Blame It on the Super Hero
Chapter 4: Just Friends
The light in Jordan's office is on, it's after midnight, and I can't keep from groaning as I stop at the door and peek my head in. "I thought we agreed you were going home. Last night." I emphasize the last two words hoping to make a point.
"Paperwork," she smiles from behind the stacks of files in front of her.
"Delay," I toss back knowingly as I move into her office to sit on the couch facing her. "Come on, Jordan. What is it? What's bothering you? And don't tell me it's just this case… What exactly is going on in that pretty little head of yours?"
I watch her shift uncomfortably in her chair before she offers, "It's nothing, Nigel… really… it's just… well, you know it's harder when kids are involved."
I nod but I'm totally unconvinced. "Okay… yeah… right…" I continue to watch her as she distractedly pages through a stack of photographs.
I don't want to be a helpless bystander this time. Last time I watched her remoteness grow… watched her pull away… and not fully comprehending what was happening – I said nothing. Not this time. "Jordan?"
She looks up at me, "Yeah, Nige?"
"You know you have friends here… right? If you need anything… if you need to talk…"
She smiles, her eyes shining. "Yeah, I do… and… thanks, Nigel."
I stand up to leave and then I remember, "By the way, that pick-up last night was for Woody." I watch her closely.
"Oh?" is her only response.
"He asked about you."
"Oh." Her eyes are guarded and her expression reveals nothing.
This is getting me nowhere. "What's going on with you two?"
"Nothing," comes the quiet reply as she pretends to study one of the photographs.
"That's obvious – but, why? The on-again-off-again has imploded? Again?"
"I guess… we're friends. It's finally comfortable. But anything else…" she shrugs. "He's moved on."
"Do you really think so, luv?" I inquire, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.
"What are you saying?"
I can tell that I have her interest. "Just that sometimes appearances can be deceiving." Still her expression betrays nothing. "When's the last time you two talked?"
"Ummm, it was shortly after Lu's death. We hang out occasionally, but that's the last time we really talked."
I nod to let her know I understand. "But you're going to change that soon?"
Jordan studies me, "Why?"
"I just wonder… it seems there's more between you two than you'll admit – to each other… or yourselves.
"We are just friends, Nigel."
I wag my eyebrows at her. "If that's what they call it now."
She rolls her eyes at me and for some reason I find that reassuring.
"We, Jordan, are just friends," I motion with my hand at the space between us. "You and Woody are not just friends… and you haven't been for quite some time."
Picking up a photograph of the crime scene of Owen's father's murder from her desk, I examine it absently. "You know, luv, friends are not perfect." I look at her without raising my head. "At least 'perfect' wasn't in the job description when I applied."
I look up now and smirk at her. "We're not all good at everything… we have our flaws… our limitations… if you will," I continue, tapping the photograph against my open palm and then stop to study it again... the picture is of the Superman figure. "Even super heroes, Jordan, aren't good at everything… you know? They have their areas of expertise… their more developed super powers."
"Yeah?" She is smiling a purely Jordan smile. "And what, may I ask, are your super powers?"
"Oh… no, luv, I'm not the super hero type." I smile at her impishly. "I've always fancied myself a sidekick." I toss the photograph back on top of the stack on her desk and glance over at the picture she has in front of her. It's one she had me take of her and Owen… and it suddenly occurs to me…
"Jordan – what did you and Owen talk about?"
She seems lost in the photograph as she answers, "Mostly it was Super Hero 101," she offers. Then she looks up at me, "Hey, Nige – do you know anything about Captain Marvel?"
"You mean the super hero fans affectionately refer to as the Big Red Cheese?"
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," she laughs. That sound is music to my ears.
"He's also been referred to as the world's mightiest mortal, Captain Whitebread, and, mistakenly – as SHAZAM... which is actually the word that teenage Billy Batson uses to turn into the super hero. He is known for his always-sunny disposition and pure heart. And is… Why do you ask, luv."
"I should have known." Jordan is still laughing as she hands the photograph to me.
I notice – for the first time – the second super hero figure – red-clad, white caped – that Owen is clutching. "I see… so you really did get a lesson on super heroes."
She nods her head saying, "I had no idea there was so much… so many different…" She shrugs.
"And like I said earlier, luv… they're all different… different talents… different weaknesses."
"But they all fight evil… one bad guy at a time."
I nod at her observation as I hand her back the photo, and then I plead, "Now… Go home, Jordan. Get some rest… please."
XXXXXXXXX
Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud…
I need to find another source of aerobic exercise. It's that simple.
Thud, thud, thud…
Every time I've run this week, she's been here… with me… in my head.
Urgh… it's not only running. Last night… my first date with that hot… sweet… willing… redhead. Dinner… a moonlit walk… dancing…
And Jordan… was everywhere. Everywhere I went… watching… everything I did… in my head...
On Darcy's doorstep… leaning in… for a goodnight kiss… her eyes closed… her lips full – waiting – inviting… the look on her face… expectant…
And I kissed her on the forehead.
Shocked... She was… shocked. I was shocked. But it was all I could do… with Jordan in my head.
I just can't seem to shake her… Jordan… no matter how hard I try.
And I try… I really… really… try. But… not really.
It's not her fault...
She's been – perfect… the perfect friend… the perfect work partner… with perfect manners…
And her perfect body…
Thud, thud, thud…
It's not her. It's me. I'm not finished yet. I don't want it to stop here…
And last night… hell, every time I go out on a date these days… I feel like I'm being… unfaithful.
Unfaithful! To what? A memory? What might have been? An "if only"?
A woman who professes to be my friend… is my friend… my best friend. But looks at me with… so much more… than… friendship.
Or is that just me… my overly active imagination…
No, this…
He began to take note of the stirrings in his physical being. And to try willing the awakenings of certain parts of his body to dissipate. Thud, thud, thud…
…this isn't just my imagination.
Maybe if I tried talking to her.
Thud, thud, thud…
Unfortunately, right now… what I feel… I feel like doing a lot of things… with her. Talking… not high on the list.
Okay, okay… I give… I can't keep doing this.
I need to get home – shower – finish packing – take that drive I promised myself.
Thud, thud, thud…
Littleton Village… Quaint… Secluded… Quirky…
Without Jordan…
Thud, thud, thud…
Why was it I ever thought that was a good idea?