Chapter Three
Please Come to Boston for the Springtime
Jordan pushed her hair back as she sat down at her desk in the classroom and shuffled through the last stack of finals she had to get graded before leaving for summer break. Thankfully, she didn't have to teach this summer, but only had to work part time at the New York medical examiner's office. She finally waded through the last paper and shoved them in her briefcase, getting up and making her way back to her office. She'd hand the finals off to her assistant to enter the grades in the computer and go home. She had planned a quiet summer for herself…some cleaning, take in a few Broadway shows, and spend a couple of weeks at her house at Cape Cod…the small vacation home her grandmother had left Jordan when the older woman passed away.
She was looking forward to seeing the Massachusetts coast again…far enough away from Boston that Woody wouldn't realize she was back in the state, but near enough Garret, Nigel, Bug, Lily, and Sydney that she could get together with her friends. She took the elevator to the third floor of the New York medical examiners building and handed Carol, her assistant, the tests. "Another semester over….thank God. I've got them graded, can you enter the grades in the computer for me, and we'll officially celebrate the beginning of summer?" Jordan grinned at the younger woman.
"Sure thing, Dr. Hoyt," Carol replied, returning her grin. "Here's your messages…and you have a visitor. A detective from Massachusetts. He's in your office now."
Jordan felt her heart leap to her throat. Telling herself to calm down…it could be anyone from Seely to Winslow to Cruz. They had had no contact since she walked out on him three years ago…why should he start now? She quickly walked down the hall and peered through her office door.
The width of his shoulders still took her breath away. It was Woody. Gathering all her courage, she opened the door. Hearing the noise, he awkwardly turned to her. "Hi," he greeted her.
He still was the same…same melt-your-knees blue eyes…same heart-stopping cologne…Still tall, still handsome…..and still your husband as far as you know, her conscious reminded her sharply. The only things that had changed were a few more worry lines on his forehead – no doubt from too many hard cases and too many long hours. "Hi yourself," she replied, coming in and shutting the door behind her. If he had something to say to her, she didn't want the rest of the morgue hearing her business. "What brings you to New York?"
Woody silenced a grunt of frustration. Trust Jordan to get right down to business without the pleasantries. But in a way, that was good. It would make his job easier if they could treat this as a business transaction and nothing personal. "I need to talk to you…can we sit down and discuss a couple of issues?"
There was no way Jordan was going to let him tower over her…sitting or standing. "I'll stand if you don't mind. I've been sitting at a desk grading papers for the last two hours."
Woody nodded and propped himself on the side of her desk. "Nice morgue -- here as morgues go…" he noted.
"It is…it's a little more sophisticated than the Massachusetts' ones…we have more techno toys. Nigel would love it."
Woody nodded. "Do you miss Boston at all, Jordan?"
"The city or the people?"
"Both."
Jordan sighed and took off her jacket. "I miss the BoSox. I think I'm the only person in New York who doesn't root for the Yankees…which doesn't make me very popular."
Woody chuckled. He could imagine Jordan being the only person at a New York sports bar rooting for a team from Boston playing the Yankees.
"And I miss the people…Garret, Nigel, Bug….Lily…they were my family for years. Of course I miss them."
"Do you miss them enough to come back home?"
Jordan swallowed her startled reaction. She had assumed he had come here to discuss a divorce, if he didn't already have one. "Come home?" she questioned.
"Yeah…come back to Boston." Noting the confused look on her face, he took advantage of the situation and rushed ahead before she could have time to speak or think. "Come back, Jordan…please…I need you at home…as a favor to me."
Jordan narrowed her eyes. "A favor to you?"
Woody nodded. "I'm up for police chief."
Her eyes widened. "Congratulations Woody. If anyone deserves it, you do. You've put in the hours…clocked the experience. And it's a job you've always wanted. But I can't believe Gains is really retiring…and what has this got to do with me doing you a favor?"
Woody looked down at her desk and began toying with her pencil holder. "You know how Gains is, Jordan…a traditional, old-fashioned, Irish family man who believes that before a man can control a police department, he needs a family…at least a wife….to back him up and support him."
Her eyes widened more. "I can't believe…you're not asking me to…"
He got up from where he was sitting on the side of her desk and walked over to her, putting his hands on her arms. "Yeah, I am. I'm asking you to come back to Boston as my wife…until a decision is made about the police chief."
"You're joking, right?"
"No…I'm very serious. It would be under certain conditions of course."
She moved away from him. "And what conditions would that be?"
"It would be in name only…You or I one could take the guest room…we'd just have to function in every other way like a married couple. Just for a month or two….just until Gains and the committee make a decision."
"Woody…I have work here this summer…."
"It's only part time…at least that's what your assistant told me."
Jordan made a mental note to talk with Carol about divulging personal information. "Yeah, but it retains my job and income until I return to teaching in the fall."
"Surely you could work something out…and work back at the Massachusetts morgue again for a while…or not work at all…"
"Woody, I don't know. This all seems pretty deceptive…and I've had enough lies and falsehood propagated on me in the past that I don't want to be part of one…"
"Then do it because you owe me."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You owe me. You should have known when you left me three years ago that you put my career in jeopardy…that it could affect the one position I had wanted since I started out as a detective."
"That's not right…and it's not fair."
"And it's the only way you'll get a divorce from me."
"What?"
"You heard me. Come back…pretend to be my wife again for two or three months…and I'll give you a quickie, no-fault divorce with a settlement large enough to cover what income you don't make this summer from not working at the morgue here part time."
His words made her blood run cold. Divorce. Even though she had known it was an option, she had somehow figured that it was so far out in left field that Woody would never catch it. Not them. Not divorced.
Not when she still loved him.
She had hoped the time apart would allow him time to slow down and maybe think about them, their marriage…Obviously it didn't. He had just worked more, racking up more promotions to the point where his ultimate goal…chief of police…was at his finger tips. Would she be the one to keep him from obtaining it? Would she be the only obstacle in his path to keep him from becoming Boston's next chief of police?
Taking a deep breath, she said, "Let me think about it. I'll let you know tomorrow."
Pretend to be my wife again for two or three months…two or three months…and I'll give you a quickie, no-fault divorce with a settlement large enough to cover what income you don't make this summer from not working at the morgue here part time…"
"Do it because you owe me…"
Woody's words had rang in her mind the rest of the afternoon and all evening, causing sleep to elude her as she considered her options. Giving up on any rest for the night, she finally got out of bed, going over to a window and staring sightlessly out at the city.
Jordan had known when she left Woody that his world would be set on its head in many forms…she was no longer there to pick up the dry cleaning, make dinner, be his "arm trophy" at police functions…She knew it was a bad reflection on him in many ways…that he couldn't balance a home life and a work life…or that possibly he had bored his wife to tears.
She had been many things in their marriage, but bored wasn't one of them. Frustrated was the one that came to mind the most…frustrated at their lack of time together…frustrated that he wouldn't spend more time with her…but after his first big promotion at work, it just seemed potato chips to Woody…he couldn't stop with just one. There was another and another in quick succession to the point where he was single mindedly pursuing his career, taking for granted that she would always be there, applauding him on in the background…being content with that.
Jordan loved him then. She did now. She just wasn't woman enough to share her husband with a mistress that she couldn't possibly compete with – the Boston PD.
So, she had admitted defeat…and moved to New York.
However, Woody had given her a chance to try again…as misguided as his offer was. She could return to Boston and give their marriage one more shot, even if it was under the guise of "owing" him a favor….or she could remain in New York and always wonder what could have happened. She could put her heart and soul into letting him know how she really felt for three months…or never being able to look herself in the mirror again, knowing she never really gave it one last try.
Jordan knew her options. There really was no decision to make.
She was going back to Boston.
