~Jordan~

I tried to mask the look of shock that had to have crossed my face when Woody's mother showed me to the guestroom.

The double bed sat against a pale yellow wall looking like the bridesmaid's dress from hell. It was covered in a powder blue organza bedspread that swept the carpet in layers of ruffles and lace. The top was coated with dozens of pastel colored pillows each embellished with more lace.

But that wasn't what shocked me.

Every conceivable inch of horizontal surface in the room was crowded with pale faced china dolls of every shape, size and description, each with its own uniquely frilly antebellum dress. Their beady glass eyes all staring at the bed like it was some kind of elaborate human sacrificial alter.

"It's... lovely Mrs. Hoyt."

"Oh please call me Marianne, Jordan. I hope you are comfortable. Why didn't you get settled in while I finish dinner?"

She walked back down the hallway. I didn't dare breathe until I heard her steps on the stairs. I set my bag down just inside the door and wondered if it was too late to get a room somewhere.

"I wonder if it's too late to get a room somewhere."

I turned to see Woody standing just outside the doorway.

"What?"

"Cal stuck me with the top bunk..."

Cal moved out weeks ago. At least that's what he said on the trip from the airport. With his hand he motioned for me to follow him next door.

The room was obviously his and his brother's when they were younger. The walls were lined with posters and shelves full of treasures of the years they spent there. I looked over at the knotty pine bunk bed and bit my lip.

Cal had apparently taken an entire roll of yellow police line tape and wrapped the lower bunk tight. On the bound pillow was a note telling Woody he had better think twice about sleeping there.

"I take it you made him sleep on the top bunk most of his life."

"I'm older." He stated like it was his God-given right.

I looked toward the common wall between the two rooms and laughingly said. "You could always share with...."

"Hey you two, dinner is ready...!"

I jumped out of my skin at the sound of his father's yell from the foot of the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Woody~

Dinner proved to be only slightly painful. But I still left feeling like I needed a stiff drink. Dad seemed genuinely interested in Jordan's job an M.E. I was surprised Mom didn't jump in to say that talking about autopsies was not an appropriate dinner conversation. She was relatively silent until she served the cake and coffee.

"So Jordan, are you originally from Boston?"

"Yes ma'am I was born and raised in....on the south side."

"Oh, it's just I didn't catch a New England accent in your voice."

"I...I've moved around a lot."

"Do you parents still live there?"

"Mom this cake is great. Is it a new recipe?" I cut in.

I put a large forkful of cake in my mouth trying to dissuade her from questioning Jordan any further. That mid west housewife could teach the FBI and the CIA a thing or two about interrogation when she got on a roll.

"My dad still lives in Boston. My mother...ah....passed away when I was little."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. She must have been young. Cancer?"

"No murder."

I didn't miss Mom's silent gasp.

"Alrighty" I sprang up from the table. "Dinner was awesome Mom... as usual"

I placed a kiss on her check and began to clear the table.

"Woodrow, why don't you and your father go look at that boat while Jordan and I clean up here. Is that alright with you my dear?"

I stood behind my mother as she looked over at Jordan. Jordan eyes met mine for a split second.

"Surely, ....Marianne. Just tell me where to go."

Dad had to slap me on the shoulder to get me to turn away from Jordan's retreating figure as she followed my mother into the kitchen.

"I have a feeling that little lady can hold her own with your mother."

"I don't know which one I'm more worried about."

Dad laughed as we walked out to the shop. Dad's shop was the only place on the whole property that was his and his alone. He built it shortly after they moved in to the house. Cal and I have always called it 'Dad's shop' but through the years it has been referred to as everything from 'The Man's Domain' to 'The Dog House'. Depending on which way the wind was blowing.

He flipped the lights on and I listened with half an ear as he told me what was wrong with the boat. The room looked the same as it had for as long as I could remember. One side was taken up by his boat. The other side was a collection of tool boxes and a well used workbench.

A beat up old olive colored refrigerator stood sentinel as we walked in the door. An outdated varsity football schedule was taped to the front. Dad was proud to say hadn't missed a game in the twenty five years that he had been teaching history at the high school. Dad always kept that old refrigerator well stocked with beer. The humidor on top was never empty as well. Mom refused to have them in the house. Dad pulled out a cigar and offered one to me. I turned him down and grabbed a beer instead. As he lit his cigar he continued to talk about the possibility of selling the old boat and buying a new one.

Two mismatched recliners broken in by twenty or so Packer and Brewer seasons faced a 19" TV that sat on a shelf near the ceiling above the workbench. The picture was lousy....but I wouldn't have traded it to watch a playoff game in the heated living room for anything.

"Jordan's an interesting woman."

I was drawn out of my day dream. I looked over at my father as he began to gather the tools we would need to fix the boat.

"Are you two serious?" he said between puffs on his cigar.

I put my beer down and jumped up onto the boat. Dad handed me a screwdriver.

"We're just friends Dad. Nothing more."

"But I think you'd like it to be more."

"Well, yes...no... maybe, I don't know. At times it just doesn't seem to be worth the trouble."

"Boy, look around you." Dad opened his arms wide the stogie clamped between his teeth. "Sometimes it's worth the trouble."

A building out in the backyard is nothing compared to some of the crap I've had to put up with when it came to Jordan. I frankly didn't want to go there with my father. I asked him for the socket set instead.

I was fishing around inside the helm for the nylon washers that needed to be replaced when I heard Cal's truck pull up. He was just in time to give me a hand. Screw getting his hands dirty. The sooner we could get out on the lake the better. A few minutes later, although it seemed like an eon, I heard Cal's voice.

"Look what I found in the backyard."

Cal walked in the door hand and hand with Jordan. She didn't look any the worse for wear having spent time alone with our mother; although I didn't miss her reaction when Cal handed her a bottle.

"Since the relief pitcher is in the park I think I will go in and put my feet up." Dad said snuffing out his cigar on the standing ashtray next to one of the recliners. "Calvin don't be sitting in here all night drinking my beer. Go to your apartment and drink your own."

"Aye aye sir..." Cal replied with a cocky half assed salute. He draped an arm on Jordan's shoulder as they watched Dad walk toward the house.

"The crosses we bear.....You see what I mean, babe."

I felt like I missed something while Jordan was being found the backyard.

"Cal you want to grab that three-sixteenths down there for me?"

"Always the boss, aren't you big brother."

"I'm going to 'boss' you the side of your head if you don't take your hands off of Jordan and get over here."

Two hours later Cal and I were crammed together on the floor of the boat wrestling with the last of the repair. Cal had his arm buried deep inside the dash tightening the last of the watertight connecters. His clean t- shirt and cutoffs were covered with the thick axle grease that Dad used when he winterized the boat.

Jordan sat in one of the recliners her leg thrown over the arm. She was watching a baseball game. After a few beers she began to animatedly swear at umpires, who were calling the plays somewhere out on the coast, like they were standing right next to her.

"Does she always do that?" Cal asked.

"It gets worse during hockey season. Scary isn't it?"

"Heck no it's turning me on."

I gave Cal a look that could melt lead and he only smiled at me. A second later I heard the tell tale click of the last connecter being set. Cal pulled his arm slowly out from under the helm. He grabbed a shop rag and began the wipe off his hands.

"Well that should do it." Cal stood and jumped over the side of the boat. "You should be able to handle it from here bro." He walked over to the refrigerator and reached up to grab a cigar out of the humidor. "I'm going home and hit the shower and drink some of my own beer. See you in the morning. 'Night Jordan."

Jordan looked away from the TV for a second to wave good night. With one last string of 'South Boston Have a Nice Day's' she stood up and turned it off. She stretched her arms over her head for a moment. The short tank top she was wearing rose to show off a wide band of her smooth mid drift. Maybe Cal had a point.

I needed to get my mind back on what I was doing. I tightened the last of the dashboard fasteners. Jordan walked over and folded her arms on the side of the boat.

"Dad says Hi..."

"You talked to him?"

"Your mother insisted I call to check in and tell him we made it here alright."

I could almost see what Max's face looked like when he answered to phone. Jordan's call probably had the opposite affect on him than what my mother intended. I wouldn't be all that surprised if he showed up on the door step by morning demanding to know what was going on.

"I'm sorry about my mother."

"Don't lose any sleep over it farm boy. She's just concerned about you."

"I'm sorry I dragged you here."

"You're just full of sorrys aren't you? Where does this go?"

She held up a wench and I pointed to the tool box on the floor. Within minutes we had the place put back to normal.

I sat down on the cement floor and leaned against the boat trailer's wheel. I still had half of a warm, flat beer left. Jordan set down next to me leaning against my shoulder. I put the bottle to my mouth it didn't taste that bad at all.

"Jordan, I don't think I've thanked you for coming here with me. It means a lot."

"I kind of sensed that. Is boating on the lake kind of like that quail hunting bonding thing with you two?"

I chuckled into my beer bottle. "No, not exactly. I mean we've spent a good portion of our lives on the lake. It's just..."

The air sat silent for a few moments.

"It's just what Woody?"

"You're going to think it's stupid. At the time I thought it was a great idea. But after I had a chance to get a good night's sleep I realized just how dumb is was."

"Try me."

I set the beer aside and leaned on my arm that was placed in back of her.

"I always thought Cal left the Marines because he was bored with it. I was just a little off. While he was in Boston he told me one of the reasons he left was because of a picture I sent him of me and....a couple of other people spending the day on the boat."

"Annie and Bobby"

I couldn't hide the surprise from my face. She took pity on me and answered my unasked question.

"Your mom talked about them while we were drying the dishes."

".....Oh."

"So you thought you could reenact the whole thing for Cal this weekend."

"Dumb huh?"

I was surprised when she leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"No, I think it's kind of ...sweet. You really need to make sure Cal thinks so too..."

"I just hope his reaction is not the same."

"You'll have to take that up with him."

She rubbed her hands down her pant legs and began to stand up. I reached out and pulled her back down across my lap.

"I'd like to take it up with you." I said jokingly.

I was blown away when she just smiled, wrapped an arm around my neck and placed her lips on mine.