done nothing. I am nothing.”

“You are something! God never creates nothing. It’s not what you’ve done with your life, it’s what you let God do with you that matters.” Joanna watched her dad and felt something inside of her move.

He’s listening, she realized with a start. Her father was listening to her—really listening.

Oh, Father, please help me. Daddy needs to know You—more than anything else he’s ever known.

“God loves you, just as he loves me and mom, Steven, Jeff, Matt ... You don’t have to prove anything to Him, you only have to accept God and believe that He loves you ... believe that He loved you so much that He died for you and know that conquered death so that you may know him for the rest of your life, so He can help you and carry you and ... and love you.”

“No—no.” He didn’t want to believe. “That’s not right—it’s too good to be true.”

“Just answer me this,” Joanna suddenly asked, not letting herself think further than the question. “If I hadn’t made it to the top percentage of my class, or if had never hit a baseball. If I had dropped out of school, would you still love me?”

Tom turned and looked at Joanna, tears flowing out of his eyes.

“You, Ann, the rest of the kids were everything to me. That’s why I left, so I wouldn’t hurt you. I was hurting you. I lost control. I just couldn’t hang on to anything anymore.”

Something sparked in Tom’s eyes as the impact of his own words settled into his heart. God loved him like he loved his children, but only more. If what Joanna said was true ... where would he be? He knew he had failed his kids and had failed God, but God had not failed him.

Was it true? Could God love even him?

He met Joanna’s eyes. “Is it true, Joey?” he asked. “Could God love even me?”

“Daddy,” Joanna said softly, her heart soaring so high that she felt the anger and the hurt slip away, “No one is perfect. Not me, not Steven or Jeff or ...”

Not Joshua Simpson. Joanna knew where the thought came from and sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward.

“I’m going to show you something someone once showed me. It comes from the Bible. For me to believe in God—to understand fully that He really loved even me—I had to hear it,” she went and retrieved her Bible, flipping through the pages even as the memorized verse ran freely through her mind. She wanted her father to see the evidence—she wanted him to know where it came from.

She sat beside him and held the Bible open for him, pointing to the verse, “Jesus says here, ‘Are not two sparrows 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 so she could see her father’s eyes, “‘So don't be afraid; you are worth more than the sparrows.’"

Tom just sat there, looking at her, stunned—and yet, almost ... almost understanding. He glanced wearily at the Bible, then once more at her, “Joey,” he began, the words barely working themselves around his parched throat. “I can’t think—it’s ... the words, your words are so ... beautiful, but your mother. I loved your mother and ... .” his voice trailed away.

Feeling a little panicked, Joanna opened her mouth, wanting to plead with him when the doorbell rang. Matt ... she nearly panicked before she realized that her brothers would never knock when they were staying with her. If it wasn’t Matt or Steven—it would be Rod.

Worry was in his eyes when she opened the door. He reached out and took her in his arms, holding on when her arms came around him to cling. “Joanna,” he whispered against her hair, “you’re okay. I couldn’t stop praying for you. God hasn’t let go of me all morning. I’ve felt this intense burning ... like something was wrong. Are you okay? I—”

She knew, before she looked, that he recognized her father. She swallowed, feeling her heart swell with love.

“Rod Kirkland,” she said slowly, bringing him out of his stupor. “I would like you to meet my father, Tom Berkley.”


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