Reflections Chapter 16-Broken Hearted Part 1, a castle fanfic

Chapter 16 – What Becomes of the Broken Hearted – Part 1

"Do you work here?" a voice asked Jim; causing him to look up from the file he had been examining as he walked to his office.

"Yes, what can I do for you?" he answered.

"I'm trying to find my sister; she works here," Frank McKenzie Jr. stated.

"Who's your sister?"

"Johanna McKenzie."

Jim eyed him; so this was the older brother, he thought to himself. He had the same hair color as Johanna and they shared the curve of their chins but other than that, he didn't see much of a resemblance. "You must be Frankie."

The comment caught her brother off guard and his brow rose. "Who are you?"

"Jim Beckett."

Recognition lit the other man's eyes. "Oh, you're the boyfriend."

Jim shook his head. "No; I'm just a friend."

"Did you drop her off at our parents house the night before our sister's wedding?"

"Yes."

Frankie nodded. "That's what I thought. I saw the two of you that day; it looked way more than friendly in that car. It looks like I get to kill two birds with one stone with this visit."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jim asked.

"It means I want to know what you have going on with my sister."

"We're friends."

"I didn't buy that story from her."

"It's the truth."

"That's why you were kissing her, right?"

"I don't think it's any of your business," Jim replied.

"She's my sister; that makes her my business."

"I think she'd beg to differ."

"Well I never really cared much about what she thinks. I'm her brother so therefore I'm justified. That's just the way it is. Johanna annoys the hell out of me sometimes but I'm not going to stand by and let someone use her."

"I'm not using her!" Jim exclaimed in a quiet voice.

"You better not be because I won't put up with that. She's not the greatest thing in the universe. She has her faults but she's better than Colleen and I'm stuck with her anyway. She's sensitive; she's not the type of woman you can toy with."

"Are you through?" Jim asked; wondering if Johanna knew that this side of her brother existed.

"No," Frankie stated. "You better treat my sister with respect."

"You're a fine one to talk about respect, you just stood there and insulted her by implying that she's beneath you; when in reality, I'm sure she's worth ten of you," Jim stated firmly; "And another thing, she's told me about you."

"I bet she has," he laughed; "But you should keep in mind that Mouthy holds a grudge."

"I can't imagine why," he said sarcastically.

Frankie smiled. "You're a little defensive of her, aren't you? Good. I'll take that as a good sign. Where is Johanna?"

"What do you want with her?"

"I have to give her a message."

"Call her."

"Mom said to deliver it in person."

"Oh, taking orders from your mother, are you?"

Frankie smirked. "Just tell me where she is."

"I don't know if I should," Jim replied.

"What do you think I'm going to do to her?"

"I don't know; I hear you were responsible for breaking her arm when she was little."

"Christ," he exclaimed; "Is she still harping on that?"

Jim said nothing as he continued to eye him. He was sure that Frankie wouldn't hurt her in any way but he couldn't resist tormenting the man.

"Look, I'm not going to do anything to her. I don't hit women. Sure we beat each other up when we were kids but that was different, she wasn't a woman then...just an annoying brat. That's all in the past. If you want to guard her while I talk to her, go for it."

"Are you going to upset her?"

"Probably," Frankie answered; "But it's not because I want to...it's about our grandfather."

Jim knew that Johanna had been going to see her grandfather a great deal in the weeks following Colleen's wedding; and she had been doing so mainly at the man's request. He also knew that she had mentioned that he didn't seem to be doing well health wise. "It's not good, is it?" he asked.

Frankie shook his head. "No, so maybe you better stick around anyway... I have a feeling you're the person she's been running to when things are bad."

"Follow me," he replied as he turned and headed in the direction of Johanna's office.

As Jim stepped into Johanna's office; Sharon looked up from her desk. "Is Johanna in?" he asked.

"She'll be back in a minute, she went to get a cup of coffee," she answered as Frankie stepped into the room behind him. "Oh God, what are you doing here?" she asked with a frown.

Frankie smirked. "It's nice to see you too."

"I knew the day was going too smoothly," she muttered. "Are you here to torment your sister? If you are, just know that we can and will kick your ass."

He scoffed. "Why don't you like me, Sharon?"

"Because you're a jackass."

Jim laughed as movement at the doorway caught his eye and Johanna stepped inside. "I found something that belongs to you," he told her; gesturing towards her brother.

Johanna glanced at her brother and then back to Jim. "Actually he belongs to my mother."

"Do you want me to send him back?"

She smiled. "I better find out what it's about before I make that decision. What are you doing here, Frankie?"

"Mom sent me; she wasn't sure if you'd talk to her if she called."

Johanna tensed; sensing that something wasn't quite right as she sat her cup down on Sharon's desk. "What's wrong?"

He hesitated for the briefest moment which put her even more on edge. "It's about Grandpa...he's taken a turn for the worst."

"I just saw him," she stated.

"I know, Aunt Bridget said you had been by a lot, but she had to call an ambulance for him the day before yesterday. He has some kind of infection in his lungs and it's weakened his heart."

Dread filled her. "But he's going to be okay?" she asked; praying it would be true, but knowing in her heart that it wouldn't be.

Her brother shook his head. "He's not going to make it, Jo."

She sucked in a breath; her eyes burning with the tears that instantly sprang to them. "They don't know that for sure...he could improve."

"No," Frankie stated; hating that he had to be the one to do this. "He's not going to improve, Sis. He's not even fighting it. Mom says he's in and out memory wise; he only knows who they are half the time and the other half he's asking where Sarah is. He's asked for you, you need to go to the hospital as soon as you can. Aunt Margaret got here this morning; she's staying with Mom and Dad. Uncle Colin is supposed to get here this afternoon."

She nodded numbly as she tried to absorb it all. "I...I need to know what hospital and the room number."

He pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. "All the information is there."

Johanna accepted the paper and lowered her head as her friends remained silent and her brother rocked on his heels. "Jo, I didn't want to do this to you at work; honestly I didn't. I stopped by your apartment this morning, hoping I could catch you before you left but you were already gone and I had two meetings this morning and things to take care of that was on Dad's schedule. I would've waited until after work but Mom called to see if I had gotten a hold of you yet and she said that I needed to get it done...I took my break in hopes of catching you between your meetings because I didn't want to chance waiting too long."

She raised her head to look at him. "It's okay," she assured. "I appreciate that you came. As soon I finish up here today, I'll head to the hospital...if you hear anything in the meantime, let me know."

"I will," he promised.

She blew out a breath as she met Frankie's eye once again. He wasn't used to breaking bad news...that was there mother's job...and he really wasn't used to the feeling of needing to hug his sister. They didn't do that sort of thing; unless of course their mother forced them to, but today he made a concession and stepped forward and pulled his little sister into a hug that she returned without hesitation. It was brief, but meaningful to both of them; although they were each sure that the other would never admit it...not that they'd ever mention it.

"Are you going to be okay?" Frankie asked as he pulled away from her.

"Yeah," she replied; although she doubted it.

He gave a hint of a smile as if he knew better. "I'll see you later."

"See you later," Johanna stated as she watched him turn towards Jim and held his hand out to him.

"You can take over now," Frankie said as Jim accepted his hand and shook it.

He nodded; his gaze darting towards Johanna for a second. "I'll look after her."

"I don't doubt it," he stated; giving his sister one last look before he said goodbye and left.

Jim moved towards her and wrapped her in his embrace. "I'm sorry, Jo."

A soft cry tore from her throat and he glanced to Sharon. "She has two hours before she's due in court," she stated.

"Any appointments before that?"

"No, we kept it clear for paperwork."

Jim pulled away from her long enough to guide her towards the door to the inner office. "I have a meeting in forty-five minutes...let me know when I'm down to ten minutes."

Sharon nodded and gave Johanna a sad smile. "Don't worry, Jim; I'll take over while you're away."

After work, Johanna made a quick stop at home to change clothes and drop off her briefcase and then she headed to the hospital. She tired to prepare herself for whatever awaited her as she walked down the long hospital corridor. As she neared Patrick's room, she could hear voices coming from within and she paused, prolonging the inevitable. She could just imagine what the next several days would hold and how she'd take her place among the line of grandchildren that would make the trek each day to say a long goodbye. She exhaled a breath and stepped inside the room, going unnoticed until Patrick turned his head in her direction and smiled.

"There you are, Sarah," he stated.

A sad smile touched her lips as she approached the bed, a gentle correction on the tip of her tongue but her father beat her to it.

"That's Johanna, Dad," he stated gruffly.

The old man's features clouded with confusion as her studied her while she took his hand. "Hi, Grandpa."

"Johanna?" he repeated as he tried to reconcile the notion.

"Yes," she said with a nod; "Your granddaughter."

His eyes cleared some as his hand tightened around hers. "Josie."

"That's right," Johanna replied. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he replied but she noticed that his breathing was more labored than it had been the last time she saw him. "They're making a fuss over me."

She smiled. "Well don't you think you're entitled to a little fuss once in awhile?"

Patrick scoffed. "The only person I let fuss over me was your grandmother."

"She was privileged, was she?"

The old man smiled. "She just did what she wanted whether you wanted her to or not."

"Good for her," Johanna said with soft laugh.

Patrick's gaze shifted to his son. "Frank...you remember your promise."

He held his father's gaze and nodded. "I remember," he stated; thinking of the carved wooden box that his father had insisted he unearth from the attic the week before. Ire burned in his stomach as he thought of that box that was full of his mother's belongings that Patrick had made him promise to give to Johanna once he was gone. He had taken the box home and hid it in the garage...but she'd never get it. He just couldn't give it to her, not now, maybe not ever. He hated the intrusion of his mother's ghost into his life. Why couldn't he have peace from her? His gaze darted back to his daughter.

"You took your sweet time getting here," Frank stated. "Your brother and sister have done been here and gone for the day."

"I got here as soon as I could, Dad."

"You haven't even spoken to your aunts and uncle," he went on; gesturing to the people sharing the room with him. "I know your mother taught you manners but you sure as hell don't act like you have any."

"Leave her alone, Frank," Bridget said firmly. "You can't fault her for wanting to speak to her grandfather first."

Johanna closed her eyes for a moment. She hadn't even been in the room for ten minutes and she had already angered her father. She shook it off. It was just the stress and the knowledge of what was to come. She had always been her father's favorite whipping post, and it looked like she would continue to be for the duration. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to slight anyone."

"Oh you haven't," her aunt Margaret said as she came forward to hug her. "Just ignore him."

That was easier said than done, Johanna thought as she then hugged her aunt Bridget and then said hello to her Uncle Colin.

"Sarah," Patrick said as he squeezed her hand.

"That isn't Sarah," Frank said sharply. "That is your granddaughter."

"I'm sorry, Josie," her grandfather said as he looked up at her with tired brown eyes.

"That's okay," she told him; bringing his hand to her lips and pressing a kiss against it. "I don't mind."

"Well I do," her father muttered.

"Frank, why don't you go get a drink or something while Johanna has her visit," Bridget stated. "God knows I could use a break from looking at your face."

"Like yours is anything to brag about," he retorted.

"Hey," Patrick said firmly; "Act like you got some damn sense. I won't have people thinking your mother raised a pack of heathens."

"She didn't raise us," Frank replied; "Grandmother did."

Anger sparked in Patrick's eyes as he pointed a finger at his son. "Don't you dare speak that way about your mother! She bore you and she raised you the first eight years of your life and she would've gone on doing so if she'd been able. I won't have you speaking of her that way. Do you hear me?"

"Come on, Frank," Colin said as he got up from his chair. "Let's go out for awhile."

Frank shot a glare at his daughter but followed his older brother from the room. Patrick glanced at Johanna, "I'm sorry about the boy, Sarah. They get like that when they reach a certain age. Don't you worry though; I'll take him out back and knock it out of him if he doesn't mind his manners."

Tears filled her eyes; his mind just couldn't stay focused on the present for too long it seemed and she had no idea what to do.

"Don't worry, honey," Margaret stated. "It's not your fault that his mind keeps drifting. He doesn't realize what he's saying."

Bridget took her father's unoccupied hand, being mindful of the IV lines. "It's okay, Dad. Mama knows that Frank was just being himself."

"I'm going to take a strap to that boy," Patrick stated. "He'll learn."

Johanna smiled. "I'd kind of like to see that."

"Wouldn't we all," Bridget laughed.

"Johanna," a voice said from behind her.

She turned and came face to face with her mother. "Mom," she replied.

"It's good to see you, dear…even if the circumstances aren't the best."

Johanna bobbed her head in agreement. "It's nice to see you too."

"How have you been?" Naomi asked.

"Fine. How are you?"

"I'm fine…I've missed you."

She didn't quite know what to say and it was strange to feel so awkward with her mother. She could tell that her mother seemed to feel the same way, as she remained in place, wringing her hands as she kept her gaze locked on her.

"Where's your father?" Naomi inquired.

"He and Colin went out for awhile. We had to get him off Johanna's back," Bridget answered.

"I got here as soon as I could," Johanna said once again.

"Of course you did," her mother replied. "I know that Frankie didn't even get to you until nearly noon. I'm sure your schedule was full."

Was that an accusation or was she still sensitive from those comments her mother had made back in May? She wasn't sure. Maybe the wound was still a little raw.

"You'll have to try to bear with your father, Johanna," Naomi stated; regret coloring her tone.

"I know…I have to bear a lot of things lately."

Naomi lowered her gaze for a moment; debating about accusations just as Johanna had done. "I'm glad you're here."

"Did you think I wouldn't be?"

"Of course I didn't think that. I know you love your grandfather and would come to be at his side."

Johanna sighed; this wasn't going to be easy...of course she had known that as soon as Frankie had broken the news...but she had only been thinking in terms of her grandfather then...now she had to think about her parents as well. Two hours passed and Frank and Colin returned. Johanna didn't want to spend any more time in her father's presence for the evening and so she kissed her grandfather's cheek and promised to be back the next day.

When he smiled and said "Goodnight, Sarah", she smiled and hurried away before Frank could lose his tempter again.

Tears burned her eyes as she waited for a taxi. It felt like her life was spiraling out of control again...and there wasn't anything she could to stop it. She just had to find something to hold on to until the motion stopped. She took a deep breath of the warm summer air...it just wasn't her season.

Seven days in to Patrick's hospital stay, Johanna once again found herself making the daily trek to his room. Her aunts were present and so was her mother, as was the doctor who was busing himself with checking her grandfather's vitals. Patrick's head turned in her direction and he smiled.

"Sarah," he said; lifting a shaky hand and holding it out to her.

Johanna moved towards him and took his hand as she kissed his cheek.

"Where have you been, Sarah?"

Her smile faded a bit; yesterday he had known who she was...for a few minutes anyway. "It's Johanna, Grandpa," she corrected.

He chuckled. "Now don't be silly."

She looked to her mother who was sitting in a chair across the room. "He doesn't know what he's saying," Naomi whispered.

"Did you walk the children home from school?" Patrick asked while the doctor listened to his lungs.

"I'm not Sarah. I'm your granddaughter. I'm Johanna."

His face hardened, a flicker of temper flashing in his eyes. "Damn it, Sarah, I know who the hell you are! If you want to play games with the children that's fine; but don't play them with me!"

"Just go along with it, Johanna," Bridget told her.

"But..."

"No buts, Sarah," Patrick said firmly. "Are you trying to make me angry with you? I hate to be angry with you. You always get that look on your face that makes me feel like the biggest heel in the world."

"Don't you worry, Mr. McKenzie," the doctor stated. "I think I can cure her of her stubbornness for you."

"Good luck to you, lad. The lass can be as stubborn as the day is long when it suits her."

The doctor looked to Johanna. "May I speak to you outside?"

She nodded and he gestured for Bridget and Margaret to follow.

"Miss McKenzie is it?" he asked once they were outside the door.

"Yes."

"I take it that Sarah was his wife?"

The three women nodded in response.

"Miss McKenzie, your grandfather is dying. While we're treating his condition, there's really nothing we can do for him. It's too far advanced and he doesn't have the strength to fight it. All we can do is keep him comfortable."

Tears filled her eyes. She knew they were losing him but it was hard to hear it put so bluntly. "I've been told by your aunts that he's been having these memory lapses for some time now...and that he mistakes people for someone else...especially you."

"Yes, but once I correct him, he's usually fine," Johanna replied.

"You're not going to be able to correct him anymore," he said gently. "Between the medication and the illness and the fact that this has been going on previously, he's only going to believe the delusions that he's convinced of…"

"But yesterday he knew who I was for a few minutes."

"I'm not saying he won't have moments of clarity; but when he's in one of these states, it's best to let it run its course. You must look or sound like his Sarah and he either thinks she's here or that he's in the past with her. I think it would be best for you to go along with him. The more you tried to correct him, the more agitated he got and that's not good for him. His heart is already weakened. He doesn't need added strain."

Johanna glanced to her aunts. "What should I do?" she asked them.

"I think you should do what the doctor says," Margaret stated.

Bridget nodded in agreement. "It won't do any harm to answer to the name he calls you."

She exhaled slowly as she debated the situation internally. Finally she bobbed her head in agreement. "Alright...if it's best for him; I'll just play along when he calls me by her name."

"You're doing the right thing," the doctor assured.

"I hope so," she murmured as they reentered the room.

"Well?" Patrick asked as he looked at her.

"I'm sorry I made you angry," Johanna told him as she took a seat in the chair next to his bed. "I'm through being silly now."

Her grandfather smiled. "That's good; you save the silliness for when you're playing with the children. Tell me about your day."

She panicked; she had no idea how Sarah McKenzie had spent her days; although she assumed she most likely spent them as a housewife. "Oh I just did the usual cooking and cleaning," she answered. "Tell me about your day; I'm sure it was far more interesting than mine."

Margaret gave her a wink, telling her she had done well as Patrick began talking about a job he hadn't done in years.

A few hours later, Frank and his brother were back in the room and Patrick had woke from the nap he had been taking.

"Sarah," Patrick said as he gripped Johanna's hand. "Are the children home from school?"

She smiled sadly; a small pain ripping through her heart as she realized once again just how lost in his memories he was. She glanced to Bridget who gave her a small smile and a reassuring nod. "Yes, they're home," she answered.

Frank's gaze snapped toward his daughter. She hadn't done what he thought…had she? Surely she didn't just answer to that name. But then she answered to his mother's name again and he was instantly enraged. How dare she? He crossed the room in an instant, grabbing her arm roughly as he jerked her out of the chair.

"Dad!" she exclaimed at his rough treatment.

"Outside now," he hissed as he dragged her towards the door.

"What the hell are you trying to pull?" Frank asked once they were in the hallway and he had jerked her around to face him.

"What?" she asked as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp; but it only made him tighten his hold.

"You know what!" he said angrily. "Why the hell are you answering to a name that isn't yours?"

"Because the doctor told me to."

"Liar!" he bellowed; his tone rising as he shook her a little.

"I'm not lying," Johanna replied. "I tried to correct Grandpa but he kept insisting I was Sarah and he was getting upset. The doctor was there and he said for me to just go along with it because it's not good for him to be upset."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't give a damn if you believe me or not. Let go of me, you're hurting me."

"Good," Frank declared as his eyes glittered with undisclosed anger. "I hope it does hurt. Maybe that's the only way to get through to you."

"Dad, please," she said; trying unsuccessfully to pull her arm from his painful grip. If he didn't let go soon, she'd be forced to sink her fingernails into his hand and she could just image what she'd get in retaliation for that.

"What you're doing is disgusting," he seethed. "You have no right!"

"Let go of me."

"Mr. McKenzie," the doctor stated from behind him. "Let go of your daughter's arm or I'll call security and have you removed."

Frank dropped his hand from Johanna's arm and she took a step back as he spun around to face the doctor. "Did you tell her to lie to my father?"

"I asked her to go along with him when he believes that she's someone else. Correcting him, or at least attempting to, agitates him and he can not be as agitated as he was earlier. It isn't good for his heart…"

"Lying to him isn't good for him either," Frank interrupted.

"Your father no longer knows the difference. He's been having these problems with his memory for awhile now from what I've been told by the family…and coupled with his illness and medication; it isn't going to get any better. You can't force him to know the present from the past when his mind is operating at a diminished capacity. There isn't much we can do for him; recovery is unlikely as I told you before, but there's no reason to rush him into his grave over something as miniscule as calling his granddaughter by his wife's name. She's doing him no harm and he's calm like he needs to be."

Frank scoffed. "You're lying to a dying man and that's despicable in my opinion."

"You're free to think what you want," the doctor stated; "But your sisters were agreeable to the idea. If you continue to be disruptive, I'll have no choice but to have you removed. I won't allow you to upset that man in there; and I won't allow you to manhandle your daughter like that either."

Frank scowled as he shook his head. "Unbelievable."

"Yes, it is quite unbelievable that you'd throw such a fit about something that benefits your father's welfare."

"I didn't ask your opinion," he retorted before turning back to Johanna, who was rubbing her arm where had gripped it. "Stop rubbing your arm like I broke it," he demanded. "It's fine. Now you get in there and answer to your given name and nothing else; do you hear me?"

"I hear you," she replied; but that didn't mean she'd listen.

She re-entered the room ahead of him and retook her seat next to Patrick's bed.

"You look sad, Sarah," Patrick remarked as he looked at her. "Is something wrong with the children?"

"I'm warning you, Johanna," Frank said menacingly.

Bridget had overheard most of the conversation in the hallway and she shot her brother a pointed look which he ignored.

"The children are fine," Johanna answered; making her decision based on what was best for Patrick. "I'm just tired."

Patrick raised a frail shaky hand and brushed a finger against her cheek. "You go on to bed then," he told her. "I'll be along later; I want to read the paper first."

"Okay," she said; managing a smile for him despite the tears that were filling her eyes. She was ready to get out of there for awhile anyway. She grabbed her purse and rose from the chair, pausing at his bedside long enough to kiss his cheek. "Goodnight," she told him.

"Goodnight, darling," her grandfather replied.

She said a quick goodbye to her relatives and then fled the room, her father's glare boring into her back as she went.

Johanna was sure that she looked as weary as she felt as Jim opened his door that evening; his gaze studying her face, assessing whatever it was that her eyes laid bare for him.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he shut the door behind her.

"Yeah…it's just exhausting in some ways," she answered as she sat down her purse.

Jim glimpsed a few purple marks on her arm and frowned; "What did you do to your arm?"

She tensed; her hand straying to her arm. She hadn't realized that her father had left a mark. If she had, she wouldn't have stopped by. "I…I don't know how it happened. I must've bumped into something and didn't realize it."

She was lying, he thought to himself and he gently reached out and caught her wrist as she tried to walk away. He stepped closer to her and examined the bruises that were just slightly above her elbow. "You didn't bump into something," he stated. "These look like fingerprints."

"They're not," she insisted.

"Johanna, I know what a fingerprint looks like. Now who grabbed a hold of you and left marks on you?"

"No one."

"Johanna," he said; his tone brokering no room for argument.

"He didn't mean to do it," she said hurriedly; knowing he was growing angry at the idea that someone had hurt her.

"Who?" Jim demanded.

"My father. He didn't mean to leave a mark."

"Your father! Why the hell did he do this to you?"

"He didn't mean to," she said once again. "He was just mad at me. He didn't realize he was hurting me that badly."

"Somehow I doubt that," Jim said as he glanced at the marks on her arm and then let her go. "What was he mad about?"

She explained to him the situation with her grandfather and how angry Frank had gotten about the whole thing. She was speaking quickly; her emotions in turmoil as reality had set in after speaking to the doctor. "He's going to die, Jim," she said; her tears breaking free.

"I know, sweetheart," he replied as she buried herself in his arms and sobbed against his chest.

"I know Frankie told me that he was going to; but…"

"But you thought maybe they were wrong," he supplied for her. "You had hope."

She nodded. "But I don't now…the doctor told me…"

"Shhh," he soothed; rubbing his hands over her back, allowing her to cry it out.

"It's not like I haven't lost someone before," Johanna said once she began to calm.

"It doesn't matter," Jim told her as he led her to the couch. "It always hurts no matter how many people you lose…and maybe it hurts more when you know it's coming."

"Yeah…it's like pulling a band-aid off really slow…it just keeps pulling and hurting until it's off and even then, there's a sting left over for awhile."

Her chin trembled as she tried to get a hold of herself. "It hurts knowing that he doesn't always know who I am…he thinks I'm Sarah…and if the only thing I can do for him now is answer to her name; then I have to do that."

"You're right," Jim remarked. "If that's what's best for him; then that's what needs to be done. You're not doing it to be cruel, Jo. You're just trying to help and keep him from harming himself by getting so upset; and if your father can't understand that…then that's his problem and he ought to be ashamed of wanting to deny his father that comfort."

"He doesn't like his mother to be brought up," she replied. "She died when he was young. I don't know if they didn't have a good relationship or if he's just never forgiven her for dying…but the mere mention of her name just enrages him."

"Did your grandfather talk about her a lot?"

"No," Johanna answered. "He's mentioned her more now than he ever has. He never seemed to want to talk about her either if he could help it."

"Well, I think your Dad is going to find it hard to avoid the mention of his mother now."

"I know; and every time he calls me by her name, he's just going to get angrier. He says it's disgusting."

"It's not," Jim assured. "There's nothing disgusting about trying to help your grandfather."

Johanna leaned into him; seeking out his embrace once again. "I feel like I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't."

"You have to make the choice that you know you can live with," he replied.

"I know…and I think I can live with my father's anger easier than living with the thought that I had denied my grandfather something in his last days."

"Then the choice is made. You do what you feel is best, just like you always do."

She fisted his shirt as she held on to him. "Oh God this is terrible."

"I know; and I wish I knew some way to make it easier for you."

"Just hold me," she murmured. "It's the only thing that comes to mind when I think of needing to feel better in some way."

His arms wrapped around her tightly. "Anytime you need it, sweetheart. All you have to do is say the word."

She was quiet as she remained cuddled against him and he pressed a kiss against her head as he struggled to push aside the anger that was still surging through his veins every time he thought of the bruises on her arm. Frank McKenzie might have a problem with every thing that was going on, but that didn't give him any right to abuse his daughter in his anger. He would've loved to have walked up behind the man while he had a hold her…Frank would've needed a doctor of his own.

Two days after the decision had been made for her to play along with her grandfather's whims, Johanna walked into his room and returned the smile he gave her before greeting her aunts and her parents.

"Where did you go, Sarah?" Patrick asked as she took the chair next to his bed.

She wondered briefly if he realized that she had been gone since the evening before or if he had lost the sense of time and thought she had been gone for a short while. "I...I just stepped away for a moment," she answered; stammering slightly as she took on the role.

Patrick smiled. "You were looking out the window again, weren't you?"

"Yes," she lied; "That's what I was doing."

The old man chuckled softly. "You were looking for that mockingbird again, weren't you, Sarah?"

Bridget gave her a nod and an encouraging smile. "Yes, I thought I heard him somewhere nearby...but I didn't see him."

He squeezed her hand. "You're always so fascinated by that silly bird."

"Oh I don't think he's silly at all," Johanna said with a smile. "I think he must be very clever to be able to mimic the calls of all the other birds."

Frank's head snapped up so quickly at the statement that it was a wonder he didn't get whiplash from the motion. His daughter's answer struck him like a sucker punch to the gut as an old memory breeched the barriers and flooded his mind.

The first touches of pink were just beginning to color the sky as six year old Frank McKenzie helped his mother pull vegetables from the garden to be used for dinner. The nearby song of a bird brought a smile to his mother's lips and her green eyes sparkled as she looked at him.

"Do you hear him, Frank?" she asked. "That's our mockingbird; he's come to sing for us."

"I hear him, Mama."

"Where is he?" Sarah asked; shielding her eyes against the slowly sinking sun.

"Over there!" Frank exclaimed; pointing a small finger. "He's on the fence post."

She smiled. "I should have known; that's his usual spot."

"How come he flies around like that?" Frank asked as the mockingbird did its usual dance of lifting himself into the air to flutter around before landing on the post once again to sing his variety of songs.

"Because he's a showman," Sarah replied; her soft musical laugh filling his ear as she tugged him down onto her lap, not caring that her dress would be filthy when she got up. "Our mockingbird likes to entertain us; it gives him joy to show off. He's a happy creature."

"Are we going to put out more bread crumbs for him?" Frank asked; his dirty hand finding his mother's.

"Of course we will; that way he'll keep coming back to visit us. We'll have to wait until he leaves though; we don't want to frighten him."

Frank laughed. "He doesn't seem like he'd be afraid. I saw him chase a black bird yesterday!"

"You did?" she said in surprise; a smile curving her lips as her eyes gleamed with affection. "Well then he's a brave bird indeed; and a fine friend. He probably kept that black bird from helping himself to the tomatoes."

"You think he scared away that black bird because he likes us, Mama?"

Sarah gave a nod. "I bet that's the case."

"Are you two watching that silly bird again?" Patrick's voice asked as he slipped through the back gate.

Sarah's head tilted to the side as she eyed him. "Oh I don't think he's silly at all," she remarked. "I think he must be very clever."

"Well I think he's silly," Patrick replied as he ruffled his son's hair.

"You can think what you want," Sarah replied as she hugged her son to her. "But Frank and I like him and consider him a friend. Isn't that right?"

Her son nodded as he peered up at his father. "He saved the tomatoes, Daddy."

Patrick smiled. "Well then I guess he's earned his keep."

Sarah laughed and gave Frank a gentle nudge. "Run into the house and tell Margaret to give you that stale bread heel I put on the shelf. Break it up small and put it on the sidewalk for him."

Frank managed to shove the memory back, anger slamming into him as he glanced at his daughter; her head tilted to the side, a smile on her lips. She had uttered the same statement his mother had and it infuriated him. It was as if Sarah McKenzie's ghost had possessed his daughter's soul...and for a moment he wasn't seeing Johanna in that chair; he was seeing his mother. It took concentrated effort to remind himself that the young woman was indeed his child as emotion flooded him.

He hated Sarah...and in that moment he hated his daughter as well. Hated her for looking like her, sounding like her and saying the same things she had said. She was answering to the woman's name, playacting against his wishes. He wanted to rush towards her and shake her or strike her; anything to drive the ghost of Sarah from her spirit. He despised his own child so much in that instant and it only increased the ire he had for his mother...the woman he had loved and adored so much...the woman who had left him. His hands curled into fists; he had to get out of there. He had to leave the room before he did something he'd regret or something Naomi would kill him for later. He pushed away from the wall; fury written in his stride, his dark eyes nearly black with anger as he glared at his daughter. He stormed down the hallway, the sound of heels clacking behind him as his wife hurried to catch up with him.

"Frank, what's wrong?" Naomi asked when she caught up to him.

"Ask your daughter," he stated; his tone low and menacing.

"What has she done now?"

"She's allowed Sarah McKenzie to take over her soul."

Naomi looked at him with disbelief. "Frank...that's ridiculous."

He shook his head. "No it isn't...she's in her...Johanna's acting just like her, saying the same things she used to say."

"I'm sure it was a coincidence whatever it was."

"No it wasn't," he stated firmly. "I have to get away from her...if I don't; I'll hurt her, Naomi."

"No you won't," she retorted. "I won't let you."

"I'm telling you that I can't be near her right now. I don't want to be tempted."

His wife nodded. "Let me get my purse and we'll go."

Frank leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Why did his mother have to haunt him? Why did she have to live on in his child when she had our granddaughters that he wouldn't have to see more than once a year? He couldn't take this...it was bad enough to face the coming loss of his father; he shouldn't have to deal with his mother's memory as well.

In the middle of the second week of Patrick's illness; Johanna sat across the table from Jim during lunch. He was watching her subtly as she picked at her food. He couldn't help but worry about her; this situation with her grandfather seemed to be taking its toll.

"You okay?" he asked.

His voice startled her and pulled her from her thoughts. "What?"

"I asked if you were okay," he repeated.

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem all that fine, Jo."

She gave him a hint of a smile. "I'm sorry I was distracted. I'm being bad company."

"I'm not worried about that. What's on your mind?"

She sighed. "A little bit of everything."

"Anything I can help with?"

Johanna thought about it for a moment. "Can you look over a report for me? I'm afraid I might've missed something."

"Sure; that isn't a problem. Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Is something wrong with your food?" Jim asked.

"No; why?"

"You're picking at it."

"Oh...I guess I'm just not all that hungry."

"Try to eat a little more anyway," he prodded. "I have a feeling that you're not left with much time to eat between work and hospital visits."

"I have to go see him," she said somewhat defensively.

"I know you do," Jim said as he reached across the table and took her hand. "I just think it's starting to catch up with you, sweetheart."

Johanna shook her head. "I'm fine."

He looked at her knowingly. "I haven't seen much of you lately...but I have a feeling that has to do more with the bruises on your arm than anything else."

She gave him a look that was somewhere between disbelief and exasperation. "Are you saying I'm avoiding you?"

He shrugged. "Are you?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I was bothered by those marks on your arm and that bothered you. I think you've been staying away while you wait for them to fade...not that I can tell if they're faded or not. You've been wearing jackets all week."

"I wear jackets all the time," she responded.

Jim shook his head. "In the summer you wear sleeveless dresses. You might come in in the morning with a jacket on, but by noon it's draped over your chair."

He knew her too well; Johanna thought to herself as she shoved a fork full of salad into her mouth to appease him on one front. "They're almost gone," she answered after she swallowed.

"So have you been avoiding me or not?"

"Of course not!"

He patted her hand. "Alright, I believe you. Listen, I have a meeting this evening; if you think you'll be finished your visit with your grandfather by eight, I could pick you up."

"That would be nice," she replied; a smile gracing her lips.

"There's that smile," he stated. "I've missed that."

"I guess I haven't had much reason to smile lately."

"I guess I better try harder to give you reasons," he replied.

"I don't think you have to try too hard," she responded. "Just being yourself seems to be enough."

He pulled her hand towards him and brushed a kiss against it. "I'm here whenever you need me."

"I know," she answered; "And I'll be waiting outside for you at eight."

"I'll be there," he promised.

Johanna released a heavy breath Saturday evening as she stood in the hospital room…which was probably more crowded than it should be, but so far no one had said anything. She, however, was ready to leave. She glanced towards her grandfather; he was sleeping again and there was a part of her that had been relieved when he fell asleep…relieved that he could most likely see the real Sarah McKenzie in his dreams and spare her the awkward position of having to play along with him when he looked at her and called her by the wrong name. She could feel her father's ire over the whole thing every time his mother's name was uttered, and she could still feel the way his fingers had bit into her flesh when he had first caught her answering to Sarah's name. Nothing about this was easy, not by a long shot.

She needed a break, she mused as she raked a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. She just needed a little distance…a little time away from the stress and the worry; but she didn't want to go home. At home, she slept fitfully, waiting for the inevitable ring of the phone that would bring the news…and she knew that eventually it would ring…but maybe not tonight. Maybe tonight she could escape and take refuge elsewhere. She thought briefly of crashing at Sharon's for the night but then recalled that she had plans with Phil. Maggie would be with Jeff…but she still had an option left. A much more appealing option in some ways. Johanna rummaged through her purse for a pen and a scrap of paper and once she had both in hand, she jotted down a phone number. Catching Valerie's eye, she motioned for her to follow her out into the hallway.

"What's wrong?" Valerie asked once they were outside.

"Nothing," Johanna replied as she handed her the scrap of paper. "I'm getting out of here. If something would happen and I don't answer at my place…you'll find me at that number."

Valerie glanced at the number and then back at her sister-in-law. "If I would have to call this number…is a man going to answer?"

She hesitated for a second. "Yes."

Valerie smiled. "Is it the one that Frankie questioned at your work the other day?"

Her eyes widened; she hadn't heard anything about this. "What?"

"Your friend didn't tell you?"

"No! What did Frankie say to him?"

"Nothing bad," Valerie hurriedly replied.

"I'm not comforted by that at all."

"He was just being a big brother."

Johanna closed her eyes for a moment, wondering what had possessed him and why Jim hadn't mentioned it. "Don't tell Frankie about the phone number," she stated.

"Oh I won't," Valerie promised as she tucked the slip of paper into her purse. "Don't be mad at him; he's just looking after you. I thought it was sweet."

"I'll wait and see what was said before I decide if it was sweet or not," Johanna replied. "I don't think he's ever really looked after me too much before…did you take his temperature?"

Her sister-in-law laughed softly. "I know you and Frankie didn't get along as kids, he's told me all about it…but I think you get along okay now. You're typical siblings…and whether he admits it or not, he does love you."

She laughed. "I don't know if I'd go that far, Val."

"I know my husband," she stated. "I know he loves you; and I know that you love him."

"Of course I do; he's my brother…just don't tell him. It'll ruin the whole foundation of our relationship."

Valerie shook her head at her, an amused smile on her lips. "You're both so stubborn. Do you want us to give you a ride; we'll be leaving here in a few minutes too. We need to go pick up the baby from my mother's."

"No; I'll grab a cab. Kiss my little man for me and tell him I love him."

"I will," she promised. "Have a nice evening, Jo."

"Goodnight, Val," she replied before turning and heading down the hallway.

"Hey," Jim said as he opened his door and found Johanna looking back at him.

"Hey," she smiled. "Are you busy?"

"No, come on in," he replied; ushering her inside. "I haven't seen much of you the last few days."

"I know," she answered as she laid aside her purse and stepped out of her shoes.

"How are you doing?" Jim asked; reaching for her and pulling her into a much needed hug.

"I'm okay."

"Do you want a drink?"

"Do have a Coke? I need something cold."

"Don't I always have a soda for you?"

"You might surprise me and be out," she replied; "And then what would you do?"

"Well, I wouldn't be able to stand your disappointment in me, so I'd probably run down to the store and get you one."

Johanna laughed softly. "You probably would do that."

"Just for you," he stated as he went into the kitchen. "Don't go thinking I'd do it for just anybody."

"I'm flattered," she replied as she wearily settled down on his sofa.

"You should be," Jim said as he returned to the room and handed her her drink before sitting down at the opposite end of the sofa.

"Thank you," she said before taking a long cool sip of her soda.

He studied her intently as she leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah; I'm just tired, but I didn't feel like going home. I just wanted to get away."

"I don't blame you...and you can feel free to hide here as long as you like," he stated; remembering how her apartment had been his safe haven when dealing with his father's health scare. "How's your grandfather doing?"

"He's getting weaker...and his more lucid moments of knowing who people are and what year it is, are fewer and further between."

"He's still calling you Sarah?"

She nodded. "Yeah...he looks at me and doesn't see me at all. He just sees her. Like I told you before; I'm used to it for the most part, he's been calling me Sarah for awhile...it's just worse now. It also infuriates my father. He doesn't care that the doctor told him that agitating Grandpa with corrections isn't good for him. The more determined he is to make him remember that I'm his granddaughter and that Sarah is dead; the more my grandfather's mind stays cemented in the past."

"Maybe your grandfather slipped back into the past because that's when he was truly happy," Jim stated.

"Probably," she agreed; "And I think he's entitled to remain there if it gives him peace."

"I think so too, and you'd think that your Dad wouldn't want to keep agitating his father, especially when it doesn't seem to get him anywhere."

"Dad is a person who is firmly set in the belief that he's always right and that his word should be law."

"I think he's wrong."

"Join the club," Johanna said before taking another sip of her drink.

"How's it going with your mother?" he asked.

She sighed. "It's...kind of awkward. We play nice while avoiding the elephant in the room between us."

"And Colleen?"

"Colleen and I have only passed each other in the hallway once, and we did the fake smile, hi, how are you, it's nice to see you but I have to get going, thing."

"The joys of family," Jim remarked.

"Speaking of which," Johanna said as she eyed him; "Why didn't you tell me about my brother?"

"Tell you what?"

"Valerie left it slip tonight that he gave you some kind of brotherly talk about me?"

"Oh, that," he replied. "It was nothing."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing for you to get upset over."

"I'd like to be the judge of that."

He laughed. "Jo; really it wasn't anything...although he did ask if I was using you."

"Oh my God!"

"He also said that he saw us when I dropped you off the evening before Colleen's wedding."

"I knew about that, what else?"

"He said you're sensitive and not the type of woman to be toyed with and he won't stand for it."

"Oh my God," she stated once again. "I can't believe he did that."

"Are you sure he doesn't like you?" Jim asked; "He seemed kind of protective of you."

"We're at one of those moments where we can get along and co-exist peacefully...and in light of the Weston invasion, he's trying to reform as a brother and therefore garner himself a better brother-in-law by keeping tabs on me."

Jim laughed. "Well, he did say that I was protective and defensive of you and that those were good signs."

Her brow rose. "What did he say that you had to defend me over."

"He said you were annoying but I told him that you were worth ten of him...and if it makes you feel any better; he does like you better than Colleen."

She smiled. "Well that's good to know...but I am sorry that you had to go through that."

He waved a hand dismissively. "It was nothing I couldn't handle...and probably nothing I wouldn't do for my own sister."

"Alright," she replied; "I won't kill him then."

He took her hand and squeezed it. "Enjoy the knowledge that he took the time to do it, sweetheart."

She nodded; she supposed she should...even if it was somewhat humiliating. It wasn't often that Frankie showed that side of himself.

"I was about to order a pizza," Jim said; figuring that she probably hadn't ate dinner. "Do you want help me eat it?"

Johanna smiled. "Are you appealing to my Italian sensibilities?"

"Yes; are you in?"

"Are you going to get extra cheese and pepperoni?"

"Of course," he replied; knowing her preferred order.

"Then I'm in," she told him.

A while later, Jim subtly observed Johanna as she drowsily curled into a ball at her end of the sofa. She had ate two pieces of pizza and he knew she had been tempted to reach for a third; which told him that she probably hadn't had much lunch either, but she had refrained despite his prodding. They had flipped channels for awhile before he gave in and stopped on Mary Tyler Moore. It wasn't on his list of preferred shows but he knew that Johanna liked it; and he didn't mind it all that much...especially if it made her happy. He had barely heard a peep out of her sense. He could see her eyelids growing heavier, but she was fighting against it; forcing them back open every time they slid shut.

Jim laid his hand against her ankle and lazily caressed her skin in hopes of lulling her.

"Jim," she murmured after a few minutes.

"What, sweetheart?"

"Can I sleep on your couch tonight?" she asked sleepily.

"You can do better than that; go get in bed."

Johanna shook her head. "I don't want to get up."

"I'll carry you."

"No, I'm comfortable here."

"You'd be more comfortable in bed, sweetheart."

Her eyes closed for a moment and then flicked open once more. "I'm fine here."

"Jo; I wouldn't feel right letting you sleep on the couch."

"But it's what I want," she whispered.

He sighed; he wasn't sure why she'd rather sleep on the couch than in his bed; he'd sleep in the living room if she wanted to be alone...but he could tell she was too tired for an argument or debate over the matter and he figured it was more important for her to get her rest than to quibble over the arrangements. He got up as her eyes closed again and went to the bedroom and got her a pillow and blanket. When he returned; he gently lifted her head and slid the pillow beneath it, causing her to stir and look up at him.

"You needed a pillow," he explained.

She smiled tiredly. "Thank you."

He then draped the blanket over her; making sure she was tucked in comfortably.

"Jim?" she said softly as he arranged the blanket over her feet.

"Yeah?"

"When you go to bed, will you leave the TV on?"

He smiled and brushed her hair back from her face. "Sure, sweetheart. I'll leave it on for you."

"Thank you," she murmured again.

Jim brushed a soft kiss against her lips. "You sleep now."

"Wait," she said grabbing his wrist. "I gave Valerie your number."

"That's fine."

She gave a nod and then released his wrist; but he remained perched next to her, brushing his fingertips along her hairline as she finally gave in and slept. He watched over her for awhile before reluctantly leaving her behind and retreating to his bedroom.

Johanna frowned at the quality of her salad as she sat across from her mother in the hospital cafeteria the next afternoon. She stuck her fork into it anyway and took a bite; it wasn't as bad as she had expected, but she'd had better. Of course maybe she was just getting spoiled. Jim did make it a point to take her to a little café not far from the office for lunch once a week and she was very fond of their fresh salads and the creamy homemade quality of their dressing. That was probably it, she thought. He had spoiled her…not that she minded. She did mind the tension that lingered in the atmosphere between her and her mother, but she didn't really know what to say to her…and if Naomi McKenzie was waiting on an apology, well, she was going to have a long wait.

"I tried to call you last night," Naomi commented; breaking the silence between them.

"Was something wrong? Valerie knew how to get a hold of me."

"No; nothing was wrong…I just thought we could chat a little," her mother answered; her unspoken question about her daughter's whereabouts coming through loud and clear.

"I stayed with a friend last night," Johanna stated; figuring she may as well give her the explanation she wanted. "But like I said; Valerie knew where I was in case of an emergency."

Naomi stammered for a moment as she tried to choose her words wisely. "Why didn't you stay at your place?"

"I just needed to get away from everything."

"You seem to need a lot of that lately," Naomi remarked without thinking.

Johanna's gaze flicked to her face and eyed her, daring her to imply that she wasn't justified in her absence for the last several weeks. "Perhaps there's a reason for that," she replied as she held the older woman's gaze.

"Yes; I'm sure there is," her mother sighed; a certain amount of silent acceptance that she was one of the causes, present in her tone.

"I just wanted to be with a friend last night," Johanna clarified.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me. If you want to stay with somebody, that's your business…although if you were lonely, you could've came home and stayed with us."

That would've defeated the purpose, she thought to herself. The idea was to get a break from the family and the impending doom; not spend the evening immersed in it.

"Were you with Sharon?"

"No."

"Oh?"

"I have other friends beside Sharon," Johanna replied.

"Of course you do!" Naomi exclaimed. "You've always been capable of making friends wherever you go. I just assumed that you had gone to Sharon. Were you with your friend Maggie then?"

"No."

Clearly her daughter wasn't going to tell her who she had spent her time with, Naomi thought to herself; and of course that was her right. She was a grown woman, she didn't have to answer to her any longer or tell her where she had been and with whom. Still, maternal curiosity was a difficult thing to quell.

"Did you have a nice time with your friend?"

"Yes, I always do."

Silence fell between them as they turned their attention to eating their meals. Finally, Naomi was brave enough to make another attempt.

"How have things been at work?"

"Fine," she answered; deciding to leave it at that in light of the comments Naomi had made after Colleen's rehearsal dinner.

Naomi took a sip of coffee and tried again. Her girl was stubborn, that was for sure. "Have you won any cases, dear?"

"A few."

"Do you have any coming up?"

"Always."

"Are you only going to give me one word replies and short simple answers?"

Johanna glanced at her once again. "Well you're not fond of my career choice and I don't want to bore you with something that doesn't interest you."

"That's not true, Johanna."

"Oh I don't know, it seemed that way to me," she replied; "But that's okay. It's not like I'm going to quit just to please you or anything."

"I don't believe I ever asked you to; nor would I. I don't have a problem with your job."

"Just my life in general?"

"No," Naomi said with a shake of her head. "It's not like that at all."

"Then what is it like, Mother?"

The older woman sighed and brushed back a piece of light brown hair that had come loose from the elegant knot at the back of her head. "Must you call me that?"

"According to my birth certificate I do, I mean you are my mother…aren't you?"

"Of course I'm your mother!" she exclaimed in a hushed voice. "I well remember bringing you into this world, Johanna Elizabeth, and let me tell you, you took your sweet time about it."

Johanna rolled her eyes. "I know, I know; nineteen and a half hours and nothing for pain; not even a doctor. Just Grandma and a blizzard raging outside while Grandpa kept Frankie occupied in the other room. She had to borrow diapers from the neighbor and dress me in your old baby gown; and lay me in a dresser drawer on top of her clean sheets."

"That's right," Naomi declared; "And let me tell you, it was no picnic. Your father couldn't even get to us until you were two days old."

"Those were probably the two most peaceful days of my existence."

"Johanna."

"Mother."

"Stop calling me that! You know I hate it."

"What do you want me to call you?"

"What you usually call me when you aren't miffed at me, Mom or Mama."

"We'll play it by ear," Johanna replied.

Another exasperated sigh passed through Naomi's lips as she reigned in her temper. She had to play her cards right or her daughter would slip away from her forever and she couldn't bear that. "I'm not a perfect parent, Johanna."

Her daughter's brow rose; the sentiment of 'you aren't kidding' present in her eyes. "Go ahead and say it," Naomi told her.

"Say what?"

"Say you know," she replied. "It's so clear that you're thinking it."

Johanna shook her head. "No; I'm not going to say it."

"Well, it's true," Naomi remarked. "I'm not perfect."

"No one is."

"You're right about that," her mother agreed. "No one is perfect. We are all just works in progress, my dear."

"And?"

"And sometimes when you get too anxious to get to the next step…or too full of yourself thinking that you're right…you make mistakes. Sometimes you rush the work…sometimes you push too much…and sometimes you hurt someone you love without meaning to. Sometimes you just love that person so much that you forget that their life is their own work in progress…a work that they have their own visions for and are crafting in their own time."

Johanna glanced down at her plate; unsure of what to say in regards to that.

"I know I hurt you," Naomi stated; "And it causes me great pain…especially the knowledge that I've apparently pushed and hurt you to the point that you've stayed away for so long. I've missed you, Bambina."

She toyed with the edge of a paper napkin as she bit into her lip. "And I miss the mother who used to love me for who I am."

"I do love you for who you are."

"It hasn't felt like it for a long time."

"I never intended to make you feel that way…I just want you to be happy, Johanna."

A small scoff crossed her lips as her fingers began shredding the napkin. "And yet when I was telling you how unhappy you were making me, you still persisted."

Naomi nodded. "It was a mistake; one that I regret and apologize for."

"Why couldn't you just stop?" Johanna asked; her gaze darting back to her mother's face.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I just…I just want you to have what everyone else has. You deserve it so much. Your brother and sister are both married now and I didn't want you to be left behind. I just wanted you to find someone."

"You can't orchestrate fate," her daughter replied.

"No, you can't…but sometimes you have to help it along."

"But I should be the one to make that decision of how much help it needs and where."

"That's most likely true," Naomi replied. "I just want so much for you. I don't want you to be sitting at the table on the holidays, looking at your sister and seeing her happily married and seeing the same thing with your brother and feeling left out."

Her heart stung at that thought…a thought she didn't need in her head with the holidays not that far off. "I doubt that I would've felt that way given the number of other relatives that traipse through the house on the holidays but now that you've pointed it out…I'm sure my brain won't be able to help pointing it out to me. Thanks."

Her mother lowered her head for a moment and silently berated herself. She was trying to make it better and she had made it worse. "I'm sorry," Naomi stated. "Not only for that comment but for everything. It's your business how you spend your time, not mine. I'm sure things will happen for you in their own good time. I know you're still angry with me, I don't begrudge you that."

"But?"

"But I hope that you'll keep in mind that the door is always open whenever you choose to come home for a visit…and a phone call once in awhile would be appreciated. I'll do my best to keep my nose out of your personal business."

"The phone works both ways, you know," Johanna replied.

"I'm aware of that."

"And as far as I know, you do know where I live."

"What are you getting at?"

"I guess what I'm saying is…if it really matters…I won't be the only one to make the effort."

"I don't have a problem making effort. I'm just afraid of treading into that 'space' you so desperately need lately."

"It's been a bad year, Mom…I can't help but want to get away from it once in awhile; especially when it isn't even over yet."

"You mean you want to get away from the people who trouble you."

"That too."

"I'm sorry to be on that list."

"Not nearly as sorry as I am. I always thought we were close…and then Colleen came home and waved a ring at you…and I was nothing but the disappointment."

"I wish you'd quit saying that."

"Then quit making me feel it."

"Fair enough," Naomi stated. "You know, as a work in progress, we have to keep an open mind to improvement. I've made a mistake and hurt you, and now I have to learn from it…and hopefully make myself a better person and mother because of it. I love you, no matter what; whether you're single, married, divorced; have one child, ten or none. I love you whether you're an attorney or a waitress. I love you when you're happy, sad…or mad at me. It doesn't matter who you are, what you do, what the future holds; I will always love you, because you're my daughter…and you are one of the greatest things in this world in my opinion."

Johanna swallowed the lump in her throat as she rolled the torn pieces of napkin beneath her fingers. "I love you too," she said softly.

Naomi reached out and stilled her fingers; curling her own around them. "You can take your time deciding whether to forgive me or not…I'll wait for you, and I'll respect the choice you make."

"I can forgive you," Johanna said as she met her eye. "I just can't completely forget yet."

"I understand. You take your time, and work through it in whatever manner you see fit, I'll still be here when you're ready."

Johanna nodded. "Maybe we can just take it slow…and let the dust settle."

"That's a wise thing to do," her mother agreed. "Can I at least hug you?"

She rose from her chair and moved to her mother's side and allowed her to embrace her. Things were still a little off kilter…but maybe they had a better understanding of each other now and things could return to normal after a grace period of finding their way once again.

Time seemed to move slowly; June fading into July with little notice. Johanna couldn't help but feel weighted down as she juggled work and hospital visits. She supposed she didn't have to go every day, but she was fearful of not going…afraid that it she didn't go, he'd slip away and she wouldn't get to say goodbye. There was also the steadily mounting tension between her and her father to contend with. The truce they had shared leading up to Colleen's wedding seemed to be crumbling at a steady rate. His anger just wouldn't abate…and she couldn't give in to his demands if it meant possibly doing harm to her grandfather.

Like she had told Jim, she was damned no matter what she did. There was still awkwardness where her mother was concerned; that odd feeling of what to do in the aftermath of standing up to her, making itself felt acutely. She didn't like to feel at odds with her mother…but maybe she just wasn't ready to give in yet. Maybe the wound was still too raw….or maybe that cautious hopeful look in Naomi McKenzie's eyes made her worry that she'd cave and fall into the old habit of letting her mother walk on her. Things had changed now between them. She guessed that there would have to be an adjustment period for that but it came at a lousy time.

She flinched every time the phone rang; thinking that this time it was going to be the call she dreaded. She had spent a night on Sharon's couch…she had spent another night on Jim's too. There were just days when being alone with her thoughts was entirely unappealing. Her friends didn't seem to mind her neediness and for that she was glad. The whole thing kept her stomach tied in knots and she had already lost count of how many Rolaids she had eaten in hopes of easing the queasiness that her nerves brought on. Sharon had looked her over just the other day and assessed that she had lost a few pounds over the course of the season. She had made the comment in the presence of Jim and now he was making a concentrated effort to keep her fed. The only problem was she wasn't hungry. How could she eat when she felt like she had so much hanging over her?

But every time Jim looked at her from across the table; his blue eyes showcasing worry as he gently but firmly demanded that she eat more, she'd pick up her fork and force herself to eat most of the lunch he had provided. She smiled softly as she thought of Jim and then frowned as she recalled that she had almost missed his birthday two days before. She would've hated herself for that. Thankfully Jeff had seen fit to remind her and she had kept her visit to the hospital short that evening and had gone to the small gathering that Jeff had hosted at the bar. She would've liked to have done more for him though, besides the card and a gift. She would've liked to have returned the favor of treating him to a meal for the occasion. She promised to make it up to him though, although he had insisted that there was nothing to make up for…but she felt like there was. He had made her birthday special, and she should've done the same for him.

Johanna sighed heavily and stared at the pile of work on her desk and wished that she could just walk away from everything for awhile. She didn't want to lose her grandfather, she was in no hurry for him to leave this earth but the longer he lingered, the more the pressure built. She wished there was a valve she could twist to relieve it, but of course there wasn't. All there was were headaches and stomachaches, emotional breakdowns and the need to run. If only she could get away for awhile and forget all the things she had to be, all the people she constantly disappointed…all of the stress of a year that was only half way over.

It was nothing but a daydream, she mused as she picked up her pen. A lovely day dream that was so far out of reach. The thought made her want to cry but she had been doing entirely too much of that lately and she forced herself to squash the urge.

A knock drew her attention to the door where Sharon stood. "It's time for lunch," her secretary informed her.

"I'm not really hungry," she replied.

"Yeah well you know Jim isn't going to pay any attention to you when you say that so you better get your purse because he's on his way."

"You shouldn't have told him that I looked like I had lost weight."

"Well you do," Sharon insisted; "And you're going to lunch. I've been invited along and I'm anxious to spend some of his money."

"Really?" Johanna laughed.

"Hell yes; I'm always willing to spend a man's money if he offers…even if he isn't mine."

"I'm sure Phil will like knowing that."

She laughed. "Hey, if he wants to have control over whose money I spend, he better put a ring on my finger."

"Is that why you're going to lunch with us today? It's your way of giving Phil an ultimatum?"

"No!" her friend exclaimed. "I told you why I'm going. Really, Jo; what has always been our rule? What are the three things in life we never turn down?"

"Free drinks, free meals, and shoe sales," Johanna replied with a grin.

"That's right, now get your ass out of that chair because we have a free lunch coming and you need it."

"I'm sure that if I've lost any weight, it's only a pound or two," she responded. "You make it sound like I'm wasting away."

"I know you, Johanna," Sharon stated. "You have been stressed for months, even more so now, and it's taking a toll. I'd say you're down about five pounds, maybe seven and you don't need to be. If not for your sake, at least mine."

"Yours?" she questioned with a raised brow.

"Yes, now I know we don't weigh the same even in normal circumstances; you're a few pounds lighter but it's not enough to keep us from sharing most of our wardrobes whenever the need arises. Now if you go and get any skinnier, we won't be able to do that and I'll feel bad about myself. Do you want me to have low self esteem? Do you want that on your conscience?"

"Oh definitely not," Johanna laughed. "I'd never be able to live with myself if I ruined your self esteem."

"Then what are you waiting for? There's a man coming to take us out for a free lunch. Get up; it's for a good cause."

She nodded. "You're right, you are a good cause, Sharon."

"I like to think so," she replied. "I'm sure the man providing the meal is a good cause to you too."

"Of course he is," Johanna replied as she rose from her chair and moved to the closet to grab her purse from the hook inside the door.

"Are you ladies ready?" Jim asked as he entered the office.

"Do you have your wallet?" Sharon asked.

"Yes."

"Then were ready," she said with a teasing grin.

Jim glanced to Johanna. "Why do I have a feeling that I'm going to regret inviting her along?"

"Probably because she's only going because she wants to spend your money," she teased as she looped her arm through his.

"I should've known," he replied.

"Hey," Sharon retorted; "While I do enjoy spending a man's money when it's offered, I don't make a career of it."

"Sure you don't," Jim teased; "But at least now I know why Phil's broke all the time."

"Don't even act like he spends all of his money on me!" Sharon exclaimed as they walked to the elevator.

"Does he have some other girlfriend he's spending it on?" he asked.

"He better not!"

"Yeah, because then we'd have to kill him," Johanna remarked.

Jim glanced at her. "You'd help her with that?"

"Of course; it's the girl code of honor. If a heartbreak occurs, the best friend has to step up and help with whatever punishment is found suitable for the weasel."

"That's right," Sharon stated. "We worked that out a long time ago; and just so you know, Jim Beckett; I'm going along for this lunch to make sure you two are properly chaperoned. I'm thinking you might have ulterior motives for all these lunches. You might be planning on getting her drunk on wine and taking advantage of her."

Johanna laughed at Jim's expression as they stepped onto the elevator. "Just for that, Sharon," he stated; "You're only allowed to get the cheapest thing on the menu."

"The hell I am," she retorted. "I'm getting the most expensive thing they have…and Jo; did you notice that he didn't deny the accusations?"

Johanna nodded. "I noticed; here I thought this was all an innocent gesture and now I have to wonder about his motives."

Jim shook his head. "I can see how this lunch hour is going to go."

"It's fun already, isn't it?" Johanna asked as she relaxed a little.

"It's probably going to be a learning experience," he replied.

"About what?" Sharon asked.

"About how I shouldn't take you both to lunch," he laughed.

"Just for that," Johanna replied with a grin; "We're both ordering the most expensive thing on the menu."

"Now it's a party," Sharon stated; holding her hand up for Johanna to smack.

"This was definitely a bad idea," Jim stated; but a smile clung to his lips. Johanna needed some fun, and it looked like he might've found the right idea.

On yet another Saturday morning, Johanna once again sat beside her grandfather's bed. She didn't resent the fact that she was spending so much time in a place she'd rather not be…she wanted to soak up as much time as she could with him; but it did wear on a person after awhile. The smells of the hospital and the noise of nurses and other patients, the beeping of machines and the volumes of televisions; it all lent itself to a feeling of organized chaos as you waited for either a recovery or a loss. No one had expected him to last this long; they had made it seem like he had days…when so far it had been weeks; not that she was complaining; she thought as she rubbed the back of her neck. She'd like for him to still be there a year from now…or even ten; but that wasn't going to happen and she needed to accept that. She thought she had; but maybe it hadn't been a complete acceptance like she thought.

"Sarah, sing me that song," Patrick requested.

"Song?" Johanna asked; a measure of panic filling at her.

He nodded. "The one you sing at night when the children are falling asleep."

Her gaze darted toward Bridget, a silent question in her gaze that her aunt understood.

"The one I sang to you when you were a little girl when you'd stay with me," Bridget whispered.

"I don't know if I remember all the words," Johanna replied softly.

"Of course you remember," her grandfather stated. "It's your favorite."

"I'll help you," Bridget murmured.

She took a breath and began the song; recalling the opening lines well enough. "Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me, starlight and dewdrops are awaiting thee..."

She began to stumble over the next verse but Bridget jumped in; her voice guiding her through it and Naomi joined in as well as they carried the song into its final verse.

"...Gone are the cares of life's busy throng, beautiful dreamer, wake unto me..."

"That was beautiful, Sarah," Patrick stated when they finished. "It's always nice to hear you and the girls sing."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Johanna told him. She was just glad that her father hadn't been in the room for it. It probably would've angered him; especially when her mother had joined in.

"Have you seen your mockingbird today?" he asked.

"No, I think he's gone south for the winter."

Her grandfather patted her hand. "Don't be sad. He'll come back in the spring. He'll remember all of those bread heels you gave him and he'll find his way back to the post."

Johanna smiled. "I thought you said he was silly."

"He is...but he makes you happy and I always want you to be happy, Sarah."

She didn't know how to respond to that as she studied him. He looked so frail and tired. It was hard to see him that way. He had always been so strong; his presence had seemed so imposing. There had been times when she was child when he had frightened her...times when his booming voice had yelled at her...but she had good memories too. When Patrick McKenzie smiled, it changed his own demeanor and there had been times when he had smiled at her and swung her up into his arms and made her laugh; making her feel special for a moment or two. She remembered back when Gunsmoke had been in black and white and he'd always come to watch it with her father. She would sit on his knee and watch with them; her brother sitting at his side.

There had, of course, been times when he had been distant from her, her traitorous mind forced her to recall. Times when his tone had been sharp; his looks biting and she had been filled with the feeling that he didn't like her all that much...and yet when she thought about it; she could match every bad memory with one that was good. There had been that time when she was seven and he had spotted her walking home from school by herself. He had taken her hand and walked the rest of the way with her, listening as she told him about her day. One time when he had been short tempered with her, he had brought her a bag of candy to apologize.

When her father had complained about her asking for money for her cheerleading photos her freshman year, after he had already paid for Frankie's football photos; Patrick had stepped in and paid for them for her. The 5x7 photo of her in her cheerleading uniform still sat on the stand by his couch. He had even bought her class ring for her as a Christmas gift. Her fingertips caressed his hand; recalling how that large calloused hand had often ran over the back of her head as he passed by her. Her grandfather loved her...maybe it had been hard to feel sometimes, but he loved her in his own way.

"What are you thinking about, Lass?" Patrick asked.

She blinked back her tears before raising her head and offering him a smile. "Just that I love you."

"I love you too," he answered.

Johanna swallowed hard. He hadn't given a name so she was unsure if the sentiment was for her or for Sarah, but she supposed it didn't matter. He had said it to her and she could pretend it was meant for her.

"I'm tired," he stated.

"Take a little nap, Dad," Bridget told him.

"How can I sleep with all of you gawking at me all the time?"

Johanna returned her gaze to his face. Maybe he was having a lucid moment after all.

"Well I guess we could go get something to eat," his daughter replied. "Frank and Colin will be here soon."

"Why don't you give an old man some peace for an hour or two?"

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Naomi asked.

"Of course I'll be alright. I don't need a damn babysitter!"

"Take it easy," Johanna soothed; moving her fingers against his hand. "Don't get so excited."

His gaze darted towards her. "Be a good girl, Josie and get them out of here."

She smiled; maybe he had known it was her when he said I love you. "Alright, Grandpa; I'll get them out of your hair."

He grinned. "I knew I could count on you."

Bridget moved towards the bed and kissed his cheek. "Margaret will be here after while. I'll be back after we eat lunch. I love you."

"I love you too; now get the hell out of here for awhile."

"Dad, you overwhelm me with sentiment," she laughed.

"Well all this damn mushiness lately. It takes its toll on a man. Well come on, Naomi; don't just stand there. Let's get it over with."

Naomi smirked at him as she stepped towards him and kissed his cheek. "Frank will be back soon."

"I'm counting the minutes," he quipped.

"Now, Patrick," Naomi began to say but he rolled his eyes and waved her away.

"I know," he said; not bothering to explain what it was that he knew before turning to his granddaughter. "Go ahead, Lass; you may as well get in on this."

She laughed as she kissed the cheek presented to her. "How come you let Johanna kiss you without any fuss?" Bridget asked.

"Probably because she's younger and prettier," Naomi remarked.

"That's right," Patrick stated. "When you get to be my age, you appreciate a sweet young thing that stands there and looks pretty and knows when to keep her mouth shut."

"I see how it is," Bridget replied. "I lo..."

"I know!" he exclaimed. "You already told me. Christ, I feel like we're on the damn Walton's. I hate that show."

Johanna giggled. "I'm not crazy about it either."

He grinned; his attention shifting back to her. "Give me a good western with a shoot out any day."

She nodded. "I like watching a good shoot out once in awhile myself. Do you want me to see if there's a western on before we go?"

"Yeah, you do that, Josie."

"I thought you were going to take a nap," Naomi stated.

He eyed her. "What, I can't doze off while watching television?"

Naomi raised a hand in surrender. "I'm not saying another word."

"Josie, do you remember when you were a little girl and you wanted to be Miss Kitty for Halloween and your mother almost had a stroke over it?"

She laughed. "Yeah, I remember. I had to settle for being a cowgirl instead."

"Well I couldn't let her go out dressed as a saloon girl!" her mother exclaimed.

"I thought she wasn't saying another word?" Patrick commented.

"She always says that," Johanna replied. "It's always a lie. Here's a western, Grandpa."

He looked at the black and white image on the screen and nodded. "That's fine, Josie."

After making sure he had everything he needed; the three women left him alone as he had requested.

As Naomi and Bridget were finishing their lunches, Naomi looked at her sister-in-law and spoke. "He seemed to come back to himself pretty well," she stated.

Bridget nodded but the smile that touched her lips was sad. "He did...but you know what they say. It's always calm before the storm."

"What do you mean?" Johanna asked as she pushed away her plate which was still half full.

"Well I've always heard people talking about how suddenly a loved one seemed to be themselves again and seemed to be doing better...and then the end comes quickly on the heels of it."

Johanna felt like a lead weight had been dropped into her stomach and she regretted the small amount she had ate.

Naomi saw the look on her daughter's face and took her hand. "You know it's coming, honey."

The lump in her throat was too big to swallow so she nodded in response.

"Why don't you take a break for the rest of the day, Jo," Bridget suggested. "I'm sure you have things to do or friends to visit."

"Or do a little shopping," her mother suggested. "Take your mind off things for awhile."

"Alright, Mama," she replied quietly.

They parted ways soon after and Johanna found her way to a payphone where she dialed Sharon's number and asked her to meet her at Macy's.

"Are we looking for anything in particular?" Sharon asked as they slowly made their way through Macy's.

"Yeah, but it's not really something I want to be looking for," Johanna replied.

"What is it?"

"A dress, the black dress I have reserved for...funerals," she forced herself to say; "Hasn't been worn since I was in high school. I'm sure I can fit into it but..."

"It's out of style," Sharon replied.

"Yeah; and it's probably not right for my age now anyway. I don't want to wear something that I normally wear for work because then I won't want to wear it ever again...which probably sounds crazy."

Her best friend shook her head. "No; that isn't crazy. There's a dress shoved in the back of my closet that I never want to wear again. They get a stigma of bad memories on them."

Johanna nodded. "That's true."

"Is he worse?" Sharon asked.

"I don't know. Sometimes it's hard to tell. Today was one of his better days but I figure it's best to be prepared."

"It's probably best," she agreed as they walked towards a rack of black dresses and began to go through them.

Johanna sighed. "I never thought I'd be so sick of dress shopping."

"Well, look on the bright side," Sharon said as she looked over a dress and then hung it back on the rack.

"There's a bright side?"

Sharon grinned. "Yeah; at least Colleen isn't picking it out this time."

The laughter bubbled up and spilled from her lips before she could stop it or ask herself if it was appropriate.

Sharon laughed with her and plucked a dress from the rack and held it up for her to see. "She'd probably pick something ugly like this," she stated; shaking the ugly black velvet dress with thick white stripes at her.

"You're right," Johanna laughed. "She'd like that...and then it would have to be a double service."

Sharon giggled as she put the dress back, and Johanna lowered her head as she tried to get her own giggles under control. Finally she looked up at Sharon, tears glistening in her eyes. "It's always something, isn't it? You get through one nightmare and wake up to another one. It's been a long year...seems to be getting longer all the time."

"I know," her friend answered as she reached out and rubbed her arm. "You've been getting slapped around pretty good this year."

Johanna bit her lip; forcing herself to hold back her emotions. "It's just always something," she said once again. "First it was Colleen and her wedding and fighting with her and Mom. Now it's Grandpa and playing along with him when he thinks I'm someone who I never even met. Then there's Mom and trying to ease back into things with her, and then there's Dad and he's furious that I'm doing what the doctor said to do. There's work and trying to keep my mind focused and squeezing in hospital visits, afraid that something will happen while I'm not there and I won't get to say goodbye," she said as her voice cracked.

Sharon didn't hesitate to hug her as they stood amongst the dress racks. "I know, it's one of those times when you want to have your phone disconnected and hide in the closet with a carton of ice cream and a bottle of wine."

She gave a soft short laugh as she hugged her friend tightly and then released her. "I think I found you in your closet with a carton of ice cream and a bottle of wine once," Johanna remarked.

Sharon gave a nod. "It was a low point in my life."

"I remember."

"You should; you poured yourself a glass, got a spoon and joined me."

"I know," Johanna replied. "That's what we do."

"That's right...and if we need to go sit in your closet with a carton of ice cream and a bottle of wine; you just say the word and we'll do it."

Johanna gave her a wobbly smile. "We might have to settle for the floor outside the closet...there isn't any room inside."

Sharon laughed. "Well we can improvise...should we do that today?"

Her friend nodded. "I need to find a dress first."

They searched through the racks and finally came up with a black dress that had cap sleeves and a scoop neckline. It was simple and sedate; and fell to the knee. "I think this one will work," Johanna said after trying it on.

"Good...now buy something fun to balance things out."

"Fun?"

"Yeah; buy yourself a purse or some shoes or something fun for a better time so this doesn't have to be such a depressing shopping trip," Sharon told her.

"You're right...this is a trip that requires the purchase of shoes and purses...as a form of retail therapy."

"Right; we get the necessity; we get some fun stuff, pick up some wine and ice cream and we have a well rounded day," Sharon commented.

"We need all of those we can get," Johanna answered; while silently thanking god she had a friend like Sharon to share them with.

The storm, as Bridget called it, came four days later. Johanna had barely been at work for an hour when the call had came in that Patrick had taken a turn for the worst and wasn't excepted to last the day. She glanced at her watch, it was nearly six and he was in and out of consciousness, his mind back in the past and calling her Sarah.

"Sarah," he murmured; his breath wheezing.

"Yes?" she whispered.

"I'm tired."

Tears suddenly filled her eyes. "I know…you've had a long day. You worked hard."

"I try to be a good man, Sarah…"

"You are a good man," she told him.

"But sometimes I've done things that weren't good."

"We all do," Johanna stated. "That doesn't mean you aren't still good inside."

"Do you still love me, Sarah?" Patrick asked.

Her throat tightened and she couldn't bring herself to meet the gaze of anyone in the room, with the exception of him. "You know I do."

He weakly squeezed her hand. "As long as you love me, Sarah…that's all that ever mattered."

Johanna struggled to hold back a sob but somehow she managed. "I love you…and your children love you…"

"Are they tucked in for the night?" he asked.

"Not yet…they want to say goodnight to you first," she told him; sensing that end was near.

"Send them to me then so they can get to bed."

One by one his children stepped forward and kissed him cheek, telling him they loved him and whispering goodnight. Even though she knew his mind wasn't in the present, she had to remind him that there were others who loved him as well.

"Your grandchildren love you too," she stated.

A small smile touched his lips. "The grandchildren."

"That's right," Johanna said before listing the names of her cousins and then coming to her own family. "…And Frankie loves you…"

"He's a good lad," Patrick stated. "He's got himself a pretty wife."

She nodded. "And they have little Greg…and he loves his great grandfather too."

"He's something isn't he?" the old man said. "He's a McKenzie boy alright."

"He certainly is," she agreed; "And then there's Colleen and she loves you."

"That one reminds me of your mother, Sarah. She's flighty."

Johanna bit back a smile; feeling her sister's indignation from across the room. She quickly tried to deduce what Sarah would've said in response to that. "My mother was a lovely woman," she stated; figuring that was a safe answer.

"I know she was, darling; but she was still flighty and so is Colleen but it's okay…someone has to be I suppose."

She smiled and swallowed hard. "Johanna loves you too."

"Josie," he smiled. "She's a special girl…beautiful like you, Sarah. I know she's your favorite."

"I love them all," she stated; hoping she was doing her grandmother justice. "But the point is that you're a good man, Patrick McKenzie…and that you are loved by so many people."

"I'm tired," he whispered once again. "Sing that song for me would you."

She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it. "Alright, I'll sing it for you…you just rest now…I love you."

"I love you too, darling. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she whispered with a shaky breath as she began the song. Her aunt Margaret turned away, her shoulders shaking with silent cries. As Johanna finished the last line of the song, Patrick opened his eyes and smiled up at some invisible point and whispered, "Sarah." And then he was gone.

It took her a moment to realize that the slow rise and fall of his chest had ceased, but when she did, the sobs she had been trying to hold back burst from her lips as she clutched her grandfather's hand. Bridget's arms wrapped around her as Frankie stepped forward and gently pried her hand from their grandfather's. Frank stormed from the room, Naomi on his heels but Johanna didn't notice…all she felt was that overwhelming first wave of grief.

Her heart was heavy as she stepped off the elevator hours later and dug in her purse for her keys. As she neared her door, she realized that Jim was standing there; concern and sympathy on his face as he waited for her. She managed the slightest hint of a sad smile for him.

"What are you doing here this late?" she asked softly.

"Sharon called me," he answered.

Johanna gave him a nod of understanding as she unlocked her door and pushed it open. She had declined Sharon's offer to come stay with her when she had called her from her parents house. Apparently her best friend figured she wouldn't turn away Jim if he was waiting at her door...she was right.

"Are you okay?" Jim asked; taking note of her red eyes and the sadness that lingered in their depths. Her chin quivered, her composure slipping as the tears welled once again.

"I don't know," she whispered before the dam burst and the sob broke free.

He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured.

"It always has to hurt so much," Johanna stated as her cries eased.

"I know."

"Somehow it hurts even more when you're the person who's holding their hand when they slip away."

He closed his eyes for a moment and tightened his hold on her, feeling her anguish as if it was his own. "Sweetheart," he murmured once again; at loss for words that would console her. He could only imagine how painful it had been for her to be the one to hold Patrick McKenzie's hand as he took his last breath. He kept an arm around her but broke their embrace long enough to lead her to the sofa so that they could sit down. "I wish I knew what to say to make it easier or make it hurt less," Jim told her; "But nothing ever seems right in these situations."

"I know, I've often thought the same thing."

"Was he conscious at all today? Did you get to talk to him one last time?"

Johanna nodded as she took a shuddering breath, a sad smile ghosting across her lips. "He still thought I was Sarah," she answered. "It's not easy pretending to be a dead woman you've never met...even if it is bringing comfort and peace to the person who needs it most."

"I'm sure it isn't."

"Even harder when you can feel your father's eyes burning a hole into you while you do it. He's still angry with me for going along with it."

"It's probably not really you that he's angry with; it's just the grief."

"I'm not too sure about that," she whispered as she sought out his arms once more; feeling so very needy of the affection he always gave so willingly. He didn't hesitate to cuddle her to him; brushing a kiss against the top of her head.

"Did you eat today?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Johanna sighed. "I vaguely remember eating breakfast...I didn't make it to my lunch hour."

"So you haven't ate since this morning?"

"I guess not."

"Do you want me to fix you something?"

Johanna shook her head. "I'm not hungry. I think I want to take a shower...wash away the smell of the hospital. It always feels like it clings to you after you've spent a certain amount of time there."

"I know what you mean," he replied as she pulled herself out of his arms. "How about a cup of tea?" he asked; figuring she could use the comfort that the beverage seemed to give her at times.

Johanna nodded and managed more of a smile. "That would be nice; thank you."

"I'll bring it to your room," he told her; seeing the weariness in her eyes.

"Alright," she replied before getting up and leaving the room.

She stood in the shower for what seemed like hours; allowing the water to rush over her in hopes that it would wash away not only the feeling of the hospital, but the torrent of emotions inside of her as well. She wanted to be numb...but she knew that would prove to be impossible. She shivered as the hot water turned cold, and pulled herself from her thoughts as she shut off the water. She dried off and dressed quickly and then plugged in the hair dryer and allowed the heat from it to warm her as it dried her hair. When she finished, she put the hair dryer back in the drawer and unlocked the door, ready to retreat to her bedroom and the comfort her friend wanted to provide her with.

Jim rose from his perch at the edge of her bed as she entered the room. "I was starting to think that you weren't coming out."

"I wasn't paying attention," she replied; "Until the water got cold that is."

He nodded. "That'll get your attention every time."

"That's the truth," she agreed as she slipped into her bed; the blankets already pulled back and waiting for her. She noticed that his shoes were sitting by the chair and a small feeling of relief swam through her at the sight. It meant he intended to stay for awhile and she was glad for his presence.

"Your tea is on the nightstand," he reminded her as he rounded the bed and settled in the empty place next to her.

"Thank you," she said as she reached for the mug and took a long soothing sip. "I'm so sick of coffee today."

"I don't doubt that; I know I was sick of it when I was there with my father."

Johanna reached for the remote and clicked on her television that sat on the dresser. "Do you mind if I turn off the light?" she asked after flipping channels for a few minutes.

"No, I don't mind."

She clicked off the light and then laid the remote on the nightstand before taking another sip of tea, this time tasting a slight hint of brandy. She said nothing about it; knowing he had only slipped in a small amount of alcohol to relax her. She sat the cup down and laid back against her pillow. It was quiet between them as she absentmindedly watched the Tonight Show but after awhile, she broke her silence.

"I only have one grandparent now," Johanna murmured softly.

"I know, sweetheart."

"How many do you have left?"

"Two; but really it's more like one."

She glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well I have my father's mother; I've told you about her."

"Lilly," she stated; "Lilly of late payment to the cable company fame."

He chuckled quietly. "That's her. My mother's father is still living but he's never been an affectionate grandfather. When we went to visit my grandparents, we had to sit on the floor and not move or speak unless spoken to. He wasn't fond of kids ...I'm not even sure he's all that fond of his own. He's not a people person, to say the least."

"Must be where your mom gets it," she commented.

Jim laughed. "I hadn't thought of that; you're probably right."

She gave a soft short laugh but then grew contemplative again. "I guess we really weren't all that close...there were times when I felt like my grandfather didn't really care all that much for me, but..."

"But you loved him," he finished for her; "And I'm sure he loved you too."

"I hope so."

"I'm sure of it," Jim stated. "He had been asking to see you a good bit after your sister's wedding and I know you've gone every time you've been called. It has to mean something, doesn't it?"

"I don't know...sometimes I think he just wanted me around because I somehow reminded him of my grandmother. Maybe my voice is similar to hers...or it's my hair color like he said at the wedding."

"Maybe you did remind him of her; but that doesn't mean he didn't love you for yourself, Jo."

"I know. I never really knew him to be an overly demonstrative man."

"I don't think many men of that era are demonstrative with affection. It must've been how they were brought up."

"My mother's father was affectionate."

"There are exceptions of course," he replied.

She grew quiet once again, her gaze focusing back on the television. He watched her subtly as the minutes and hours passed; knowing she was exhausted but she made no attempt to close her eyes and sleep. He didn't comment on it, she didn't need a lecture right now. Eventually he heard a small sniffle and his gaze was drawn back to her, seeing the tears spilling down her cheeks. He didn't prod her to talk; if she wanted to, she would…and he had a feeling that his presence was more needed than any words he could conjure up in an attempt to console her. Instead he took her hand; his thumb lazily caressing her skin as he allowed her to cry it out.

He couldn't help but feel helpless as he listened to her soft cries. He couldn't make it better for her; there were some things that just couldn't be fixed and all of those cliché statements about being sorry for the loss and that the person was no longer in pain and in a better place, always seemed to chafe more than help. At least that's how he had always felt when he lost a loved one. When you loved someone, there was no better place for them than in your life like they always had been. Maybe it was selfish, but it was true…and he was sure he wasn't the only one that felt that way.

By the time Johanna had cried herself out, she was half asleep; and as she tiredly swiped at her cheeks, she rolled over towards him and curled up against him. He carefully pulled his hand way from hers so that he could wrap his arm around her and settled her securely in his embrace. She shifted slightly; her head finding its way to his chest as a shuddering breath rippled through her slender frame. He ran his hand over her back; his warmth seeping through the soft blue cotton of her nightgown. Her breathing evened out as she finally allowed sleep to fully claim her. Jim dropped a kiss against her hair, and kept his hold on her tight as he mentally reviewed his schedule for the morning. There was no way he could leave her tonight...and truth be told, he hadn't intended to anyway. He didn't have to be in court until late in the afternoon and he was sure that his first appointment with a client wasn't until 9:30. He could be a little late in the morning. With that thought in mind, he allowed himself to drift off as well.

"Jo, what are you doing?" Jim asked as he stepped into the kitchen the next morning.

"Making breakfast," she answered.

"Why are you dressed for work?"

She looked at him oddly. "Because I have to go to work; so do you, but I figure you have time to eat before you go home to change."

"Johanna, I don't think you should go to work today."

"Why?" she asked as she placed the plate of pancakes on the table.

"Because you just lost someone you love. You're upset and your head isn't going to be in the game today. You're probably still tired too. You need to take today off. Get some rest and go be with your family."

She shook her head. "I have to go to work. I have clients coming in…"

"Sharon can reschedule them."

"I have to be in court at 2:00."

"Call and get a continuance, Johanna. You know they'll give it to you when you explain that there's been a death in your family."

"I'd rather just go and get the hearing over with," she replied; "And I don't want to reschedule my appointments and have my days so packed next week that I don't even have time for lunch."

He sighed; she was going to be stubborn. "Jo; I think you need to stay home."

"I'm going to work, Jim. Now sit down and eat."

He took a seat at the table and slid two pancakes onto his plate as she poured the coffee.

"At least ask for a continuance so you don't have to be in court today," he stated halfway through their meal.

She released an exasperated breath. "No."

"Why not? You know you're not going to be able to concentrate. What are you trying to prove, Jo?"

Her tired eyes narrowed at him. "I'm not trying to prove anything, Jim. I just want to do my job and as for my mind, I'm quite capable of keeping it where it needs to be."

"I think you're making a mistake."

"You're not the boss of me!" she exclaimed. "I can do what I want!"

He fell silent; he had pushed too much and she wasn't in the mood to be told what to do. He should've known better. "I wasn't trying to boss you around," he replied. "You're right; you can do what you want."

"Thank you."

Jim suppressed the small smile that her feistiness elicited as he took a sip of coffee. He had to be careful; her emotions were in an uproar and he didn't need to add to that. She knew what she was doing. He had to respect her choices.

"Do you want to ride to work?" he asked. "You can just go with me while I stop at home. I won't be long."

She shook her head. "No; I don't want you to feel rushed on my account."

"I won't."

"I'll be fine, you do what you need to do."

He nodded in acceptance and read between the lines; she needed space now. It was only right that he give it to her.

Late in the morning, Johanna laid down her pen and sighed as she rested her elbows on her desk and allowed her head to fall into her hands. She didn't regret her choice of coming to work; it was for the most part keeping her mind focused, but every so often a stray memory or thought would come to mind and she'd feel that pull of grief and emotion. She also felt badly about the way she had acted that morning. She supposed an overload of feelings was to blame for her less than stellar attitude but that didn't give her a right to take it out on Jim. She pushed away from her desk and picked up her coffee cup. She'd take a little break, grab a refill and go seek out her colleague to apologize.

As she entered the break room, her gaze landed on Jim as he refilled his own cup. Looked like she wasn't going to have to seek him out after all, she mused as she moved to the counter and sat down her cup. Jim turned his head towards her and smiled as he met her eye.

"What are you doing, Sassy?"

"Taking a break," she answered.

"Are you okay?"

Johanna moved towards him and wrapped her arms around him as she burrowed into his chest. His arms came around her without hesitation; holding her tightly as he breathed in her scent.

"I'm sorry for this morning," she murmured.

"What about it?"

"You took care of me last night and then I was bitchy this morning."

He gave a quiet laugh. "You weren't bitchy, sweetheart."

"Then what do you call it?"

"You were just being a little feisty," he replied; "And that's okay. I like your feistiness."

"I don't have a right to take my bad mood out on you though."

"Jo, I don't see where you took anything out on me," he stated as she forced herself out of his arms. "I knew you were probably going to be a little sensitive and I pushed too much. You raised your voice a little, it's no big deal. It's a bad week for you; hell it's been a bad couple of weeks, and if you need to let off steam, you do it. There's no harm done. I'm pretty sure I recall having an attitude with you when I called and asked you to find something for me in my office while my father was in the hospital."

"Yeah but I yelled back and you changed your tune," Johanna replied.

"Pretty damn quick," he laughed. "But I'm not going to yell at you…not even to make you feel better."

"Some friend you are," she scoffed teasingly.

"You have to draw the line somewhere," he jested; bringing a smile back to her lips.

She was silent for a moment before reaching for his hand and grasping it. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For letting me cry all over you again…and for staying."

"No charge," Jim told her. "Do you need a ride home from work tonight?"

She shook her head. "I better go to my mother's and see what's going on with arrangements and things."

"I'm sure you're dreading that."

"Yes I am…for a lot of reasons. It's partly why I wanted to come to work today. I'd just rather be here with you and Sharon…and put off the inevitable as long as possible."

"I understand," Jim told her. "Not that you have to explain yourself to me."

"But I want you to know why," she stated; and then a small smile curved her lips. "Grandpa would think it was silly to stay home anyway."

"From what you told me about him, I don't doubt that at all," Jim replied. "He probably thinks you showed good judgment."

"Or at least understands my reasoning."

"I'm sure you're not the only one in the family who got up and went to work this morning."

"I guess it doesn't matter if I am or not; this is where I wanted to be."

"Then this is where you belong," he stated; glancing around to be sure they were alone before he brushed a kiss against her lips. "If you need me, call."

"I will," she promised as she filled her coffee cup.

"I have a client coming in any minute," Jim stated; "So I better get back."

Johanna nodded. "Yeah, I better get back to that stack of work on my desk too."

He gave her a quick hug and kissed her cheek and then led her out of the room.

After work, Johanna took a cab to her parents house. Her aunts and uncle were congregated in the living room, along with a few of her cousins…and her sister. She murmured her greetings to them and was about to seek out her mother when Naomi appeared before her.

"Johanna, we've decided to hold the reception here after the funeral. I'll need your help with the cooking if you can come over the night before."

"When is it?"

"The funeral is Saturday morning. I figured you could just come over Friday after work and we'd go to the viewing together and then come back here and start getting things prepared. You could spend the night here."

"Or you can leave with me and spend the night with us," Valerie stated as she stepped into the room from the kitchen. "I'll be coming over Friday night to help too."

Johanna nodded. "I'll be here but I'll stay with Valerie and Frankie and ride with them to the services."

Naomi looked disappointed but she didn't voice it. "Alright, dear, I appreciate your help."

Frank entered the room and looked his daughter up and down, anger flashing in his gaze. "Did you go to work today?"

She froze; her tongue suddenly feeling tied.

"Answer me!"

She flinched. "Yes."

"I can't believe you!" he bellowed.

"I believe it,' Colleen commented. "Work is always the most important thing to her."

Johanna shot her sister a pointed look. "I'm glad to see that marriage hasn't robbed you of your ability to be a bitch, Colleen."

Colleen opened her mouth to respond but Naomi raised a hand. "Girls, this isn't the time."

They both fell silent but Frank wasn't finished. "You just don't have any respect for anything, do you?" he spat.

"Dad; it's not that."

"The hell it isn't!"

"Frank, I hate to tell you this but your son went to work this morning too," Valerie stated. "He didn't do it as a disrespectful act. He did it because there were things that needed taken care of and I'm sure the same is true of Johanna."

"Well I didn't ask you, now did I? Frank retorted. "You can just mind your own damn business. Why don't you go home and worry about your own kid. Seems to me that boy is with the babysitter more than he's with you."

"That's a lie!" Johanna exclaimed in her sister-in-law's defense.

"You're damn right it's a lie," Valerie stated. "I'm with my son all the time and I'm not going to feel bad about leaving him with a sitter once in awhile while I run errands or enjoy an evening out with my husband. It's good for Greg to be accustomed to other people anyway; it teaches him how to interact and be sociable. I don't think the hour and a half he's spent with my mother today will scar him for life."

"Honestly, Frank," Naomi chastened. "Valerie's a wonderful mother."

His gaze turned back towards Johanna. "You're behavior lately disgusts me."

She nodded. "I got the memo."

"Don't you be flippant with me!"

She sighed and looked at the disapproving looks she was getting from her relatives as they looked over her skirt and silk blouse, and the briefcase clutched in her hand along with her purse. The only exception seemed to be her aunt Bridget.

"Did you have to go to court today?" Bridget asked.

"Yes."

"That's no excuse," Frank countered.

"I'm leaving," Valerie stated as she grabbed her purse and keys.

"Now that I know what I came here to find out, I'm leaving too," Johanna remarked.

"You can come with me," Valerie said. "We'll pick up Greg and you can come home and have dinner with us. Frankie will take you home later."

She gave a nod and turned to Naomi to hug her.

"It's probably best that you do stay with Frankie and Valerie on Friday night," Naomi whispered to her.

"I know," Johanna agreed. "I love you."

"I love you too."

She said her goodbyes and then followed Valerie out the door; relieved that her visit had been short.

Friday morning, Jim stood by and waited as Johanna made sure she had everything she needed, not only for work but for the evening and the next day as well.

"Do you need a ride to your parents house this evening?" he asked as she double checked her overnight bag.

"No; I'm leaving work early; so is Frankie. He's going to pick me up and drop me off at Mom's. After the viewing, I'll go home with her and help her get things prepared for tomorrow and then I'll go home with Valerie and stay with them for the night."

"Are you okay with that?" he asked. "You can always call and I'll come get you and take you back in the morning."

"I'll be fine at my brother's. I'd rather ride with them to the services than with my parents."

He nodded as he allowed the topic to drop. He studied her for a moment, seeing a hint of strain in her features. She was quiet and pensive for the most part, and while he usually pried into her thoughts, he thought it best to let her have her privacy. She knew she could say whatever she wanted to him, and she would if she felt the need. That didn't keep him from feeling like he should be doing more though. He didn't know what it could possibly be, however. As she blew out a breath and flicked a lock of dark hair over her shoulder, he figured there was at least one thing he could do. He stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.

"Anything I can do for you?" Jim asked.

She gave him a small smile as she moved out of his arms. "Drive me to work."

"Sure thing, sweetheart," he replied; picking up her overnight bag and dress bag before she could even reach for them. She doubled checked her purse for her keys and picked up her briefcase and then allowed him to lead her out of her apartment and to the car.

Later that day, during a lull in business, Jim paged through the newspaper in search of Patrick McKenzie's obituary. He finally came across it and he took a moment to study the photo of the man. He was distinguished looking, and from the expression on his face, he figured that he was also a man who had been used to getting his way. His eyes then moved to the long column beneath the photo.

"Patrick Colin McKenzie, passed away on Wednesday following a brief illness…"

Jim had a feeling that it hadn't seemed all that brief to the man's granddaughter…and really, could four and a half weeks be considered brief?

"He was born September 16, 1891 and was the son of the late Michael Patrick McKenzie and Amelia Lorena Pryor. He was proceeded in death by his wife, Sarah Riley McKenzie in 1928; and two brothers, Ryan Michael McKenzie and Sean Harold McKenzie…"

Jim skimmed the section that detailed how he had made a name for himself in the shipping industry and founded his own company, P&S Shipping Industries; and how he had fought in France during World War One, earning accommodations for bravery. He skipped over the list of clubs and unions the man had belonged to and settled on the list of survivors.

"He is survived by two sons, Colin Michael McKenzie and wife Audrey; Franklin Patrick McKenzie and wife Naomi; two daughters, Margaret Amelia McKenzie Alkire and husband Hugh; and Bridget Elizabeth McKenzie Langston and husband William. Eleven grandchildren…"

He skipped over the names of Colin's children; his eyes seeking the names he would know; one in particular.

"…Franklin Patrick McKenzie Jr. and wife Valerie; Colleen Alexandra McKenzie Weston and husband Paul and Johanna Elizabeth McKenzie…"

"Make sure you get that Weston name in there," Jim said to himself as he smirked at the print that spelled out Colleen's name, and then he realized that Johanna had been listed last among her siblings because she was unmarried. He didn't know what was worse, listing her last or sandwiching her between her married siblings in the proper order. He wondered if it had bothered her when she had read it, but then disregarded the notion. She had too much on her mind to be bothered much about that. Still, he might make his second unnecessary trip down the hallway to look in on her. She was holding herself together; he hadn't seen her cry since the night Patrick had died and he wondered if she had made her peace or if she was merely shoving it down somewhere deep inside to be dealt with at a better time. He sighed, if that was the case, he'd just have to keep subtly reminding her that he was there for her if she needed a shoulder to cry on.

"I hate this," Johanna thought to herself as she stood among the mourners in the churchyard cemetery. She always hated these things, although she supposed there weren't many people who found enjoyment in funerals…but there were people who always seemed at ease at them. She was not one of those people. She never got used to funerals and she never quite knew what to do with herself when she had to attend one. She couldn't help but feel like the family of the person being mourned was on display; their grief being measured and judged. There was always someone who was deemed as not showing enough grief, and there was always someone who was deemed as showing too much. Finding a balance was so difficult. She shed a few tears while listening to the service, but when she felt herself being overcome with emotion, she tuned out, allowing her thoughts to drift until she had a hold on herself once again.

Johanna sighed quietly as the service dragged on. Her gaze drifted to the stone that bore the name Sarah McKenzie and she felt another pang of loss as she thought of the woman. What had she been like? What kind of person had she been? She had drawn a few conclusions during her time of answering to the woman's name to appease her grandfather and felt as though Sarah must've been a loving person and she imagined her to be beautiful. She wished she had gotten to know her grandmother…and somehow she felt cheated that she hadn't.

Frankie's elbow in her ribs jerked her from her thoughts and she refocused her attention as the service was wrapping up with one final prayer being said. She bowed her head and repeated the words; saying a silent goodbye to her grandfather when she finished. With the service finished, the crowd disbursed and Johanna silently fell into step behind her brother and climbed into the back of his car for the ride to their parents house for the reception.

Once Johanna was within Naomi's sight, she was put to work. She felt somewhat numb as she poured coffee, served food and accepted condolences. Numbness was welcome though, as was the task at hand. She needed her hands to be busy and something to focus her thoughts on. By one that afternoon, the guests began to take their leave. Her aunt Margaret retreated upstairs for a nap, while her aunt Bridget returned to Patrick's home where she had been staying since Colleen's wedding. Her uncle Colin went along with his sister. Frankie was dozing in the chair and Valerie seemed reluctant to wake him as she clicked on the television and flipped channels. Johanna volunteered to wash the dishes so Naomi could have a break. Naomi, in return, volunteered Colleen to help her in the kitchen.

Her sister dried the dishes in silence, and while Johanna was slightly bothered by it, she didn't feel like she should have to be the one to make the first move. She was always the one who had to give in…but this time she wasn't gong to do it. If Colleen wanted to speak to her, then she better open her mouth and do it. She was through being a doormat. When the last dish had been put away, Colleen threw down the dishtowel and marched into the living room.

"Paul, I'll be ready to go in a minute," she stated.

"Good," he muttered; his face showing relief.

Johanna smirked as she eyed him. Her brother-in-law hadn't spoken to her either. She supposed he was miffed about her taking down his mommy a peg and for rejecting his brother…oh well. Now that the wedding was over, more of his Weston snobbiness had shined through. She had overheard him complaining that this hadn't been a catered affair…like her grandfather's death should be treated as a high society party or something. She could also tell that the whole thing had taken entirely too long in his opinion. He'd have to get over it, she thought. He'd have to learn that the McKenzies did things their own way and in their own time. They didn't believe in rushing.

As she glanced towards Colleen and their father, she sighed again. She'd have to approach him when Colleen was finished. They hadn't spoken yet that day, although she had felt his glare upon her every now and then. They hadn't really spoken much at all since Patrick died but she overlooked it; knowing he was grieving and figuring he wasn't in the mood for conversation.

After Colleen had embraced their father and stepped away, Johanna moved to follow suit, only to have Frank roughly shove her away. Confusion flicked across her features as she eyed him. "What did you do that for?" she asked.

Frank glared at her. "I don't want your sympathy. I don't want anything from you. I've never been so disgusted with you in all your life."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about!"

She knew all right, she knew he was still furious that she had allowed her grandfather to address her as Sarah, rather than agitate him by correcting him. "Dad, it wasn't my idea. The doctor said it…"

"Spare me your excuses!" he thundered. "I don't give a damn what that quack of a doctor said; you should've listened to me! I'm your father, my word is what you go by. When I tell you that you're wrong, then you're wrong and you damn well better listen!"

Johanna's brow rose. "I'm a grown woman; I make my own decisions…and I think I'm more than capable of telling right from wrong. I wasn't trying to hurt anyone. I was just trying to give him comfort and peace."

Her father scoffed. "No, Johanna; you were just trying to be the center of attention as always. I bet you enjoyed your little playacting."

"That's a lie!"

"You're the one who lies! You lied to a dying man."

"It wasn't like that!"

"How dare you?" he yelled. "How dare you pass yourself off as her? You've never done anything this despicable before. You've sunk to an all time new low, Johanna!"

"Oh my God," she stated. "You act like I've stolen your mother's identity and I haven't! All I did was answer to her name when he spoke it."

"I believe that still falls under the category of pretending to be her; and you had no right!"

"How can I pretend to be her when I don't know anything about her!" Johanna yelled back. "You never say anything about her and neither does anyone else. It's like she's some big secret. Yeah, I answered to the name of Sarah, but everything else was all me! I couldn't pass myself off as her even if I wanted to!"

"Seems like you were doing a good enough job at it!"

She sucked in a breath; trying to keep her temper under control but it wasn't easy as she looked into his dark eyes which were snapping with anger; his face flushed red with his indignation over the whole thing. "Dad," Johanna said as calmly as she could; "I know you don't like to discuss your mother; and if I hurt you or upset you in some way by doing what they told me to do, then I'm sorry. I just wanted Grandpa to be comfortable…we all know that he wasn't in his right state of mind…but I don't feel like I did anything wrong. Surely you wouldn't want to deny a dying man comfort, especially when that man is your father."

"You're not sorry," Frank spat; "And you sure as hell didn't care about how I felt or you wouldn't have done it! You talk about me denying my father something; well didn't you deny me something by going against my wishes? You weren't thinking about me or him or anyone but yourself!"

"How was I thinking about myself!" she yelled. "How is this about me in any way? It was about him. You act like it was so easy and it wasn't! I knew you disapproved of it; I could feel your eyes burning into my back the whole time..."

"But you did it anyway!"

"That's right I did! I had a choice to make…and I made that choice out of love for my grandfather…as the last thing I'd ever be able to do for him and if you don't like that…well then that's too bad."

"It's always about what you need, isn't it, Johanna? And you always need something; you need to do something, you need to feel something, you need, need, need. You're the neediest damn creature there ever was and sometimes I don't even know how you can be my blood."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "And sometimes you wish I wasn't; isn't that right, Dad? Go ahead and admit it, it isn't anything that I don't already know."

"You just think you know everything, don't you? You think you have all the answers."

"Oh I know I don't have all the answers," she retorted. "My father has never seen fit to answer any questions I had."

"Poor little Johanna," Frank remarked; "She was so mistreated; she was fed and clothed and educated and given everything she wanted that was within reason."

"Not everything."

He laughed bitterly. "And then she grew up to be a martyr; bringing up her petty injustices whenever possible to show that she overcame them, to show that she's so much better than everyone else…especially her father."

She shook her head. "You're ridiculous."

"No you're the one who's ridiculous; you always have been! You don't have the sense God gave a goose. All your worried about is your precious little feelings."

"Well I guess I have to be," Johanna said tartly; "It isn't like my father ever gave a damn about them."

"Spare me your damn sob story!" Frank bellowed. "My God you're a pain in the ass; you always have been. You're the worst of my children. I can't stand you, Johanna. You get under my skin like nails on a chalkboard and sometimes it's all I can do to keep from reaching out and slapping you. Most of the time I can't even stand the sight of you! These weeks you've stayed away from here have been the most peaceful I've known since the day you were born! You're nothing but an ungrateful, selfish little brat who got far more than she ever deserved. You know nothing about respect; or at least you've never shown me much of it! There are days when I wish I didn't have to admit that you're my child!"

"Frank!" Naomi yelled as she entered the room and heard the last half of his exchange.

"Stay out of it, Naomi. It isn't any of your business."

"What do you mean it isn't my business?" she yelled.

Johanna's hands were clenched in fists at her sides, and her throat ached as she forced herself to swallow back her emotions. There was no way in hell that she would give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"I might be all of those things," she stated; her tone low and even; "But you're no prize either…you sure as hell aren't father of the year. I've known all my life that you hate me…and if it makes you feel any better, I wish I belonged to someone else too; because telling the world that I'm your daughter doesn't give me any great pleasure either. I know you have no use for feelings…or even common courtesy for the most part; but the majority of the human race does and I'd much rather belong to that faction of people than to the group you reside in. If I'm selfish, it's because I've learned it from you…I'm just fortunate that nothing else got passed on to me; because your flaws are far worse than mine in some ways. You're the most cold hearted person I know…and what's worse; I think you're proud of it!"

Frank's body language radiated rage as he glared at his daughter. "You get out of my house and don't you come back, you good for nothing little hellion. Don't you come back until you're ready to apologize for what you've done and have learned some respect!"

"Then I won't ever be back," Johanna declared. "I already apologized to you and I won't do it again; and as for respect, you ought to learn some yourself; you think you're so high and mighty. All you do is make a fool out of yourself!"

"Get out!" he screamed. "You get out on your own two feet in the next ten seconds or I swear to God, Johanna; I'll put you out myself!"

She spun on her heel and quickly crossed the living room; picking up her purse from the stand near the door.

"Johanna, wait; don't go," Naomi called after her.

"She better go!" Frank yelled.

"Oh I'm going alright," she retorted as she jerked the door open. "I don't want to breathe the same air as him for another second."

"The feeling is mutual."

She bounded out of the house, letting the door slam behind her but it reopened a moment later, her mother running out onto the porch calling after her as Frank remained inside, yelling, "Let her go, Naomi!"

Johanna kept walking despite hearing her mother's voice calling out. Her heart was twisted in what felt like a thousand knots as her father's words rang in her ears.

"I can't stand you...I can't even stand the sight of you."

She had thought that things were going better between them. She had foolishly believed that maybe the tide was turning in their relationship. In those weeks leading up to Colleen's wedding, she had felt closer to him than she had in a long time. "So stupid," she scoffed; her throat feeling tight, tears burning her eyes. She had told herself all along that it wouldn't last...and yet she had allowed herself to hope. Hope was so fragile; it crumbled so easily and turned to dust in the wind. Well that was fine. It was a hard lesson to learn, no matter how many times she went through it. This time would be different though. This time she got the point and there would be no more hoping for anything in regard to her father. He didn't love her; he never had and he never would. It was time that she accepted that and stopped allowing him in. She had to stop dropping her guard when he offered her a kind word once in a blue moon. She had to be stronger. She had to be tougher.

Johanna walked two blocks before stopping at a payphone outside of a small diner. She stepped inside the booth and dug in her purse for a dime; dropping it into the phone once she had found one. She dialed Jim's number and waited, almost giving up hope of him being home when the line finally clicked. "Hello."

She closed her eyes, the comforting sound of his voice bringing her emotions even closer to the surface. "Jim," she said; her voice cracking.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Her chin trembled, a soft bitter scoff crossing her lips. "I'm stupid."

"No you're not. Why do you say that?"

"Because it's true."

"What happened?"

She took a shaky breath. "My father and I are no longer on good terms ...and he told me to leave. Can you come and get me?"

"Where are you?"

"At a diner about two blocks from my parents house," she replied before giving him the name and location.

"Go inside and sit down, Jo," Jim told her. "I'll find you. I'm leaving now."

She promised him that she'd wait inside and then hung up. Her head felt heavy as she pushed through the glass door of the diner. After ordering a cup of coffee, she took up residence at a table near the window and waited; allowing her thoughts to run rampant as she stared vacantly at the surface of the table. How did things always end up going to hell?

….To be continued

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Beautiful Dreamer'.