Chapter Thirteen

Woody watched as Eddie kissed Jordan goodbye and walk to his car. He jealously wondered what the MSBI guy had said to her to make sit down in the sand and stay there for so long. A part of him wanted to go to her and find out what, if anything was wrong. A muscle tightened in his jaw…he was determined to find out…as soon as she got back.

He heard her come in, a few minutes later. He was about to confront her, but she spoke before he could begin. "Could you help me a minute? The doctor said I could take out my stitches today…I may need you to help me with my shoulder."

"I don't know anything about…"

"It's simple, really. I'll talk you through it. Watch me do my side." She motioned for him to follow her into her bathroom. She removed the ones in her side, quickly and professionally, wincing only once at a sensitive spot. "Do you think you can do that for my shoulder?" she asked, peeling her t-shirt away from her arm.

"I don't know, Jo. What if I hurt you?"

"You won't. I'm ready for these damn things to come out." It would be another step in her life returning to normal again.

Woody carefully clipped the ends of the stitches and gently pulled them out. "You okay?" he asked as the last one was discarded.

"Never better." She turned to him with a smile, only to find he hadn't moved…their lips were only a fraction of an inch apart. Before she could draw another breath, he was kissing her – lightly, sweetly – not like last night…He released her only to press another soft kiss on the scar at her shoulder, then gently settled her t-shirt back in place.

Jordan's stomach was doing flip-flops as he looked into her eyes again. He looked down into her eyes, and quietly asked, "What did Eddie want, Jo?"

"Is that what this is about?"

"No…but I'd still like to know….what did he say?"

"He just wanted to know if I was okay…"

"Are you?"

"I'm just fine, now that the stitches are out," she answered, trying to lighten the mood.

"That's not what I mean…"

"Then what are you talking about?"

Woody sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, did you ask him to come back to Boston?"

Jordan gave him a puzzled look. "What?" Then it hit her. Woody had indeed overheard her and Eddie's conversation at the Pogue weeks ago…the one when Eddie told her he would come back to Boston and make life sweet for her, if she wanted it. But why on earth would Woody be interested in that? He was no longer interested in her…once he got back to his white collar crimes office and his new, plush apartment, she was sure that she would fade from his mind like a bad dream.

"Did you?" he asked again, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"No. No I didn't. Why?"

"I just wanted to know."

She arched an eyebrow at him, a clear sign that she didn't believe him.

"Okay, I needed to know….I mean, we haven't exactly kept up with each other since…"

"Yeah, I know. Not since Devan…..not since you left homicide." She pushed away from him. "For your information, I've been too busy for anybody. First I had my job and the Pogue. Then, after Dad came back, Garret pushed me on my ME job… training, promotions….I've been too tied up, tied down, and worn out to sustain any relationship…and then, after… after…anyway, I'm just not in a position to have anyone in my life right now. Unlike you….I hear you've dated nearly every eligible female in the greater Boston area. And left a string of broken hearts behind you and didn't give a damn."

Woody stopped hearing her midway in her tirade…after what? He stopped her before she could get out of her bathroom, blocking the door with his body. "After what, Jordan?"

"Nothing…."

"No. It's something…or you wouldn't have let nearly slip and then try to cover it up. After what?"

"I really don't want to talk about it, Woody. Please let me out."

"I think you need to."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

To her horror, she felt tears begin to burn her eyes. "Please, Woody, just let it go."

"No. After what? Did something else happen about your mother's murder? What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?"

She had found herself in trouble…serious trouble, but it had nothing to do with her mother's murder. If only it had been that simple. "No," she finally managed to get out, "It had nothing to do with that."

"Then what?" He noticed the tears threatening to spill over. "You can tell me, Jo," he said, coaxingly. "You used to tell me everything…what is it?"

"If I tell you, will you promise to leave and let me get a shower, and never mention it again? Forget I said anything?"

"I can't promise that…and you know it. If it concerns you, we may need to talk about it. But I promise I will only talk about it to you…and only under circumstances that you'll be comfortable with."

She nodded and leaned back against the sink. She wanted space between her and him when she told him…it was beyond her control, but she still felt victimized and guilty all at the same time. Lowering her head and her voice, she began. "About six months after you left homicide, I had to go in for my yearly physical. You know…the woman thing. My pap smear came back cancerous. I had to go in for some procedures on my cervix. The good news is that I'm healthy…they got it all and I've been fine ever since. I go back every three months now for one and everything is fine….the bad news, is that due to the procedures, they're not sure if I'll ever be able to carry a baby to term. And now with one of my ovaries blown, I don't know if I'll ever be able to have children," her voice broke then, and she covered her face with her hands. "I know I've never even talked about kids before….but I never realized that I may want them until…until…there's this possibility that I can't. Anyway, it seems foolish to pursue any permanent relationship knowing this…I'm Catholic and would have probably married someone in the church, despite the fact that my faith hangs by sheer threads. But most Catholic men want families…that's what the church encourages. I can't guarantee any man I could …That's not the main reason I told Eddie not to come back to Boston, but it is one of them. He wants a family. I don't know if I could give him one…but I don't love him, either." The tears were coming in earnest then.

Woody tried to pull her into his arms, to comfort her, tell her everything would be fine, but she pushed him away. "Just please, don't. I don't want to hear that everything will be all right…that I'm young and there are lots of new medical procedures on the horizon, or that adoption is always an option. I have heard it all. Many times….Just please, go. Let me get a shower."

Woody swallowed hard and shut the door behind him. His heart broke for her as he heard her sob on the other side.