The Ragged Edge of Nowhere Chapter 17: El Cerrito Place, a crossing jordan fanfic

Chapter Seventeen

A/N – Not only do I not own Crossing Jordan, I also don't own El Cerrito Place as sung by Charlie Robison. Damn fine song. Damn fine singer.

He cursed himself all the way to the wharf and then back to his office that afternoon. He cursed himself and the actions that he initially took that brought all this about. If he had only gone and talked to her instead of filing for divorce. If only he had stopped in Phoenix and gotten a hotel room instead of beginning the trip back to Boston. If only…if only…. Then they would not be in this mess. Jordan…his wife…would not be in such a fragile emotional state.

He would have told her the truth tonight if his cell phone had not rung. Seeing her emotionally melt down in front of him hurt him more than any of the surgery, therapy, or grafts he had gone through. Those hurt simply his body.

Seeing her in such pain hurt his soul.

Every morning when he looked in the mirror, he saw more of himself. It had taken him a while to get used to his "new" face, but he was adjusting. More and more of the "old" man was showing through, despite the differences between the two faces. He was sure that was what Jordan was reacting to, despite the fact she wasn't cognitively aware of it. She was responding to Woody, not Charles and it was confusing the hell out of her. He could tell by the look in those whiskey-colored eyes.

And that was adding to the fragility of her emotional state. He needed to tell her the truth. He wanted to. He just wasn't sure how she would react. He needed to make sure she was comfortable with him as Charles first before he revealed he was Woody. Judging by her actions today, that may take a while. He groaned to himself. He wasn't sure if he could wait that long. Holding her this afternoon was long, slow torture. He wanted so badly to tell her and then just hold her the rest of the afternoon…answer all her questions…and love her when she had all the answers she wanted.

Since he couldn't do that just yet, he vowed to do the next best thing. He would look after her...take care of her, until he could reveal everything to her.

"Hey, wait … Jordan," he called out to her quickly retreating back.

"Charles…." She turned and greeted him. She had thought that things might be awkward between the two of them after her break down in front of him at her house. He had gone out of his way to ease the tension.

"Quitting time?"

"Yeah."

"Then let me walk you out to your car."

"Charles…it's broad daylight…nothing is going to happen to me."

"You never know. It would make me feel better. Please?"

"Since you said 'please', I guess it's okay," she said, rolling her eyes at him. She nearly chuckled at him. It had been a long time since someone cared enough about her to walk her out to her vehicle and make sure she was safe…but Charles was seemingly making up for that lost time. He had walked her out nearly every night for the past two weeks. Garret had even noticed and began ribbing Jordan about her "own personal body guard."

"Are you going home, Jordan Marie?" he asked. Charles was the only person she would allow to call her by her first and middle names. Anyone else she'd verbally abuse.

"No…actually, believe it or not, I have plans tonight."

Woody drew in a sharp breath, feeling the ground shift beneath his feet. She had every right…she thought she was a widow. She could logistically see other men now.

"My father owns a bar," she continued, "but he's asked me to cover for him tonight…it's his anniversary, so I'm headed down to the Pogue to play bar wench until about midnight."

He grinned. "That doesn't sound exciting…"

"Well…depending on the crowd, it can be. I'm praying for a quiet night. It's been a long week."

"I know what you mean. Mind if I come by?"

"No. Of course not. Do you know where it's at?"

He nodded. "I may see you around ten or so." He shut her door and watched her drive off. The Pogue. Drinks. Dancing. It would seem like old times, at least to him. He remembered the last time she had told him she had to tend the bar for her dad…when Max was on his honeymoon. Woody didn't even bother to show up any of the nights Jordan had worked late. He had either worked or stayed home…looking at the situation as just one more obstacle in their already turbulent marriage.

He should have been there every night, helped her close, and then danced with her. Held her. Tightly. Woody shook his head. He'd try to fix everything tonight – after he helped her close, he'd insist they dance. And then he would tell her…everything.

She saw him when he came through the doors of the bar, shortly after ten. She tried to deny to herself that she was glad to see him. She ignored the tiny voice in the back of her mind that kept warning her to be careful. He's a friend, co-worker, and nothing else. Nothing. How can I even think such thoughts when I've only been a widow two years?

Time marches on, said the practical side of Jordan. Woody wouldn't want you to be alone…She mentally shook her head. It was hard to imagine herself with anyone but Woody. He had been the center of her universe for so long. It was difficult to conceive of another man kissing her or touching her…she had tried…and her mind couldn't go there.

Until she met Charles. She couldn't refute the fact that she was attracted to this man who somehow seemed to know her. She couldn't rebuff his tenderness and compassion to her…she had other people's…after Woody had died. She didn't want their pity…just their understanding.

But Charles was different. There was no pity in his touch or his words. Just kindness and mercy – something she needed badly in her life.

"Hi," he said, greeting her. He purposely did not choose the bar stool he used to sit at regularly at the Pogue. "How's the evening?"

"Fairly slow to be a Friday night. No fights…just people trying to wind down after a hard week. What can I get you?"

"Guinness?"

Jordan set the beer in front of him. "So what have you been up to since I saw you last?"

"Typical Friday stuff. A little laundry, some grocery shopping…."

"You cook?"

"Cook and clean….even been known to iron."

"You'll make someone a wonderful wife one day," Jordan said, joking with him. But soon other bar patrons claimed her attention and she didn't have much time with Charles until nearly closing time, when she rang the bell. The patrons settled their bills and went out into the cold, dark Boston night.

"Can I stay and help you close?"

"Do you really want to? It's not much fun…."

"Yeah…just tell me what to do."

Jordan directed him on how to wipe down the tables and sweep while she settled the register and locked the front door. When it was all over, he handed her his apron and bar towel. "I was wondering….we didn't get a chance to talk much tonight….I was wondering if you would dance with me…just a couple of times before we have to leave?" He held out his hand.

Jordan caught her breath. The gesture was so familiar…Woody had done it countless times to her…told her not to say anything, just dance with him, and he would hold out his hand. She would put her much smaller hand in his and feel his strength as he would grip it and swing her into his arms. For a moment Charles' face blurred with the one of her husband's…then she snapped herself out of it.

"Sure…I'd love to."

He dropped the change into the jukebox and chose a new song…a bluesy-country mix Jordan hadn't heard before. It was Charlie Robison's El Cerrito Place…the melancholy chords soon echoed through the bar.

I've been hanging 'round this place

I've been looking through your space

I've been waiting for you

All the places you would go

All the people that you know

I've been looking for you

Woody pulled Jordan just a little closer in his arms. She didn't resist…

And all them pretty people

Up on El Cerrito place

They all got something in their pockets

All got something on their face

They rolled down to La Brea

Where it meets the boulevard

Singing hallelujah

While they dance over the stars

They all think they're going far

Me -- I've been looking for you baby

I've been looking for you baby

All night long

He spun her out and then pulled her back to him again. "What have you been looking for, Jordan?" he softly whispered in her ear. She looked up at him, a startled expression in her eyes.

Somebody said they might have seen you

Where the ocean meets the land

So I've been out here all night looking

For your footprints in the sand

Did you hear the ocean singing?

Baby, did you sing along?

As you danced over the water

To some old forgotten song

Were you even here at all?

Me -- I've been looking for you baby

I've been looking for you baby

All night long

"I'm not sure…what makes you ask? And what are you looking for Charles?" she replied in an equally low voice.

Somehow I wound up in the desert

Just after daylight

There's a Joshua tree growing

At that little place you always liked

These pioneer town people

Ain't got too much to say

And if they might have seen you

They ain't giving you away

And now it's been two days.

Me -- I've been looking for you baby

I've been looking for you baby

All night long

"I think I've spent a great deal of my time lately looking for you, Jordan Marie Cavanaugh Hoyt."

I think I'll go back to the city

Back to El Cerrito place

That's the last time that I saw

That pretty smile upon your face

I've been looking for you baby.

Jordan stood still in his arms as the song ended. Charles was a wonderful man. Warm. Caring. Strong. She felt as safe with him as she had….Woody.

Woody watched the emotions dance over his wife's face, finally noting the last one was pure turmoil….she was reacting to him as if he was still Woody, but thinking in her mind he was Charles. The look of sheer pain nearly brought him to his knees. Without a second thought, he gently cupped her face, tilted her head back, and brought his lips down on hers. He didn't hesitate, didn't think about doing anything else…this was what he had wanted to do since he first saw her when he arrived back in Boston.

For a moment, Jordan relaxed in his arms…feeling that familiar feeling wash over her…For a moment, time had been turned back…he was back with her…and it was like old times….his lips were on hers, soft and loving. A shiver went up her spine…she knew that this kiss would lead to…

Then it hit her.

This wasn't Woody.

This was Charles.

Abruptly, she pulled away from him and found herself on the other side of the bar, near the self-locking back door.

"Jordan?" Now was the time. He needed to tell her. He walked over to her, only to find her trembling. She held up a hand to stop him.

"No. I'm sorry Charles. I shouldn't have let you kiss me…I shouldn't have danced with you. It's wrong…all so wrong. On several levels. First, I renewed a promise I made to myself years ago after I came back from Boston – I won't date coworkers. I've done it twice and both times I ended up getting hurt. The first time, I dated a man named Nigel Townsend. We worked together at the morgue. I don't think I loved him, but it nearly brought a friendship down in flames. It took us years to rebuild that relationship.

"The second time I dated a coworker, I did fall in love…lost my heart completely to a man named Woodrow Wilson Hoyt. My husband. I still love him. I always will…what I felt for him you don't forget or get over easily. And if I had fought harder for our marriage, I would still have him with me."

"Jordan…" he began. She held up her hand again to stop him.

"And secondly, I know this may sound totally off-base to you, but you remind me of him…your eyes…your cologne….your touch. I don't know if I'm responding to you….or to my memories of Woody. And until I'm certain I'm not trying to substitute someone for him, I can't let myself fall in love with anyone."

And with that she turned on her heel and walked out the back door.