"Jordan, you think I don't know that? Did you hear what I told you last night?"
I just looked at him, sadly. Not wanting to confirm or deny. All these emotions I was being swamped with were overwhelming. They would be for a "normal" person, as we all know I'm about as far from "normal" as you can get.
"I told you last night that I'll follow you to the ends of the earth, the depths of hell, whatever it takes. Jordan, I love you and I want to be with you. But I don't know how to make you understand that."
"Oh Woody." I did understand. Too well. But it was too big of a risk. The last time I let myself fall in love with someone. . . Still, whenever I thought about my feelings for Woody, Dr. Lisa Fromer's words echoed in my head. . . "Have you ever been in love? . . . I don't mean someone like your dog or your parents. I mean someone who you find, out of dumb luck, who makes your life everything you never thought it would be." But I couldn't. . .
"What Jordan? What? Talk to me. Let me in. Please." His eyes were so sincere. So filled with love. So. . . Enough to make me panic. I needed to get away. This was too much togetherness too soon.
"Woody, I don't mean anything bad by this, but I really need some space right now. A lot of stuff has happened and. . ."
"You need space? Fine. No one's keeping you here." He looked straight at me. If this was going to be a staring contest, it was one he'd soon lose. He did. As he blinked and looked away I made my request.
"Can I use your phone?"
"Why?"
"I want to call the station and see if I can get back into my apartment."
"Fine." He tossed the cordless phone at me as he turned and stalked out of the room. "I'm going to get a shower."
Jordan, Jordan, Jordan what the hell are you doing? The boy's crazy about you and you know you love him. But. . . This internal dialogue was going to drive me insane ~ assuming I wasn't already there. I had a guy who loved me enough to risk a thunderstorm to bring me in from the rain. Last night, lying there on Mom's grave, I'd begged and pleaded with her for help. The kinds of things I would have asked her if she was still alive.
Why wasn't Mom listening to me? I couldn't hear her voice anymore, no matter how hard I tried to find it. Didn't she know I needed her. Why did she have to go and get herself. . .
"Detective Winslow." Somewhere in the midst of my mental diatribe I had dialed Eddie's direct line, fingers going on autopilot.
"Eddie, hey."
"Jordan! Are you ok? Where are you? I mean. . ."
"I'm fine. I've been staying with. . .a friend. But I'm ready to go home. Do you know if. . ."
"Let me go check. Hang on sweetie."
Ok, only Eddie can call me that and not have me freak out. Why's that? Maybe because I know that it would never work "that way" between us. But at the same time, I know that he'd do whatever he needed to in order to keep me safe ~ and sane.
"Jordan?"
"Yeah?"
"It's ready. Just need an officer to officially remove the tape. And I can do that if you'd like."
"That would be great, Eddie. Thanks. I think Dad has my SUV at his place, but. . ."
"What's Woody's address? I can come get you."
"How did you. . .? Never mind. I'm sure he can bring me to the station when he comes in."
"Jordan, if you're that ready to go home, you're on the verge of doing something you're going to regret. . .'maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life.'"
"Ok, ok. Don't give me the whole movie." I laughed at him remembering the revival showing I'd dragged him and Dad to so many years ago. Well, I dragged Dad and Dad made his new partner come along in some weird "initiation rite" he concocted. "When can you be here?" I rattled off Woody's address.
"Give me half an hour."
"Ok. I'll see you then. Thanks Eddie." I hung up the phone and got the distinct impression I was being watched. I turned and saw Woody standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped around him and his hair dripping in his eyes. If I wasn't so sick of being cooped up and away from my own space. . .
"You called Eddie Winslow?"
"I need someone to get me back into my apartment."
"Why him?"
"Why not, Woody? He already knows the history."
"Which is exactly why I asked why him."
"Are you trying to pick a fight with me? Because I'm really not emotionally up to it right now. I called a friend. A friend, Woody. That's it." I just looked at him, half angry, half pleading.
"Fine. Whatever. I'll get my key later." He turned and walked into his room to get dressed. A few minutes later he strode out and moved towards the door. He took a quick look back at me.
"Woody? Thanks for letting me stay here. For taking care of me. For. . ."
"It's all I live for Jordan." He muttered under his breath so I almost didn't hear it. He turned back to me and spoke a little louder, "Oh, would you at least eat some cereal so I can tell Max that you did eat?"
"I hate cereal. But I'll have a slice of toast with peanut butter?"
"Fine." He motioned towards the pantry and headed out the door. "I'll catch up with you later. Bye Jordan."
Why did that "bye" have more of a sound of finality than I wanted to hear? Oh well, no time to worry about that now. I looked around the apartment. God it was messy. Mine's not the neatest thing in the world, but still. . .
I pulled the sheets off the sofa bed and threw them in my bag. The least I could do was take them to Dad's and wash them. Sadly, the only other shirt Dad had found was a ratty old t-shirt left over from some college party, so I decided to put the tank top back on. Just as I was finishing my straightening, there was a knock on the door. A quick check through the peep hole confirmed that it was my ride back to my place. I opened the door quickly.
"Hey Eddie. Come on in. I'm almost ready."
He looked at my clothes, somewhat rumpled from the night before. "I know that the storm from last night is over ~ it's bright and sunny out there ~ but it is still a little cool. Will you. . .?"
I looked around the room. I should really wash the sweatshirt as well. "I'll borrow this. It needs washing anyway." I pulled it over my head, noting that the sleeves were still in the position Woody rolled them to so they would fit. I took a look around the apartment. Looked ok. "Ok, I'm ready to go."
We rode to my loft making general small talk. I could tell Eddie was trying his best to make sure I was ok without actually asking me.
"Eddie?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"For what, Jordan?"
"For picking me up. For taking care of me that night. For. . .for being my friend."
"Jordan, it's not a problem. I'm glad that you do consider me a friend." He looked over at me and smiled. To my surprise I smiled back. "Alright, 227 Pearl Street. I do believe we're here." Great. Home sweet home. I hoped it was anyway.
We took the elevator up to the third floor. I was surprised to find myself tensing up as we got closer to my door. By the time we got there, I was fighting to control my breathing. Eddie sensed it too.
"Jordan? Are you ok? Is it too soon to be back here?"
"No, no I'm ready to come home. I just. . . Eddie, I know that you're only here to remove the tape 'officially,' but would you mind coming inside with me?"
"Not a problem. We need to make sure that nothing was damaged and nothing related to the case was removed. But even if there wasn't that I'd go with you." He slowly pulled the tape from the doorframe, making sure not to remove and paint with it. Then he handed me the key. My hand trembling, I reached out towards the lock and managed to slide the key in and turn it.
I don't know what I expected to find when I opened the door, but things were about as normal as they could be. Other than the remnants of a blood stain in the middle of the floor there were no reminders of the horrors that took place in the loft just a few nights before.
"Looks like things are in order." Eddie was looking around. "I think they tried to get rid of that stain. To really get rid of it, you'll probably have to sand the whole thing."
"Yeah. Or just get a nice area rug to throw over it." I was trying to laugh over the feelings of nausea and confusion and fear that were beginning to wash over me. I had to keep up a good face ~ that old Cavanaugh game face I'd learned all too well.
"Ok, does it look like things are ok?" Eddie guided me over the threshold and into the apartment. I looked around. Nothing seemed out of place or missing.
"Yeah, looks like things are fine. Thanks Eddie." I turned towards him to shake his hand, but he looked at me, concern surging through his eyes.
"Are you sure? I can always stay. . . Or call Max. Or Woody."
"No, no. I think Woody and I have had about enough of each other these past few days. And I don't want Dad to have to come back here until he's ready."
"Are you ready to be here, Jordan?" I knew Eddie meant well, but. . .
"I'll be fine. Thanks." Eddie just looked at me and nodded his head.
"Alright. If you need anything else. . ." He set the key on the counter that doubled as my table.
"I'll give you a call. Thanks again Eddie. I really appreciate it." I watched him move towards the door. Part of me was screaming inside for him to stay, that I didn't want to be alone, but the other part, that Jordan that the world saw, was trying to convince all of me that I was ok. That I could do it on my own. With one look back, Eddie stepped out and closed my door.
I stood there for a minute, just looking around. Finally it got to be too much and a primal scream escaped my lips.
Before I knew what was happening, the door burst open and Eddie ran in, sweeping me into a strong, secure embrace.
"Jordan, it's ok. I'm here. Talk to me Jordan. I know you're not talking to Woody and probably not to Max, but. . . Hell, Jordan. You need to talk with someone. I'm willing to listen. Without all the entanglements everyone else seems to provide for you."
It felt so good to have someone hold me like that. Totally different from Woody. With Woody it was great and I felt safe, but it was a different safe. It was a safe that came from being held by someone who was letting himself crawl down all the way into the mud hole that was my private hell. I wasn't sure he'd know how to get us both out.
With Eddie, it was different. He would get into the mud hole with me, but he was keeping a firm grip on a root attached to the edge. A root called non-emotional attachment. Or something like that. I never really paid attention to Stiles' psycho babble.
I looked up at Eddie. "You sure you want to go there?"
"If I didn't I wouldn't have waited outside for the breakdown I sensed was coming."
"Oh. Ok." So that was how he came in so quickly. And why he didn't lock the door. Was I that transparent after all these years I thought I was hiding things so well?
I moved towards my couch and Eddie followed. We sat down, but I wasn't sure where to start. Finally Eddie reached over and took my chin in his hand, gently pulling my face up towards his, but I knew it wasn't for a kiss.
"Jordan, look at me." Eddie's voice was gentle and I slowly raised my eyes to meet his. "I know that no one can begin to understand all you've been through. I know that. Not with your mother, not with your father, not with everything that's happened over the past few days, not with anything. Only you know that. And I'm sure Woody's told you that you don't have to go through it alone. . ." I chuckled at how well Eddie seemed to know Woody, especially for a couple of guys who really didn't work together. "But that's true. If it's too scary to talk with someone you care about as much as you do Woody. . ."
"Now wait a minute." I was indignant.
"Jordan, calm down. It's ok. Yeah, at one time I would. . .but that's a moot point. I just mean that maybe talking to someone who's a little more removed from the situation and not so emotionally involved could be a good thing."
"You think so?"
"I know so. Jordan, things haven't always been easy for me. You don't know this, but after everything with Max. . .I went through a really rough period. Almost quit the force."
"What?"
"Yeah. I knew in my heart that I'd done the right thing. Like I told you, Max was a danger to himself and everyone else at that time. But it was still hard. I'd ratted out my partner. And I'd broken his daughter's heart in the process. And blown any chance I might have had with her."
"Eddie, I. . ."
"Jordan, it's ok. I know Max would never have let me near you anyway."
"I didn't mean just that. I never knew about the stuff after Dad. . ."
"It's ok now. I'm over it. A friend of mine, totally neutral on the subject, sat me down and made me get everything out ~ a few years later. I didn't realize just how much I'd been holding back and in for all that time. It took a safe space for me to do that. And Jordan, I'm willing to be that safe space for you ~ no strings attached."
I just looked at him for a minute, trying to figure everything out. I felt tears pushing at my eyes when I heard, really heard my mother's voice ~ that voice I'd been trying to remember for 23 years and needed to hear so badly. "It's ok, baby. You can let me go. I'll always be with you, but you don't need to hold on so hard." I felt a couple of rogue tears slip over my eyelashes and slide down my cheek. Eddie didn't flinch. Just reached out and took my hand in his.
Why was it so easy for Eddie to get through to me? Maybe because he'd seen me ~ and Dad ~ at our worst? That old trial by fire stuff? Maybe because I knew that he really did know just how much it really does take for me to trust someone? I thought Woody got it, but he hadn't been there when. . .
I didn't think of it as cheating because first of all, nothing was going to happen between me and Eddie and second of all, nothing had happened between me and Woody ~ at least not that way. But Eddie had been there when Dad. . . He knew what it was for me to break down. He'd seen me when I was fired. He knew what a mess I could be.
Looking at him sitting across from me, I felt nothing other than a deep platonic love and respect for him. All he was required to do was to go with me to officially remove the police tape from the door. No one said he had to talk with me, to listen. To give me advice. It was too much. All the emotions I'd tried so hard to hold in check when anyone else was around ~ my breakdown in the graveyard not withstanding and since no one was there when it started I hardly count it ~ and it was Eddie who broke the dam.
His kindness ~ this person I'd hated for so many years because I held him responsible for Dad's losing his job was actually being kind to me. I didn't deserve his kindness. Yeah, we'd formed a kind of semi-easy truce before Woody was even in the picture. But still. I felt the dam beginning to crack. Maybe it's because Eddie was safe ~ there was no romantic attachment there. I just don't know. . .
I felt the hot tears increase and spill over my eyelashes and splash onto my cheeks in big, gut-wrenching sobs. Sobs like I'd never cried in my whole life, not even when Mom died. Eddie leaned over from his side of the couch to hold me as my body shook with my cries stored up for so many years. Tears for Mom. For Dad. For James. For Woody, who could never fully understand, no matter what he thought. For myself.
"It's ok, Jordan. Cry all you need to." Eddie stroked my hair, but it was completely non-romantic. He was being a true friend, comforting me when I felt like I had nowhere else to turn. He was unconnected from the emotions of the past couple of days ~ hell, largely the past 23 years ~ and that made him safe. Like a midwife helping a woman give birth to a child, Eddie helped me release the emotions I'd held inside for way too long.
I don't know how long we sat there like that, Eddie holding me and encouraging me to get out all the shit I needed to get out of my emotional system. Gradually my sobs turned to cries, then to whimpers, and then to a few silent tears. It felt so totally right to be communicating with Eddie this way ~ no illusions of love or anything else. He understood, probably even before I did, that my heart had already been stolen by someone else, and he asked nothing of me other than to just let him help me, let him be there.
Neither of us heard the keys in the locks on my door or the big red door creak open. We only heard Woody's wounded voice. "Well, maybe I'm not needed here after all."
