Jordan left Dr. Stiles office and walked across the street to the park. She sat down on one of the benches and watched the kids play on the swings. They were so happy, so carefree. And here she was with a major decision to make.
'I could start over. I could be anything. I could leave Boston and become a new person,' she thought. 'I could be a florist, own a coffee shop, be a teacher….I could marry and start a family.' That thought startled her for some reason.
But the idea, at least of starting over, was appealing. Creating herself anew. At least that way her headaches wouldn't bother her. She could have fresh, new memories in a fresh, new place.
But she would be alone.
That was not appealing. She realized that even though she couldn't remember a lot about Nigel, Bug, Peter, Lily, and Garrett, they were a big part of her life. The morgue felt like home. They felt like family. Family. She didn't even know if she had a family. No one had mentioned it and she hadn't asked. It was one of those things that she knew instinctively that her mind didn't want to remember. Maybe they were all killed in a horrible accident. May she was an orphan.
And then there was Woody. Woody, with those blue eyes and flashing dimples. Woody – the person that she felt most secure with. She couldn't just walk away from him. What was even more important, she didn't want to. She was aware he was holding back his feelings for her in difference to her memory – or rather lack of it.
No, her life was in Boston – good and bad memories. Sighing, she got up from the bench. It was time. It had been nearly six months since the accident. It was now or never. Retrieving her cell phone from her pocket, she called Dr. Stiles. He answered on the second ring.
"Do it," she said. "Plan this intervention. It's time. I'll deal with the pain – all of it."
"You're sure."
"Positive."
=======================================
Dr. Stiles called Garrett and had everyone except Jordan meet in the conference room at the morgue after work. Briefly, he explained what was about to take place.
"What is important is that each of you confronts her with your relationship with her in the past. This is not an intervention, per se, but close. Your need to tell her what went on, but there are no accusations. I'm sure that with some of you, Jordan will accuse her own self enough for everyone. She's extremely fragile right now, but open to this.
"It's to be done as gently as possible and I'll be there. It may involve going some places that were important to her. Like her mother's grave. It may involve blood, sweat, and tears, but we'll get her through this and we will all survive. I've talked with her doctor and she will be on her meds while we go through this.
"This is not going to be easy on either you or her. Don't expect it to be. I would recommend that you get a good idea of what you're going to say before you talk with her."
"What do we need to plan to say?" asked Bug.
"Just tell her some of the things that you and she did in the past. How you helped her. How she helped you. How you feel about her. For some of you, it won't take but a little while. For others of you," Dr. Stiles glances over at Nigel, Woody, and Garret, "it may take awhile. The trick is to give her enough to start thinking about that her memory triggers in."
"What about that wall – the thing that keeps her from remembering? How do we deal with that?" asked Nigel.
"You don't. That's where I come in."
"How do we start?" asked Woody. He wasn't excited about the possibility of seeing Jordan in such pain again. He didn't know if he could handle it, and he was still staying at her apartment with her, bunked out on the couch at night.
"We start a little at the time. Probably with Peter, then Lily, then Bug. Then we'll move on from there. Are we all agreeable to this?"
Everyone nodded and left the conference room. Dr. Stiles snagged Nigel by the arm and motioned for Woody and Garret to stay behind.
"I really think we need him here," he said. "She's going to have questions about her family and he figures in so prominently in her past that he needs to come home. What do you think?"
Garrett nodded. "I had thought about that. We're just not sure where he's at."
"I know. I've looked through her apartment and can't find anything about where he is," said Woody. "Unless she didn't figure it was important and threw the information away."
"Can you find him?" Dr. Stiles asked Nigel.
"If he's alive, I'll find him," said Nigel. "And I'll get him back."
"Good," said Garrett. "It's time that Max came home."
==========================================================="Are you ready?" Dr. Stiles had asked Jordan that this morning. It was now after five. She wasn't sure she was ready then and she still wasn't sure she was ready now. She had talked with Peter and Lily today. They had told her so much. There was so much information. She wasn't sure how she was going to handle Nigel, Garrett, and Woody. She knew she had been even closer to them.
Dr. Stiles had been great, pausing Peter or Lily when he saw Jordan was becoming overwhelmed. With Peter, there hadn't been too much. He had just relayed to her how grateful he was that she had worked so hard to get the CDC to the morgue during the snow storm when he had contacted a strain of e coli.
But he had also told her that she had tried to get him to perform tests on evidence and turn the results over to her and not the DA. He had told her that in the past, she had literally run over anyone when she was pursuing the truth of a case. And she didn't seem to care. Jordan had felt her cheeks redden and she apologized to Peter. When she asked about what case it was in question, neither Peter nor Dr. Stiles would answer her.
And Peter had been quite sweet about the whole thing. He said he knew she was just after the truth, and that she had always stood up for the underdog. He said she cared more about speaking for the dead and their families than anyone he knew – she had more compassion in her little finger than he did in his whole body.
Lily took a little longer. She talked about how Jordan had encouraged her when she came back as grief counselor. How much she cared about people. But then Lily echoed Peter's words…her relentless pursuit of the truth. 'How could I be so cold?" she wondered. She wondered if she was still that way.
She reached out a hand to run it down her face and noticed the hand was shaking. Slowly, she walked back to her office. Dr. Stiles was finishing up with Lily and then she knew he would be in to talk with her. Not bothering to turn on the lights, she sank down on the couch in her office, and curled up in the corner. She needed to pull herself together before Stiles came back.
"Hey," said a voice from the doorway. It was Woody. Jordan looked up and gave him weak smile.
"How'd it go?" he asked.
"It went. You know, Wood, it seems I'm a real piece of work, you know that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Peter and Lily both told me that I cared about people, but I would do anything to anyone to get at the truth. Is that right?"
Woody picked up Jordan's hand and began to rub small circles on the back of it. "You pursue the truth with great passion, Jo."
She sighed. She wanted nothing more than just to meet with Dr. Stiles and go home, take a hot shower and go to bed. Right now she was in overload. And although her head wasn't hurting yet, she knew it probably would.
"Okay, Jordan, how are you feeling?" asked Dr. Stiles, coming into the room.
"Overwhelmed, tired, and not liking myself very much right now."
"Why?"
"It seems like I would do anything to anyone in order to get my way, or get at the truth."
"Now Jordan, that's only their perspective. When you get your memory back, you'll have the whole picture. Because then, you'll know why you did it. It won't seem like such a random act."
"And how exactly is all this supposed to help me get my memory back?"
Dr. Stiles wasn't about to tell her that. "Trust me Jordan, it will. How's your head? Any pain?"
"No…"
"Maybe it won't happen this time."
Jordan looked doubtful. "I think I'm going to go get my pocketbook out of the locker room and go home."
Woody stood up to follow her, but Dr. Stiles put a hand on his arm to stop him. "Any word on Max, yet?"
Woody shook his head no. "Nigel's been working on it nonstop for two days and nothing yet."
"He's got to come back."
"I know he will….it's just finding him."
"You're staying with Jordan tonight?"
"Yeah."
"Keep an eye on her. I don't know if the headaches will come or not. And I plan on letting you talk to her next to last – we'll do Bug tomorrow, then Garrett, then Nigel, and you. Max needs to be last, if he comes back."
"Why me next to last….she's known Garrett and Nigel longer?"
"But she's not in love with them."
"And you think she's in love with me "
Dr. Stiles smiled. "Oh I know she was before the accident. It's just making her remember."
"Are you sure this intervention thing is going to work?"
"There are no absolutes, but I am very hopeful."
"What is this going to do to her – she's so worn out already."
"That's just it, Woody. It's going to wear down the wall she's put up in her mind. That's what these headaches are all about. Every time her memory want to come back, one part of her brain, the part that is protecting her from all the past pain, kicks into gear. This literally causes the brain, the mind, to fight itself – one part wants everything back to normal – the comfortable place where it was at before the accident. The other part of her brain is saying 'You know, that is way to painful and we're tired of dealing with it. So let's just forget it—for good'."
"You know, I think if you'd just tell me about my past, we could cut to the chase and get this whole thing over with," said a somber Jordan from the doorway. The men did not hear her come up.
"Sorry Jordan, I can't .It's important that you remember on your own," said Dr. Stiles.
"And what if I can't?"
"Oh I think you can," said Stiles, "and furthermore, I think you will."
=====================================
Jordan and Woody went back to the apartment. Woody flicked on the TV and tried to distract his mind from what had happened by watching a few minutes of ESPN. Jordan went and took her shower, threw on a t-shirt, and got into bed, hoping sleep would come quickly. Her head did not hurt, which surprised her. But there was a deep restlessness in her soul.
Was she that difficult to get along with? Did she really run over people that badly? And the question that tormented her the most was what made her pursue the truth that passionately? She tossed and turned trying to figure it out. But nothing would come. The memories weren't there…but the headaches weren't either.
Yet despite all that she did, these people remained her friends. Why? And if they were her friends, why did she feel so alone right now?
She wanted to know why. She wanted to know the truth. She wanted to know it now.
And the person who probably knew, was sleeping in the room next to her.