Jordan sighed as she turned the key in the lock of her father's house. She hadn't been back since the black out. A house too full of memories, she thought. Dad...Woody...and now this. She absent-mindedly folded her arm across her tummy. A protective gesture...and in some cases, defensive.

She had left that day after her doctor's appointment – although ran was a really better word. She called Garrett at home and said she really, really needed some emergency leave time. She would explain later, and yes, she had a damn good excuse. She'd only be gone a few days and she promised, on her life, that yes, she would be back. Thinking that maybe Woody had asked her to marry him, and she needed time to think, Garrett said yes.

So she packed her bags and left, heading South along the coast. She called Woody's apartment when she knew he would be at work and left a message on the machine: "I'm going away for a few days...just need to think, Woody. Be by myself and think. I have a lot of decisions to make...and so do you. Maybe a few days apart is just what we need....you know? Anyway, I'll be back in three days. If you need me, call me...but I really need to be alone. And no, I won't do anything stupid, I promise. And yes, I will be back, I swear." She had driven on through the night, sometimes crying, sometimes just humming along with her radio...but always noticing the call light on her cell phone kept blinking...he was trying to reach her. But she just didn't feel like talking. Not to him. Not to anyone. She really wished her dad was here.

The ocean seemed to speak to Jordan...to calm her nerves and her fears. She stopped at a bed and breakfast for the first night. She spent hours walking along the beach...watching the gulls, listening to the steady pounding of the waves, feeling the cool sand between her toes. The second day she had slept in, nearly until noon, not realizing how much her body was craving rest. She had gotten up, dressed, and bought lunch, spending the afternoon at the local shops. On impulse, she bought a large, gauzy, white top – normally three sizes too large for her. She figured that as her waist expanded, the blouse would come in handy as a maternity top...her first purchase on her journey to motherhood. She didn't know whether to grin or grimace.

She ended up at an ice cream shop...and ordered a scoop of low-fat chocolate yogurt. There was a family in there...Mom, Dad, and a little girl...with brown curls and big blue eyes. Jordan normally never really noticed kids...they just had never surfaced in her circle of consciousness...but this one did. She smiled to herself as she watched the young child lick her way through a messy cone of strawberry, leaving pink, sticky trickles down the sides of her mouth and on her blue shirt. Such a pretty, little thing. Then it hit her...the reason the little girl caught her attention is that she looked much like what a child she and Woody may have together....brown curls...blue eyes...freckles. She turned away and put a hand on her tummy.

Then she knew... she had to get back home. Home to Boston. Her responsibility became crystal clear...she had to get home to get things ready for her baby. She could no longer run...in any sense of the term. She was going to be a mother. She had repacked her bags and drove like the devil himself was behind her. Back to Boston...back to home...back to Max's.

And that's where she was now...in the kitchen, if not of her childhood home, at least the only home she really wanted to remember. The house where she had found her mother's body...she didn't like to remember that one. She seldom wanted to drive past it anymore, no matter how many secrets it held.

She wasn't here to reminisce, she was here to plan...to measure....to see how she and the baby would fit.

As much as it pained Jordan to face up to the fact, the apartment on Pearle Street would have to go. She hated that fact. She had been through so much there....it held memories, both good and bad. But mostly, it had been an anchor for her...a place she knew she could go back to for solitude, peace...and to lick her wounds on more than one occasion. However, the rent was high, even for an old apartment like that. Her father had willed her the house...it was paid for. She could move in there, have more room, and save several hundred dollars a month in rent. She stopped, put her bags on the table and walked over to one of the drawers in the kitchen. She pulled out a carpenter's tape measure and made her way upstairs. There was a half bath down stairs and a full bathroom upstairs. That had always been enough for her and Max. She may have to put another full bath in later...when the baby was older.

She planned on converting her bedroom into the baby's room. It was the smallest, but coziest bedroom, with a dormer window that overlooked the front yard. She had sat in the window seat many afternoons, waiting for her dad to come home...reading a book...doing her homework. The seat lifted up and would be a perfect toy box. Max hadn't changed the room when she left home...it was still painted lavender....her favorite color during her teenage years. That would have to change...as soon as she knew if she was having a boy or a girl. Mentally, she scoped out a plan... crib here, changing table there. She could keep the bookcase and thank goodness for the closet space. This would work.

The guest bedroom she was going to leave alone. Max had used it mainly for storage...she planned on doing the same, at least for right now. It was pretty empty at the present. Jordan had gone through it after he died, throwing or giving away most of the stuff. She took a deep breath and opened the door to her father's room. She hadn't been in this room since he had left....to search for and conquer his own demons...a journey that had taken him first to Canada, then England, Ireland....and finally back home...She hadn't had the courage to go in...it was like invading holy ground. She chuckled....her dad would have loved that.

Everything was as he left it. Neat. Tidy. She would have to do something with his clothes...the suitcases that he had with him in Ireland were still sitting by the closet. Nigel had brought them in...and took them upstairs out of her sight. She took out the tape measure and began to plan for this room. She didn't want her dad's creaky box springs and mattress, or his bedroom suit. They weren't her style, and she wanted her waterbed from the apartment. She had to make this room seem hers, or she feared she may go crazy out of grief for her dad. It would fit...and the room was still big enough to give her room for her small desk, her dresser, and a few of her other things. There was only one thing left to do...his closet. Swallowing hard, she opened the door. Max had been a neat freak. There was really nothing for her to do but give his clothes to Goodwill. But the smell that came wafting out of the closet....it was all Max....his cologne...the smell of the beer from the Pogue....Jordan found herself fighting back tears before she knew what was happening. Shutting the door, vowing to see if Lily could come and help her through this one afternoon after work, she turned....but the tears wouldn't stop.

It was like all the grief she had been bottling up for weeks came rushing out of her now. Sobs began to tear at her throat. Dad...how could you? How could you leave me when I needed you the most...I wonder if you have any idea how much I need you now? Max would have made short order of Jordan's situation, offering any help she needed. Of course, Max would also want Woody to marry her....and would be pitching a royal fit that it wasn't happening. She closed the closet door and walked downstairs...continuing to plan.

She would keep the dining room suite...the living room furniture would have to go. She wanted her own. She would keep all of Max's kitchen stuff....he had a better kitchen set up than she did...not that she cooked that much. Of course, that may change with the baby....She was so engrossed with her thoughts, she nearly didn't hear the knocking at the front door. She walked over to answer it. It was Woody.

He looked like he had been through hell and back again....and lived to talk about it. He looked worried, angry...and something else Jordan couldn't put her finger on....

"You're back," he said, greeting her as she swung open the door.

"I told you I would be...I just needed some time."

Woody was just about to tell her how he really felt...how she had worried him...and he couldn't tell anyone why...how he had gone just a little crazier everyday because he wasn't sure if she was okay...until he saw her face and realized she had been crying...and he had to know over what.

"What's the matter Jordan? Is everything okay? The baby..."

"The baby's fine, Woody. Honest. I just....just...," her voice was catching. "I just miss my dad." And her face crumpled, much like it had that day in Garrett's office when Eddie had told her of Max's death.

He pulled her to him then, holding her close, rubbing her back in small circles, hoping to ease the pain...he didn't imagine Jordan had given herself a whole lot of time to grieve...first with the Pogue and now with her pregnancy. He just held her and let her cry it out....just like he did that day in Garrett's office.

He held her for what seemed like endless minutes, rubbing her back, stroking her hair out of her face. Finally, she gave one last hiccupping sob and drew back, looking him in the face. "Sorry...."

"There's no need to be sorry...you've probably been needing to do that."

She nodded. "It had been building up."

"So what are you doing here, Jo? I thought you'd be back at your apartment."

She took a deep breath. Now was as good of a time as any...she needed to tell him. "I'm giving up my apartment, Wood. I'm going to move back in here. It's bigger...plenty of room for the baby...and I won't have to pay rent. I'll save money..."

"Jo...I've told you, I'm going to help with the baby....both in taking care of him or her and financially...."

"I know...I'm just trying to think ahead...plan for once in my life."

Woody was a little shocked. Evidently during the time Jordan was gone, she had been doing some thinking...some very good thinking. Woody had figured she was on her way to running again and wasn't sure where he would have to go in order to bring her home this time. But she had kept her word. She came home. She was fine. The baby was fine. And she had planned. "Well, it's true about the room," he finally said. "There is more room here than at your place."

"And it's a good neighborhood for kids....lots of families."

"And the park is right down the street."

"And the schools are good, if I don't want to send him to a Catholic school."

So far Woody agreed with her thinking...she was thinking ahead...thinking of the baby. He nodded. "But Jordan..."

Jordan felt her spine stiffen. She sensed what was coming next...

"What about us?"

"As parents? I hope you plan on having an active role in our baby's life..."

"That's not what I mean and you know it. I want to marry you."

"Why? It's not necessary nowadays."

"It is for me....We're having a baby....it's only right..."

That's what she was afraid of. That she would be an obligation – something he must do...something he must take care of – and nothing else. And her feelings for him ran too deep for that. That thought...the realization that he was there only out of a perceived sense of responsibility would kill her emotionally...and destroy any of the feelings she may have for him. No, she would much rather just remain friends and parents...she may have to keep her feelings hid from him, but at least she wouldn't end up emotionally numb and hating him.

"No...No, Woody. No marriage."

Woody turned around and ran his fingers through his hair. He was frustrated to no end with her. What did she mean, no marriage? He wanted to be there the whole time for her and the baby.

"You know your dad would turn over in his grave if he heard you say that...given this situation."

Jordan caught her breath sharply. Ouch...that hurt, she thought. "I know... but despite that, I know you Woody Hoyt. You're a good man. You will do what's right by this baby, whether we are together or not. That's just the way you are...you always try to do what's right. I hope our child takes after you ...."

Now it was Woody's turn to catch his breath sharply...What is she saying? "Jordan? What do you mean?"

"I mean that I know you'll always be there for the baby...always. And you'll be the perfect father...I'm too messed up myself to be June Cleaver or Carol Brady. But I will love him...and I'll do my very best for him or her.

As for us...Woody, you and I both know that as the years would roll by, you'd just end up frustrated with me...I'm not good wife material...And I couldn't bear the thought of you hating me before it was all over...I've had too many friends go through divorce...it's too painful. We can be parents together, and I can be your best friend...I will watch your back...make sure nothing harms you. But can you honestly see us together? I'd drive you nuts inside a month."

Woody wanted to tell her that not being with her was driving him nuts...forget about anything else. And yes, he could see them together. He wasn't as set in his ways as she made him out to be.....He could see them working together, playing together...making love together and enjoying the hell out of all of it. He could see them mowing the lawn together, attending PTA meetings together, and holding their baby together when it was christened. He could see it all – with them together. Rocking the baby and then, years down the road, rocking the grandchildren. He could see them chasing a bunch of dirty, half-naked children upstairs in order to coral them into the bathtub – together. And he could see them in their twilight years, being together, with their kids, grandkids, and maybe, if they were lucky, great-grandkids. Most of all, he simply could not picture his life without her...doing so was too painful to admit.

Woody sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Okay Jordan...I'll drop the subject. I won't mention marriage again right now. But I'm not promising it won't come up again. Yes, the baby is mine. And yes, I will love him or her and take care of them. However," he continued as he walked up to her and tapped her on the chest, "I think you're wrong about yourself. I think you're going to make a great mother....and I think you'd make a great wife...just because you're you. Jordan Cavanaugh. And I can't and won't take no for an answer. I not only want you in my life, I need you in my life...."

"Woody, I don't think..."

"No, Jordan...you're wrong. Maybe you can forget what it was like that day we made love....but I don't. I remember what I felt...I remember what you felt...how you felt...and what you said." He pulled her back into his arms. "And you can't say you don't want it to happen again." He kissed her then, a brief, but hard caress and let her go. "I'll be close by, Jordan. I'll be there for you this entire pregnancy...for backrubs or sonograms or weird cravings. I want to take care of you...and our child." And with that, he left, closing the door firmly behind him.

He walked down the sidewalk...angry...hurt....frustrated...longing. He got in his car, pausing long enough to run a weary hand down his face...What was wrong with her? She could do this alone, but it would be so hard...being pregnant...having the baby....taking care of everything. She had so little faith in herself...he could see their future together clearly. He sighed. He knew what he had to do...get her to see the same picture he did.