Chapter Seven

The days hung still for Woody. He had no idea whether it was day or night. In his world, now, it was always dark. He marked the passage of time by the changing of the shifts of the medical staff.

He had company. Eddie Winslow. Lois Carver. Annie Capra. And a half a dozen other detectives he had worked closely with over the past several years. Even the chief came by...promised him a citation, a promotion, a medal. It was all dust in Woody's mouth now. Everything he had worked for...cherished ... had been stripped from him in a blinding moment of duty.

His eyes. The doctors had examined him. And re-examined him. The optic nerves were fried. Whether it was from the chemicals in the meth explosion or the light and heat from the explosion itself, no one knew. And it really didn't matter. Time would only tell if the nerves could repair themselves. Until then...he was off-duty with pay. "Give it time," Eddie had said, when he arrived with the news. "There's all sorts of procedures...God only knows what they'll be able to do for your eyes. Transplants...laser surgery."

Woody didn't have the heart to tell him that none of that had to do with nerves or their repair. That all dealt with lenses. He knew. He had asked the doctors the very same questions himself.

So he lay there in the dark...his own personal night...wondering what he was going to do. The job security and chance of promotion for a blind detective was nil. Unless he suddenly took a great liking to paperwork. Which he didn't and wouldn't. He was too active to see himself planted behind a desk for the next twenty-five or so years. So what did that leave him? He didn't know.

He sighed and moved restlessly in his bed. Devan hadn't called. Not that he really expected her to. When she had told him about her new position in Paris, he had been excited for her. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and she knew it. So did he. He also knew that she wasn't about to let a small-town detective from Kewuanne hold her back. He had been the one to put her on the plane. And he had been the one that returned to Boston to try to sort out his personal life before his world went dark.

Jordan. She hadn't called him either, although the nurse at the desk said she would phone them every morning, getting an update on his condition. Sometimes twice a day. She never asked for her call to be transferred to his room. Garrett had been by. Said she was very busy, still trying to decide what to do about North Carolina. Woody was under the impression that Garrett hoped she would take the new job. Not because the chief ME necessarily wanted her gone, but because he felt the time away would be good for Jordan...both personally and professionally. Woody had a feeling he was the personal reason Garrett wanted her to go.

Nigel had dropped by for a few minutes. Things were still pretty awkward between the two men. Nigel was resentful that Woody had hurt Jordan. And Woody didn't know what to tell him, other than it was a mistake. A huge mistake on his part. A mistake he wanted to rectify, but didn't know how. He had asked about Jordan, but Nigel had been pretty noncommittal. She was still pondering North Carolina. She was still working hard...they all were. Now they were covering for both Peter and Devan. A new ME, Sydney, had been hired, but it was going to take a while to get him acclimated. Woody got the impression that the employee crunch at the morgue would be the only reason she would turn down Duke and Chapel Hill at this time.

He rolled to his side, his back to the door, feeling around for the switch to flip off the TV. The nurses left it on to keep him company. He may not be able to see it, but he could hear the news...sports...music. Right now, it was just a painful reminder of what he may have lost...his sight...his profession...his girl. He dozed off to sleep.

She stood in the doorway a long time, not sure if he was asleep, or deep in thought. Without being able to see those blue eyes of his, she really couldn't tell. Finally, not seeing him move or toss around in bed, she surmised he was resting. She quietly turned away from the doorway and took a seat outside his room.

For days she had stayed away. Days that had seemed like months. She had been busy...too busy...with two ME's short at the morgue, she could have worked 24/7 and not kept up. But the new guy was there....and another ME had been loaned out to them from another morgue until Garrett could hire someone else. She and Nigel both had been ordered to go home and not show their faces for at least 48-hours. Get some rest. Direct orders from the DA.

But her hectic schedule wasn't what really kept her away. She wasn't sure he wanted to see her...that she had a place, a right, to be by his bed. She knew his parents had not been called...not even Cal....at his request. He hadn't wanted to worry them until he knew something definite.

And definite was coming soon. Jordan knew this for a fact. She had gotten on quite chummy terms with the head nurse of the morning shift. She was the one Jordan called every morning on her coffee break at the morgue to find out how Woody was doing. At 10:15, every morning, she would pick up her cell phone and call the nurse to find out about him. How was he...mentally and physically. The nurse, Gwen, kept her up to date.

Then this morning, Gwen hadn't waited for Jordan to call. Gwen called her. Woody was ready to go home. But he couldn't leave unless he had someone to stay with him, or somewhere for him to stay at. He still wasn't ready to go fly solo blind. Jordan had spent the morning in a great deal of thought. She had walked the park and ended up at his apartment...to her surprise. Sometimes her subconscious did a number on her. Today was one of those days. She still had a key. She let herself in and went into his bedroom...breathing in him...his scent...their memories.

To her surprise, there were no pictures of Devan...nothing....it was like she had never been in the apartment. No stray sweaters....no blonde hairs....no lingering scents of Devan's perfume. Only Woody. Truthfully, she had never been in Woody's bed...nor he in hers. They had had an understanding...when it was over, when her past demons had been tamed...then...they would take all the time in the world...and make love. She had shaken herself over that memory. She had waited too long to cage her monsters. Making love to him...with him wouldn't happen now.

But what was she going to do? Go to North Carolina and spend the next two years in Duke's program? Or stay here and take care of him? Garrett had warned her she would have to make a decision. He had been right. He hadn't tried to persuade her too much either way, just make a decision she could live with...and its consequences. She had walked into his bathroom and faced herself in the mirror. She knew what she had to do. Or at least offer to do. Her wall had to come down...the one she had erected to keep him from hurting her in some way. She had to leave herself open to that...open to the fact that she could bring him into her apartment...back into her life...take care of him...show him how much she did love him...

And he could turn around and walk back out of her life without so much as blinking a blind eye.

But could she live with herself if she at least didn't try?

So she was here waiting. Waiting for the doctor to come in. And Gwen. They were going to talk to him. Soon she saw Gwen heading for Woody's room, followed by the doctor. "Stay outside for just a minute..." the nurse had whispered to Jordan, "If he knows you're there...he may not agree."

She heard them talk to Woody...that he was ready to go home...they could do no more for him medically, other than wait for three to four weeks to see how the optic nerves were healing. Did he have somewhere he could go? Someone that could stay with him?

Jordan saw his brow furrow and him shake his head. "I don't know...I guess I could call my brother, but he just started a new job...Mom and Dad aren't able...they can't leave the farm that long...Can I have a few hours to think this one through?"

She quietly slipped through the door and came to the side of his bed. In his confusion and desperation, he hadn't heard her come in. Gently she reached down and took his hand. "You can stay with me."