Christmas Morning – Kewaunee, Wisconsin (Woody's POV)
I roll over . . . her body is wedged against mine. She's snoring softly . . . our flight landed in Milwaukee late last night . . . the drive was long . . . three inches of virgin snow on the roads. The house was silent . . . the clock says that it's only four in the morning, but I am wide awake.
I savor the silence of the early morning . . . it is one of the only times that I can be alone with my thoughts. Most of our time has been occupied with hearings and the beginning of the Jacobson and Davidson trial. Jordan was called to testify twice . . . once as a medical examiner . . . the second time as a victim. Garrett, Bug, and Nigel were slated to testify within the next week . . . they said the trial was a piece of cake compared to presenting their evidence to the governor. I'm glad that my part is done . . . three days on the witness stand . . . talking about everything you could imagine . . . death threats, bombs, the postal service . . . everything right down to why Jordan and I fled the state.
The worst days are yet to come . . . the Demani sentencing and the Ellington trial. Everything about those days are going to be so graphic . . . Julie, the DA, has asked Jordan to make a personal statement to Demani prior to his sentencing . . . Jordan is trying everything possible to get out of it. She says that she's moved on . . . that she's just going to let it go . . . her nightmares tell me a different story. She wakes up in the middle of the night gasping . . . reaching for her neck. Dr. Stiles keeps telling me that this is normal . . . the trials . . . they are going to make her remember things . . . those words are going to consume her life. He says my job is to make sure that Jordan knows this is over . . . to be patient with her . . . just be there to talk or to listen.
She does talk about the last few months . . . for the woman that would never talk about her feelings, some days I can't get her to stop. She will roll over in bed . . . and just blurt out something about how she feels. I'm lucky that most of the time she is thinking about the good times . . . she likes to talk about being in Wisconsin . . . sometimes she talks about moving . . . she tends not to focus on Dalton Park, Leopard and Lace, or the gas station . . . she would drive on empty rather than ever go there again. I understand her fears . . . I know I have my own . . . I refuse to let Jordan sleep alone at night . . . I stay up until she is asleep . . . I check all the locks on the doors . . . I sleep with my cell phone on the nightstand and my gun in the top drawer of the bureau. It's hard not to be a little paranoid . . . but my paranoia is limited strictly to taking care of Jordan. I can finally walk down the street without scrutinizing the intentions of everyone that I see . . . I don't think everyone is a murderer . . . I don't think every politician is a sleaze, but it has shaken my belief in how we recruit and elect our political representatives.
I kiss her forehead . . . her eyes flutter . . . she looks up and smiles . . . I'm not sure if she's still sleeping. So much changes over the course of a few months.
"Merry Christmas," I whisper . . . she smiles again.
"Sometimes you are such a big kid . . . did you always wake up at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning?" Jordan says . . . she's still smiling.
"No, I'm not used to sleeping in a bed this small," I quipped . . . she laughed as she gave back some of the blankets she had been hoarding.
"We should have taken the sofa sleeper," Jordan replied . . . we let Max have the more comfortable bed . . . we didn't want him to be alone on Christmas . . . Mom insisted that he join our family for the holidays.
"I want to go show you something," I said to Jordan . . . I sat up . . . swung my legs over the side of the bed . . . the floor freezing against my bare feet.
"Woody, no . . . it's too early," Jordan said as she pulled herself to a sitting position.
"No, it's the perfect time," I said as I pulled on my clothes . . . Jordan reluctantly got up . . . disappeared into the bathroom. I quickly pulled on my shoes and set out Jordan's winter jacket, hat, and mittens . . . I quietly ran outside. I had commissioned my nieces to make two snowmen . . . a man and a woman. I slipped the ring on one of the snowgirl's fingers . . . I snuck back to the house where Jordan was waiting impatiently in the bedroom . . . she said that she was still tired, but she took hold of my hand as we snuck out of the house.
"Aren't they perfect," I said referring to the snow-couple.
"You woke me up to show me snow?" Jordan asked . . . she made a snowball and threw it at me . . . hitting me square in the back.
"My nieces made them . . . you should go look at how good of a job they did," I replied . . . suddenly getting nervous.
"They're nice . . . very nice work for a five and six year old . . . ," Jordan said trailing off as she saw the ring glimmering in the moonlight . . . it rivaled all the stars in the sky, "Woody?"
"Jordan, I love you so much . . . I need you so much. Will you marry me?" I asked her . . . she whipped around to see me down on one knee . . . she kneeled down next to me . . . kissed me . . . tears running down her cheeks, "Jordan, you need to say yes or no."
"Yes, yes," she whispered as she hugged me . . . kissed me again, "I love you."
I loved her too . . . sometimes I was amazed with how much good had stemmed from so many ugly things. Dr. Stiles once asked me if I could turn back the clock, would I . . . I'm not sure that I will ever have the answer. I, of course, wish Jordan didn't have to live with all the physical reminders of being attacked . . . twice . . . being violated . . . once. But then . . . I wonder if she would have ever fallen in love with me without the last few months . . . I wonder if I could have handled just being her friend . . . watching her flirt with other men . . . maybe watching her get married someday.
So much has changed . . . we've been to funerals . . . we've been to baby showers . . . we've sat at the edge of hospital beds . . . supporting each other the entire time. We were lucky . . . so lucky that what now is called 'the political scandal of the century' has done nothing, but make us stronger.
"Aren't you supposed to put the ring on my finger?" Jordan asked . . . snapping me out of my thoughts . . . she threw another snowball at me . . . I threw one back at her . . . her laughter was infectious . . . it was better than I ever know . . . she didn't laugh much . . ever, but something has lightened in her.
"I can't if you attack me," I said as I pulled her close to me . . . her breath warm against my cheek . . . her nose bright red even in the moonlight.
"Well, we can call a truce until morning . . . Susan said Cal and you used to have these 'snow wars' every Christmas morning. I'd like to help you this year," Jordan replied . . . I pulled off her glove and slipped the ring on her ring finger . . . she asked me not to put her glove back on . . . she just wanted to see it glimmer in the moonlight a little longer.
Jordan was paying for my brother, Cal, to fly in from LA. Cal in turn was going to be able to see his girlfriend and son for the first time in over a year . . . he didn't come home much. We didn't talk about him much, but I missed him. Jordan knew that seeing my family was important . . . so she pulled as many strings as she could . . . all without me knowing . . .she said it was but one of my Christmas surprises.
We walked back to the house in silence . . . I wrapped her left hand in my hand . . . she still refused to put on her gloves despite the nearly arctic air. We tried to sneak back into the house . . . like teenagers . . . giggling . . . kissing.
"Jordan, are you trying to wake up the whole damn neighborhood?" Max grumbled . . . he stood next to the door in his robe and the thick flannel pajamas that Jordan had bought for him.
"No . . . I was trying to wake up the whole county," Jordan replied.
"Woodrow, I hope you didn't wake up the cows," Susan said laughing . . . she knew . . . Max was out of the loop . . . but Mom knew . . . she was the one that thought up the idea.
"I'm sure they will live," I replied.
"What the hell were you doing out in the cold? You probably have frostbite on your nose," Max ranted.
"Dad . . . it's okay. I'm glad that I went outside to see the snowmen . . . one had a little surprise for me," Jordan said . . . Max's jaw dropped when he saw the ring.
I had never felt so happy before . . . the joy of the moment was enjoy to wash away what felt like a million years of pain.
I knew that it would only get better from here.