Chapter Eight
"Go? Go where?" Jordan asked, following him to his bedroom.
"New York," he said, pulling a suitcase from his closet and throwing some clothes in it.
"Why? What's wrong?" she asked, gently taking the items he was haphazardly packing and neatly refolding them. She was buying time. She knew that Woody and his brother weren't on the best of terms. As a matter of fact, she was aware that they hadn't spoken in a while … she wondered what Cal had gotten himself into now that would be so awful that Woody would stop everything and go to his brother.
"He's sick…they don't know what's wrong….he's in the hospital. That was the doctor…they don't know…" his words came out in a terrified rush. Jordan grabbed his hands.
"Calm down…calm down, at least a little….you're not going to do him or yourself any good like this….Let me help you…."
"Jordan, I don't know what to do…he's the only family I have left…What will I do if he…"
"He's not," Jordan cut in sharply. "You can't think that way right now, for you or for him. If he's in New York, he has access to some of the best medical help available. Just remember that." She finished packing his clothes, leaving him to get up the few toiletries and other things he needed, as she went back into his living room and got on her phone, first calling the airlines, and then Woody's chief, then finally, Garret. She asked for two weeks vacation, as she explained the situation. Garret said take the time and whatever else needed. And keep him posted.
"Okay, Woody. I've got plane tickets waiting at Logan for the midnight flight into New York City. Do you want to follow me back to my apartment and leave your car there, or do you want me to come back and pick you up?"
Woody shook his head in confusion. He wasn't following her train of thought. "What?" he asked, still trying to process what all had happened in such a short amount of time.
"Do you want to drive to the airport or do you want me to?"
"I can drive myself to Logan, you don't have to, Jordan."
"That's not what I meant. I'm going, too. So…do you want me to drive or do you want to?"
"You're going?"
"I'm not going to let you go through this by yourself. I've already called your chief and told him what happened. Then I called Garret and got a couple of weeks off. You don't need to be alone."
The relief that framed his face told Jordan that she had made the right decision. "Thanks," he said, his eyes saying more than any words could convey.
"No problem."
The hiss and pull of the ventilator was the only thing that broke the silence of the small hospital room. Jordan watched Cal's chest rise and fall, echoing the readouts coming from a multitude of monitors. She sat waiting for his eyes to flicker open, or his hand to squeeze hers….anything that would allow Woody and her to know that Cal was still with them.
Woody was still trying to get a straight answer from the doctors…he was out in the hall with them now. Jordan sighed and struggled to find a comfortable position in her chair. She was exhausted and so was Woody. They had gotten no rest on the short flight from Boston to New York, and then had gone immediately to the hospital. And God knows no one rests in hospital. She found herself dozing off, only to be woken by Woody's hand gently shaking her. "Can I talk with you a minute? In the hall?" he asked. She followed him out of the room and down the hall a ways. "It's leukemia," he said, "The same thing that killed Mom…now Cal's got it."
Jordan struggled for an answer. Leukemia could be deadly, as was in the case with Woody's mom. But there were procedures that could be done…to halt the cancer or at least slow it down. However, the look on Woody's face told her that he hadn't processed anything other than the fact that his brother had cancer and could die. She needed to get him to talk. "What did the doctor say, Woody?"
"Cal's known he's been sick for a while. He's tried to hold out, try other things, but the doctor said that he needs more aggressive treatment."
"Bone marrow transplant?"
Woody nodded. "Yeah."
"Maybe they can find someone registered on the transplant list that will match…"
"They're trying that, but you and I both know that the best chance is with family members, first. They're testing me tomorrow. If I match, they'll harvest it in three days…after they've given Cal enough radiation to kill off the bad cells in his body," Woody's voice gave an uncharacteristic crack. "Why didn't he call me? Tell me? I would have been glad to be tested before now to see if I matched…"
Jordan gently looped her arms around his waist. "Maybe he didn't want to bother you….maybe he thought that since none of you all matched up for your mom, it would be the same for him…maybe…"
"Maybe he thought I wouldn't do it," Woody broke in. "Maybe he thought I was still so upset with him that I would refuse to be tested."
"I don't think he would have thought that," Jordan began.
"You don't know me and my brother…all the stuff that's happened between us…"
Jordan looked him in the eyes. "No, I don't. But the main thing is that you're here right now and that you're going to do it…be tested and if you match, then you're going to have your marrow harvested. So don't worry about the past. Deal with the now. You're here and you're trying to help. You two can settle your differences after Cal's better."
Woody sighed. "You're right. I know."
She snorted. "Of course I'm right. And I'm also right about something else. You need to go to the motel and rest. If you match and they need to harvest, then you've got to be in your best shape. Go and get some sleep. I'll stay here with Cal. I'll call you if anything changes. Okay?"
Woody shook his head. "I won't be able to rest with you here and not knowing how he's doing."
"Do you want the transplant to be successful? Then go take care of yourself…now." She turned and pushed him toward the exit.
"You'll call me if anything changes?"
"Absolutely."
