Chapter Nine
He got in the car and drove off into the cool Boston night. He wasn't lying to Jordan. He did have some place he needed to go. He went back to the precinct, back to his office and pulled up the website for the Massachusetts Police Departments. After a few brief clicks, he printed out the information he needed and turned off his computer and went home…back to a quiet apartment and an empty bed where he tossed and turned all night, thinking about her. She wasn't resting. She wasn't eating…he could tell. She looked horrible…and it was his fault. If he hadn't of pushed the issue with her that night in her office…she would have never been put through this. He rolled over from his stomach to his back and put his hands behind his head. He knew she was emotionally raw right now…hurt beyond words. Hurt beyond anything. But he had a plan. He just hoped he had the courage to follow through with it.
Jordan didn't fare much better at sleep that night than Woody did. She closed up the bar, went home, took a shower, sat on the couch and gazed out over the Boston skyline. She could have had a glass of wine now to help her sleep. Alcohol was no longer forbidden. But she hadn't restocked her kitchen. She was half afraid that if she started drinking, she may crawl into a bottle and not come back out for a while. She pushed her hair off her shoulders. Woody had surprised her tonight by coming by the Pogue. She hadn't expected him. She hadn't seen him…on purpose, she gently chided herself. She hadn't been sure that if on some level he didn't blame her for the loss of their child. But he told her tonight that he didn't. And he had been honest. She read it in his eyes.
Where that bit of truth put them, she didn't know. They were no long prospective parents together. They were no longer lovers. She wouldn't even categorize them as friends right now. She shivered at that thought. A year ago she would have said Woody was one of her best friends. He had tried to move the relationship along into something more…but her fears pushed that aside…that she wasn't good enough for him…that he deserved something better. She got up from the couch and stretched, deciding to head for bed and at least put forth the effort to try and get some sleep. But it was a long night for Jordan. Her eyelids didn't close until the sun had begun to rise over the city.
She went back to work on Monday. So did he. They both worked at solving Boston's homicides, although they seldom worked together any longer. Both still found it too painful. She would catch glimpses of him across the police station…he would see her at the morgue. Their eyes would meet and then drop. There had been too much between them before and now there was too much better left unsaid.
So they changed the strange mating/dating dance they had done for years. Now it was called avoidance. If they didn't see each other, they didn't hurt. And if they didn't hurt, they could at least pretend to go on with their lives as if nothing had happened.
Until Santana's wedding. Yep. The petite, brunette homicide detective was getting married. Woody and Jordan were invited to the wedding. Woody went because heworked closely with Santana. Jordan went because the woman was a good friend of hers. Woody figured Jordan would be there. He saw her in the chapel at St. Inez, sitting three pews in front of him. She looked lovely, in a simple pink dress with her hair piled on top of her head. When she turned to talk to Nigel beside of her, he could see that she still looked tired….the dark circles ringed her eyes. He sighed. She still wasn't getting any closer to the Jordan he knew before the miscarriage. And he'd bet his piece of wedding cake she wasn't eating right, either.
Delicate. Jordan Cavanaugh looked delicate. Something he never thought he'd see. A part of him wanted to carry her away somewhere and care for her until she could get her footing back. But as the days were creeping closer to their daughter's actual due date, it seemed she got more and more…well, breakable.
That thought nearly broke Woody.
So he made up his mind. And then he made a few phone calls.
Today was a day from hell, Jordan thought as she let herself in her apartment and kicked off her shoes. Six autopsies, four bodies in trace, and the mounds of paperwork that accompanied both….But at least today was Friday and she could rest up during the weekend. After working tonight at the Pogue. She absent-mindedly flipped through her mail and hit the play button on her answering machine. Two hang ups. A sales call. Then Woody's voice came through loud and clear. "Hi…Jo. It's Woody. Didn't want to bother you at work. I need to see you…talk to you. I was wondering if it would be okay if I came by your apartment before you went to the bar tonight. I promise it won't take long…if it's not okay, give me a call on my cell phone? I'm kind of mobile right now." His voice sounded strained and breathless….She replayed the message and shrugged her shoulders. She hadn't seen him often after the miscarriage. She had talked to him even less. Jordan walked into her bedroom and changed clothes, wondering what he could possible have to say to her now, with everything being so awkward between them…
She saw him at Santana's wedding. He looked thinner, and the lines on his face made him look haggard. They both were still getting over the miscarriage. He hadn't reached out to her since then. She couldn't help but wonder if that was what he was thinking about doing tonight…seeing if they could at least be friends again and then maybe, just maybe, move the relationship along to a little more.
She missed him. She really did. She missed her best friend…his corny jokes, dry sense of humor….his fast mind.
If possible, she missed her lover more. She missed being held by him…feeling safe…she missed his kisses and his touch. It was getting harder and harder to tell which left her more empty … the loss of the baby or the loss of Woody.
But he would be over in a little bit to talk to her….Maybe…just maybe he was trying to get things back on track.