Chapter Eighteen

Woody never answered Jordan's question. About the time he opened his mouth, Eddie Winslow breezed through the door, interrupting their conversation. Jordan gamely said good-night and went back to her lonely apartment. She kept hoping Woody would call. He didn't. I guess I have my answer, she thought.

So, as she always did when she was trying to sort out her personal life, she went back to work with a vengeance. She was trying to let go of him...trying to forget how much she loved him and wanted him. And the more she worked, the less she had time to think. And the less she had time to think, the less she hurt. Work became her ally, her friend, her support system, her therapist.

She still saw Woody daily. She would go over to his office when she knew Eddie or Annie was there and change his bandages. Always when someone was there. She didn't want to talk with Woody on a personal level. Until one day he called her. "Guess what tomorrow is?" he asked.

She knew. "You get your bandages off."

"Yeah, I do. I was wondering if you would like to take me....I mean, I know Eddie or Annie would if I asked, but you've sort of seen this thing through. Thought maybe you'd like to walk this last step with me."

Jordan paused for a minute. "Yeah. What time do I need to pick you up?"

At ten o'clock the next morning, Jordan and Woody both were nervously pacing the exam room. Finally, Dr. Little came in. "How's it going, Woody?"

"Can we please just get this over?" he asked. In a few minutes, he would know if he was a full-fledged detective again or a blind dairy farmer.

"Sure. Have a seat. Jordan, could you turn off all the lights except the one in the corner. Dim that one." Jordan flipped the light switch and rotated the dimmer. Then she went to stand behind Dr. Little. The doctor removed the bandage that wound around Woody's head. "Okay, Woody. I want you to shield your eyes with one hand. Then slowly open your eyes. Things maybe a little fuzzy at first..it may take you a minute or two to focus. Just let it happen." Woody put his hand over his eyes and Dr. Little slowly removed the eye pads. Jordan watched, chewing her bottom lip.

Slowly, Woody opened his eyes and blinked. Then he blinked again. His world came into focus and all he could see was a pair of whisky-colored eyes, anxiously watching him. "I can see," he said softly. And then louder, "I can see." Jordan saw his face break out into a smile – a full Woody smile, dimples and all.

Dr. Little left the room to finish the paperwork and leave them alone. Jordan walked over to Woody and gently hugged him. "I am so happy for you," she said. "You just don't know...."

"It's all because of you," he whispered in her ear. "Thank you, Jordan."

Jordan didn't know what she expected after Woody regained his sight. He had made it clear to her that he wasn't interested in her other than a substitute for Devan – a role she had no desire to play and wouldn't. So she continued to work, spending nights back at the morgue again, like she had before Woody went blind. She toyed with the idea of calling Dr. Beechler back, but North Carolina no longer had the appeal it once did. She rarely saw Woody anymore. After Dr. Little's appointment, he had gone back to his apartment and she had gone back to hers. He had a lot to catch up on.

And it went this way for several weeks, until Jordan was on call and caught one of his. A homicide. He was at the scene, giving orders, acting like the old Woody. She performed the basic field exam, gave him an ETOD, and helped load the body into the van. "I'll meet you in autopsy," he told her, as she was getting ready to drive off.

She got the body back and moved it into Autopsy Two. She was so immersed in her work, she didn't hear him quietly come in behind her. He stood there a full five minutes, just silently watching....her. It was like he saw her for the first time...the same sensation came over him that did three years ago when she answered his call at the bank robbery....the time they first met. Except it wasn't. Back then, he didn't know her....what kind of person she was....It took everything he had not to reach out and touch her.

"Hey," he said finally.

She turned and removed her face shield. "Oh, hi...didn't expect you here this soon. Let me show you what I've got...." And she proceeded to tell him everything and give him her report. Except he couldn't hear her. He was too busy drowning in her eyes. "Wood?" she finally asked. "You okay?"

"Um. Yeah. Sure. Anything else?"

"No...not now. I'll have my full report to you tomorrow. Is that okay? Is that soon enough?"

"Sure, Jordan."

"Oh...and Woody...how are your eyes?"

He smiled. "Fine...still wonderful."

She smiled back at him and nodded.

He had to get out of there, fast. She made him feel like a heel. Despite the fact that on more than several occasions he had been a real bastard to her, she had only lost her patience with him once -- that night at his apartment. She had always been ....always concerned about him and his eyes.

He mentally kicked himself. Repeatedly. He had royally screwed up....with Devan....the way he acted with her.....He knew the reason he was so short with her...impatient. He wanted her. Back the way it was. When he knew her body, soul, and spirit. He wondered if he had damaged things so badly that would never happen again.

He also knew that if he was to win the girl back, the ball was squarely in his court. Jordan would not force herself on him....not cling....not cry after him. Her tears in his apartment the other night was as close as he would ever get to that.