Chapter Eight

Cal stayed only a week and then decided to fly back home. "I would like to have some vacation time left to come back and see my niece or nephew when it's born," he told Jordan, the morning before he flew out. He was sitting on the top of her desk, looking over at her. She was lying on the couch, desperately trying to find a comfortable position for her back. If her second trimester had been hard, the third was going to be a bitch, she was thinking.

"I'll let you know the minute I go into labor," she laughed.

"Yeah, me and who else? I have a feeling you've got a list as long as your arm."

"That is true…maybe I'll just have one big conference call…"

Cal chuckled and got up off her desk. Walking over to her, he helped her up and gave her one last hug. "Take care of yourself, Jo. And junior…or junior-ess. And do me one favor?"

"What?"

"Don't give up on my brother. He'll come around…at least in someway. He's just got to realize, he's not dad."

Jordan nodded. "I know…I know he's not. And I'm not giving up." She kissed Cal's cheek and waved him out of her office. "Have a good flight…and be careful."

He turned around and winked at her. "I'll be more careful than you and Woody were…"

Woody drove Cal to the airport in silence. "You going to be okay, Wood?" Cal finally asked, glancing over at his brother.

"Yeah. I will be. How….how…was Jordan this morning?"

"She's doing okay….her back is bothering her now. She can't get comfortable. She's getting ready to go into her last trimester, so she's going to be uncomfortable for most of the time."

Woody nodded. "Yeah. Garret's pulling her off rotation and double shifts this week. She'll work strictly nine to five. Next month, she'll come out of field work and stay in the office."

"So….?" Cal asked.

"So…..what?" asked Woody right back.

"So…what are you going to do? Make an honest woman of her or watch from the sidelines?"

"Calvin…it's really none of your business."

"Yes it is. You're my brother and Jordan is the mother of my nephew…or niece."

"She still doesn't know what she's….we're having?"

"Said the doctor knows, but she wants to be surprised."

Woody sighed. That sounded like Jordan. If he was involved, he would know and have the nursery ready by now. Nursery? Oh, God. Where was Jordan going to put the baby? Was she keeping her Pearle Street apartment or moving into Max's, or what?

They had arrived at Logan. Woody pulled his car up and helped Cal unload the few bags he had. Cal hugged him before he left to get on the plane. "Take care of yourself, Woody. And Jordan. And the baby."

"I will…have a good flight."

"And Woody?"

"Yeah?"

"You'll be a great Dad. You're nothing at all like ours….you don't have any of his anger or behavior. You're too much like Mom …and you know how loving she was. Can I give you just a bit of advice from your baby brother?

"Sure…"

"Forgive Dad. Forgive yourself. Then go home to Jordan and your child." And with that, Cal disappeared into the terminal, leaving Woody on the sidewalk, contemplating his brother's sudden wisdom.

It took him two days to get up his courage to go to her apartment. She was working regular office hours, so he knew she was home this Friday night. Besides, her El Camino was in her parking slot. That was something else he was worried about. What was she going to drive when the baby came? Not that hunk of junk. Besides, it didn't even have a back seat….and she had to put a car seat in the back seat. That was the law. Woody did know that.

Nervously, he knocked on her door. "Just a minute," he heard her voice say from the other side. He heard her stepping over things to get to the door.

"Oh, hi…." She said softly. He was the last person she expected to see. "Come in. You'll have to excuse the mess. I'm trying to do a little rearranging and painting." She stepped aside so he could come in. The last time he was here was that night…when she invited him up for coffee….when…when…he mentally shook his head. That would definitely not be happening tonight…not with her seven months pregnant…and probably not ever again.

"So what are you doing?" he asked, surveying her apartment curiously.

"Nigel moved my bed over and to the side. I'm putting the crib against the other wall. I'm trying to lighten it up a little…some primary colors… bunnies, that sort of thing." He stepped in closer to see what she was doing.

"You know, you really don't need to be painting…let me help you."

"No, Woody…that's okay. I can do it."

"But you don't need to be," he said, deliberately taking the paintbrush out of her hand and pushing her toward the couch.

"No, really….I can do it…"

"You're doing enough right now," he said, eyeing her tummy…the baby was kicking again and he could see it through the t-shirt she was wearing. "Sit on the bed and give me orders. You're good at giving orders, if I remember correctly."

She grinned and plopped down on her bed. For the next several hours, they worked together…making a place for their child. When he had finished, she got up and walked to the refrigerator and got him a beer. He gave her a look.

"No…I'm not drinking. Not a drop. Not since I found out I was pregnant. But I do keep them here for Nigel or Garret when they drop by to help me move stuff or bring stuff in from my truck."

"That reminds me….what are you going to do about that truck?"

"I'm working on a trade in. I really don't want anything with payments….so I'm finagling with the salesmen right now…"

"Want me to help?"

"I think I've got it covered."

Woody nodded, and went to the sink to clean up before he left. Turning to face her as he dried his hands, he said, "I'm sorry Jordan. I'm sorry I haven't been around for you during most of this….but you have to understand…I'll do what I can. And you'll never have to ask for child support, because you'll have it. But I can't be a father…for reasons I can't get into right now, I just can't…"

"I know, Woody."

He looked at her like she had lost her mind. But she continued, walking up to him and gently putting her hand on his chest. "I know…Cal told me."

Woody swallowed hard. "He told you everything?"

"Yes. And I understand. I really do. But for what it's worth, I don't believe for a second you're anything like your father. You're a good man, Woodrow Hoyt. A good one. I can't for a moment conceive that you would hurt a child. I've seen how worked up you get over child abuse cases we've dealt with. I don't know what makes you believe…."

"But I'm so afraid, Jo…so scared that one day I might lose my temper with a baby and…"

She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "You wouldn't. I know you. You wouldn't. I'm not asking for anything from you…other than I would like you to be an active parent in our child's life…"

"I don't know…."

"Just think about it."

Woody nodded, slipped on his jacket, and eased out into the cool Spring night.