Chapter Two
The Ties that Bind
Jordan rolled out of her bed and stretched. It was early…four in the morning…but she had work to do. Grabbing her robe and stuffing her feet in a pair of ratty terrycloth slippers, she made her way out of her bedroom.
Her days always started early now. Even if she worked nights or the late afternoon shift at the morgue, her days started around four. It was hard getting used to the schedule at first. But now she was accustomed to it…mostly. There were some days she was so tired she could hardly put one foot in front of the other. She'd manage to get some rest then…she'd sneak off and catch a few hours of sleep and then come back.
But now she had to focus on what she had to do…and was eternally grateful for her medical background as she padded down the hall and pushed open the door to her father's bedroom. Max was asleep…thankfully. Jordan glanced at her father…and put her hand to his forehead. No fever. She was constantly worried about infection right now during his treatments. She gently checked his IVs and administered the appropriate medications through them, then sat down to wait for him to wake up.
Cancer. Max had cancer. The odyssey he had gone one when he left his daughter alone for two years was to find a cure. He had been told his disease was inoperable. And it was spreading. So he had taken off to Mexico to see if there truly was a cure out there.
There wasn't. And last year he had returned home, weak and sick, and nearly dead. Jordan had pushed the latest medical treatments on him, even though she knew then, as she did now, that it was probably too little too late.
She was going to lose him.
But not without a fight.
She had moved back home to be with her father and take care of him.…although she had not given up her apartment. When the world got too much for her….her job too overwhelming….caring for her father too exhausting….she would retreat to Pearle Street for a few hours. That apartment was still her solace…her get away. It renewed spirits because that was the only place she could really let her hair down and be herself without anyone criticizing anything she did. She had made it uniquely her own. It equipped her to leave and fight the battle once again to prolong Max's life.
And they had won a few battles at the beginning. The cancer had stopped spreading…he responded to treatment. While Jordan wasn't hopeful for a cure, she was expecting to add a year or two more to his life…she'd anticipated having him around a little longer.
That wasn't to be. The scans the oncologists did last month showed the growths had returned with a vengeance…killing off healthy cells as quickly as they could. It was spreading…rapidly. Hospice had been called in. It was just a matter of time.
Time Jordan didn't want to waste. She had taken a semi-sabbatical from work…coming in only a few hours each day to stay up-to-date on cases and mainly handle trace and routine autopsies. Nothing heavy-duty. No murders. Nothing suspicious. If anything got the least wonky, she willingly turned it over to Garret, Sydney, or Bug.
Her father was her top priority right now. She watched as his eyelids flickered open. "Good morning," she whispered softly. "How are you feeling, Dad?"
"Like I've been hit by a truck…but other than that, just fine," Max replied with an attempted grin. Only Jordan knew how much he was suffering …. Had suffered. She had been there every minute.
"What would you like for breakfast?"
"Just toast and an egg….some juice. No coffee, though. I don't think I could handle that."
"Will you be okay by yourself while I go cook it, or do you want me to wait for Jennie to come?" Jennie was the hospice nurse.
"I'll be fine. Go ahead. And make sure you fix you something to eat, too. I can't have you getting sick on me."
Jordan smiled and kissed her father's forehead before descending the stairs. Her father had always taken care of her. Now it was her turn to take care of him. Not a task she had looked forward to undertaking because it signaled Max's mortality.
But it was a job she undertook with great love. It would be these final acts of compassion on her part that would continue to bind and heal the ties of their relationship. She was all he had…and Jordan wanted to be there for her father…let him know however convoluted their past was, all was forgiven and it was time to move past it.
She got out the toaster and pans and got to work. She'd cook him breakfast, get dressed, and wait for Jennie to come in. Then she'd go to the morgue for half a day, come home, do laundry, and cook supper.
Not very exciting, but it's what she needed to do right now. It was what she wanted to do right now.
It was what she had to do right now.
Woody didn't make it to the morgue until after lunch. He retraced the familiar route to the sixth floor, making his way to Nigel's office. "Woodrow," he heard Nigel say.
"Nigel…have you got the reports ready?"
"I have the prelims. Dr. Macy is doing your autopsy."
"Is he done yet?"
"I think he just finished. He'll still have to do dictation, but he can at least tell you something."
Woody nodded and left Nigel's office, walking over to the chief ME's. He couldn't help but notice her office was dark and locked. Her name was on the board…so she was still working there…but for as long as he had known Jordan Cavanaugh, he had never heard of her taking a day off…or a vacation….So for her office to be dark and locked on a weekday in the middle of the afternoon meant either she was on forced leave…..
Or her hands were very full of something indeed.
