Chapter Eight
Out of the Dark
Two weeks later, Max was passed away.
Jordan had known it was imminent. She was a doctor. She could read the signs. But she was also his daughter…and she desperately wanted to ignore them, thinking that if they were ignored, maybe…just maybe they would go away and her father wouldn't leave her.
Woody knew what was happening. Max had his hospice nurse, Jennie, call him at the precinct. Max wanted Woody in place when the time came. Woody began showing up at the Cavanaugh residence frequently…trying to get a read on things. The day before Max died, he simply moved in and didn't leave.
As a result, he was there when it happened….when Max crossed the bar. It happened quietly and with the dignity the man had wanted. Jordan was sitting on the bed by his side…what ever they had needed to say to each other had long been said. She was simply holding his hand and telling him she loved him. Woody stood behind her. Max had opened his eyes one last time to tell Jordan good-bye and to give Woody a knowing glance. Woody had merely nodded and put one hand on Jordan's shoulder. Max smiled…and went home.
Jordan cried and stayed with her father for a while…before the mortuary people came to retrieve the body. At that point, she turned. Woody held his arms open and she went into them. And stayed there for a long time.
The next days passed in a blur. Max had made most of his own arrangements. There was blessedly little left for Jordan to do, other than plan his wake. It would be a simple affair, held at the Pogue. Despite the fact the bar had been sold, the new owner was a close friend who insisted on having it there.
Woody stayed near by Jordan at this time, remembering his promise to Max. But even if those promises hadn't been made, he would still have been there…because he wanted to be. Jordan would wonder later just how he knew when she needed to sit down…get something to drink…go outside for some air…or just needed to be held. She didn't question it at the time, but later it became apparent his actions were the result of someone that had been in the same situation and knew just what to do to make her as comfortable as possible.
Which was what he was working on now. After four days of exhausting herself, seeing to the details of the visitation, funeral, and wake, Jordan was tired. She had eaten little and slept even less. Woody noticed the tell-tale sign of her hand going to her temple. A migraine, he'd bet any money. Finally, after the last person had left Max's house, he took her hand. "Let's get out of here…take you somewhere that you can get some rest."
She sighed. "That would be nice. I was thinking about going back to my apartment tonight….I don't think I could handle another night here…with it being so quiet."
Woody thought for a second, and then carefully couched his next words. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea…but he did want her to get some rest. "I'm not so sure that would be the best idea, Jo."
"Why?"
"If people want to see you…and you're not here, the next place they'll try is your apartment. You could end up still not getting any rest. Why don't you come back to my place tonight to sleep? You can relax…I can take care of you…and your headache will go away."
"I don't know, Woody…that's an awful lot of trouble…"
"It's no trouble, Jordan."
She had finally agreed. "I just feel so numb, Woody," she had told him as he helped her into the car. "I don't know what to do next…what's expected of me…"
"That's normal. The best advice I can give you is don't make any major decisions for the next several months. You need to give yourself time to begin to heal from this…"
"Does that include us?" she had asked in a small voice, looking down at the floorboard of his car.
He reached across the car seat then and gently lifted her eyes to meet his. "Yes. That does include us. But I'll be here…I'm not going anywhere…and you won't be alone."
They had gone back to his apartment, where she had showered and changed into a pair of his old sweat pants and a t-shirt. For Woody, there was something irresistibly feminine about Jordan in his clothes. They seemed to nearly swallow her whole…she was so tiny. It emphasized the fragility of her right now… "God, I never knew you were this big," she had joked.
"No…you're just too small. Now come here and eat some supper."
He had gotten her to eat a little and he put her in his bed. Then he sat down to think. He knew what he had promised Max…and he would be here for Jordan … take care of her. And in order for him to do that, he needed to begin to move her past this…out of this dark place she had been for over a year dealing with Max's sickness and death…and into the light.
Just how was the question.
Woody just watched her for a while…was there when she needed him…and quite often when she wasn't aware that she did. Her life slowly began to get back to normal. She was working full-time again – regular hours. It was keeping her busy and keeping her from dwelling too much on what had happened to her.
They talked. She had decided to rent out Max's house. "It's really too big for just me… and I would never have time for the yard. Besides, it was sort of built with families in mind…and I don't have one….and…don't know when or if I ever will…and…" her voice had trailed off then.
Which had brought them in a round about way back to them. If there was a "them." They were still sort of tip-toeing around the issue months after Max had died. The same awkwardness they felt when Woody returned from the 22nd was back. The elephant in the room. Would they move beyond friendship, or would they remain as they were?
He saw it in her eyes sometimes when they were alone…just talking. The question hung there between them…and it needed to be answered. They had not parted on good terms when he left to go to the 22nd. And she needed to know that what he was going to do was not out of pity. It was not out of a promise he made to Max.
It was out of love.
