Chapter 5
God it was hot.
Woody wiped the sweat off his forehead with his shirt sleeve and glanced at the hayfield through his sunglasses. He had been in North Carolina for three years now and still couldn't get used to the weather. In the winter, ice storms would take out the electricity for days as power crews would struggle to get things back to normal. In the summer, the heat would blast the temperatures up into the 90's with the humidity levels running close behind. It would be so sticky outside that sweating didn't help you cool down. "How could Jake live here all his life?" Woody wondered. He got his answer soon enough.
Linda pulled up in her pick up with coolers of bottled water. Woody watched the huge man with the cowboy hat climb down from the combine and grab his wife around the waist and plant a big kiss on her lips. "That's why he stays," Woody thought. "Linda." In many ways, Woody envied Jake. He had a beautiful wife, one with the domestic abilities of Martha Stewart and the looks of a runway model. He had a daughter and a son on the way. Jake had roots in North Carolina. Woody didn't.
"Here you go," Linda called out to Woody, throwing him a bottle of water. "Catch!" She smiled at Woody, who pulled off his sunglasses and peered down at her. "Should a woman in your condition be out in this heat?" he asked. Linda was six months along.
"I'm only pregnant, not terminally ill," Linda retorted. "Besides, I've done this before, don't worry."
"Yeah, she's done this before," Jake replied, rolling his eyes at her. "Still don't make me worry no less." He came up behind his wife and put his arms around her expanding tummy, lowered his head and whispered something in her ear.
Woody turned away and put his glasses back on. Scenes like this tugged at his heart. It made his mind go back to Boston and a pair of warm brown eyes that were filling with tears three years ago. Three years. If it had of worked out, that could have been him putting his arms around a pregnant Jordan, whispering in her ear. He often regretted walking out that way. Jordan had kept trying to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. He figured she was trying to talk him into staying. Maybe he should have heard her out. Sighing, he told himself he did the right thing. He was better off, she was better off. "She's probably moved on with her life to the point I'm just a footnote on the page," he thought.
For a while he had discreetly kept tabs on her, not contacting her or any of her friends directly, but inquiring from a mutual acquaintance at the Boston Police Department. "She's working hard," was the answer he got. "She works at the morgue and works at The Pogue." After awhile his contact had let him know Max was back home. Woody had been truly glad for Jordan, he knew how much she missed her dad. Maybe that would give her some needed stability in her life. His contact also told him she was finally dating. After that, Woody had made no more inquiries. "The lady ME is getting on with her life," he had thought, with a pang of jealousy.
"Bye," Linda said, waving at Woody, bringing him out of his thoughts. He and Jake finished the hayfield without much talk. Later that evening, after supper, he and Jake were sitting in the rocking chairs on the front porch while Linda was upstairs giving Katie her bath.
"You want to talk about it now?" Jake asked.
"Talk about what?" Woody asked, tipping the bottle of beer back.
"Well, let's see. You were fine this morning until Linda came out to the field and you've hardly said a word since. It's been three years today since you came here and every time I ask you why you left Boston, you tip toe around the issue like it was a land mind. You've just had four beers and I've never known you to have over one a night the entire time you've been here. If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you're a man with something and someone on his mind."
Woody glanced over at Jake and tried to give him a "go to hell" look and couldn't. He lowered his eyes. "I guess I have enough Miller in me to tell you the truth," he said to Jake. "It's not a happy story."
Jake grunted and handed Woody another beer. He wasn't trying to get his friend drunk, but he was trying to get Woody to empty his soul. Whatever had happened in Boston was wearing him away. Physically, Woody looked healthy. The North Carolina sun had bronzed him and the hard labor on the farm had chiseled his body into a muscled, lean mass. But emotionally, the man was a wreck, even if Woody would never let on. Woody needed to talk this out.
"I'm listening," Jake said. "I won't judge."
Woody took a deep breath and began to tell Jake everything. He told Jake about Jordan and what happened.
"So let me get this straight. You make love to this woman, then you walk out and leave her when she's begging you to stay?" Jake asked.
The color rose in Woody's cheeks. "Yeah, I did."
"You abandoned her like everyone else did because it was for her own good and your survival?"
"You don't know Jordan, Jake. She was using me and everyone else to try to get answers. I got her out of more trouble than I can remember. It was hurting me professionally and emotionally. I couldn't deal with it anymore"
"So you took the coward's way out and ran without confronting her with it?"
"It wouldn't have changed a damn thing."
"Do you know that for sure?"
Woody raked a hand through his hair. "I don't think so. Jordan's Jordan. I don't believe she would change."
"She might if she finally got some answers," Jake replied. "It seems to me that the lady deserves some and she's tried real hard by herself to get them. When that didn't work, she started asking her friends to help her. Okay, so maybe she got a little carried away, but from what you're telling me, she's pulled your ass out of a few rough places, too. And when she turned to you that night, believe me, it wasn't for answers about her mother, her father, her brother, or just to get on your last nerve. It may have been for comfort, it may have been for love, but it sure as hell wasn't for answers. And you screwed up. You abandoned her just like they did."
Woody swallowed the rest of his fifth beer. "I did not abandon her. She pushed me away."
"Does she know where you're at?'
Woody thought about how careful he had been to cover his trail. As far as he knew, Jordan couldn't know. "No," he replied.
"Then you damn well abandoned her. And believe me, she wasn't pushing you away that night. Jordan was trying the best way she knew how to get you to stay. Let me ask you another question. Do you still love her?"
"I never said I loved her," Woody said, avoiding Jake's eyes.
"You didn't answer the question, wuss. I know you loved her or you wouldn't have run in the first place and gave up everything in Boston you held dear. I asked you if you still love her."
A pair of warm brown eyes swam in front of Woody's mind. He could see those tears and his heart shattered all over again. "Yeah, I do. Never stopped."
"Then my friend, let me give you a piece of advice. If she's really not the girl for you, you won't get over her moping around here in North Carolina. The answers to your questions are not here. They're in Massachusetts. And you need to get back there to find them out. You won't be able to really get on with your life until you go back to Boston."
God it was hot.
Woody wiped the sweat off his forehead with his shirt sleeve and glanced at the hayfield through his sunglasses. He had been in North Carolina for three years now and still couldn't get used to the weather. In the winter, ice storms would take out the electricity for days as power crews would struggle to get things back to normal. In the summer, the heat would blast the temperatures up into the 90's with the humidity levels running close behind. It would be so sticky outside that sweating didn't help you cool down. "How could Jake live here all his life?" Woody wondered. He got his answer soon enough.
Linda pulled up in her pick up with coolers of bottled water. Woody watched the huge man with the cowboy hat climb down from the combine and grab his wife around the waist and plant a big kiss on her lips. "That's why he stays," Woody thought. "Linda." In many ways, Woody envied Jake. He had a beautiful wife, one with the domestic abilities of Martha Stewart and the looks of a runway model. He had a daughter and a son on the way. Jake had roots in North Carolina. Woody didn't.
"Here you go," Linda called out to Woody, throwing him a bottle of water. "Catch!" She smiled at Woody, who pulled off his sunglasses and peered down at her. "Should a woman in your condition be out in this heat?" he asked. Linda was six months along.
"I'm only pregnant, not terminally ill," Linda retorted. "Besides, I've done this before, don't worry."
"Yeah, she's done this before," Jake replied, rolling his eyes at her. "Still don't make me worry no less." He came up behind his wife and put his arms around her expanding tummy, lowered his head and whispered something in her ear.
Woody turned away and put his glasses back on. Scenes like this tugged at his heart. It made his mind go back to Boston and a pair of warm brown eyes that were filling with tears three years ago. Three years. If it had of worked out, that could have been him putting his arms around a pregnant Jordan, whispering in her ear. He often regretted walking out that way. Jordan had kept trying to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. He figured she was trying to talk him into staying. Maybe he should have heard her out. Sighing, he told himself he did the right thing. He was better off, she was better off. "She's probably moved on with her life to the point I'm just a footnote on the page," he thought.
For a while he had discreetly kept tabs on her, not contacting her or any of her friends directly, but inquiring from a mutual acquaintance at the Boston Police Department. "She's working hard," was the answer he got. "She works at the morgue and works at The Pogue." After awhile his contact had let him know Max was back home. Woody had been truly glad for Jordan, he knew how much she missed her dad. Maybe that would give her some needed stability in her life. His contact also told him she was finally dating. After that, Woody had made no more inquiries. "The lady ME is getting on with her life," he had thought, with a pang of jealousy.
"Bye," Linda said, waving at Woody, bringing him out of his thoughts. He and Jake finished the hayfield without much talk. Later that evening, after supper, he and Jake were sitting in the rocking chairs on the front porch while Linda was upstairs giving Katie her bath.
"You want to talk about it now?" Jake asked.
"Talk about what?" Woody asked, tipping the bottle of beer back.
"Well, let's see. You were fine this morning until Linda came out to the field and you've hardly said a word since. It's been three years today since you came here and every time I ask you why you left Boston, you tip toe around the issue like it was a land mind. You've just had four beers and I've never known you to have over one a night the entire time you've been here. If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you're a man with something and someone on his mind."
Woody glanced over at Jake and tried to give him a "go to hell" look and couldn't. He lowered his eyes. "I guess I have enough Miller in me to tell you the truth," he said to Jake. "It's not a happy story."
Jake grunted and handed Woody another beer. He wasn't trying to get his friend drunk, but he was trying to get Woody to empty his soul. Whatever had happened in Boston was wearing him away. Physically, Woody looked healthy. The North Carolina sun had bronzed him and the hard labor on the farm had chiseled his body into a muscled, lean mass. But emotionally, the man was a wreck, even if Woody would never let on. Woody needed to talk this out.
"I'm listening," Jake said. "I won't judge."
Woody took a deep breath and began to tell Jake everything. He told Jake about Jordan and what happened.
"So let me get this straight. You make love to this woman, then you walk out and leave her when she's begging you to stay?" Jake asked.
The color rose in Woody's cheeks. "Yeah, I did."
"You abandoned her like everyone else did because it was for her own good and your survival?"
"You don't know Jordan, Jake. She was using me and everyone else to try to get answers. I got her out of more trouble than I can remember. It was hurting me professionally and emotionally. I couldn't deal with it anymore"
"So you took the coward's way out and ran without confronting her with it?"
"It wouldn't have changed a damn thing."
"Do you know that for sure?"
Woody raked a hand through his hair. "I don't think so. Jordan's Jordan. I don't believe she would change."
"She might if she finally got some answers," Jake replied. "It seems to me that the lady deserves some and she's tried real hard by herself to get them. When that didn't work, she started asking her friends to help her. Okay, so maybe she got a little carried away, but from what you're telling me, she's pulled your ass out of a few rough places, too. And when she turned to you that night, believe me, it wasn't for answers about her mother, her father, her brother, or just to get on your last nerve. It may have been for comfort, it may have been for love, but it sure as hell wasn't for answers. And you screwed up. You abandoned her just like they did."
Woody swallowed the rest of his fifth beer. "I did not abandon her. She pushed me away."
"Does she know where you're at?'
Woody thought about how careful he had been to cover his trail. As far as he knew, Jordan couldn't know. "No," he replied.
"Then you damn well abandoned her. And believe me, she wasn't pushing you away that night. Jordan was trying the best way she knew how to get you to stay. Let me ask you another question. Do you still love her?"
"I never said I loved her," Woody said, avoiding Jake's eyes.
"You didn't answer the question, wuss. I know you loved her or you wouldn't have run in the first place and gave up everything in Boston you held dear. I asked you if you still love her."
A pair of warm brown eyes swam in front of Woody's mind. He could see those tears and his heart shattered all over again. "Yeah, I do. Never stopped."
"Then my friend, let me give you a piece of advice. If she's really not the girl for you, you won't get over her moping around here in North Carolina. The answers to your questions are not here. They're in Massachusetts. And you need to get back there to find them out. You won't be able to really get on with your life until you go back to Boston."