Chapter Four
Regret and Reasons
And so the weeks clicked by. Jordan marked off each day on the calendar in her pocketbook. The first two weeks were unremarkable…almost the same as their life was before she had fled to New York. She worked. Woody worked. They came home at different times, occasionally went out as a couple, and spent their nights in separate bedrooms in separate beds.
Nothing changed. And Jordan was frustrated because any headway she was trying to make into re-establishing a relationship with Woody…letting him know how she felt…was running headfirst into a dead end wall. Woody was better than his word. He expected nothing…nothing more from her than just the occasional pubic appearance as his wife.
It was definitely like old times.
Until Woody called her at the morgue one day. "Are you busy Saturday night?' he asked.
"Gee…let me check my hectic social schedule," she deadpanned into the phone.
"Jordan…I'm serious."
"And Woody, I'm kidding. Lighten up. What's the matter with you…they take your sense of humor with one of your promotions?"
There was a long silence following her last quip. Then she heard him sigh and respond with a note in his voice she hadn't heard in a long time…was that regret she heard when he said, "Sorry….it's just been a long time since we've joked with each other."?
"My bad," she nearly whispered. Then clearing her throat, "I'm free. What do you need me to do?"
"Chief Gains would like you and I to have dinner with him and his wife at the Grange Country Club Saturday night at seven."
"Sure…I'll need to get a new dress…I don't think I brought anything that fancy." In reality, she no longer owned anything that nice. She had given her good dresses to Goodwill after she arrived in New York, assuming she'd never use them again.
"Fine…I'll walk my credit card over at lunch. Get whatever you need."
"Nope. I've got it, Farm Boy."
He took a sharp breath. Farm Boy. It had been years since she called him that.
Woody nervously waited for Jordan in their living room Saturday evening. He told her that they needed to leave by six-thirty. She said she'd be down. He eyed his wristwatch again. It was only six-fifteen. She was taking her time. He anxiously pulled at his collar and readjusted his tie in the mirror.
Having Jordan back was a little like living in a time warp. He had forgotten how the house smelled in the morning with her home…her bath soap…her perfume…The first time he had walked into the laundry room after she returned and found her delicate, feminine things drying there, he did a double take. She still wore scraps of lace under her clothes. He had swallowed hard and backed out. She was definitely back in his house, even if she wasn't in his bed.
She was doing a wonderful job pretending to his be wife…no slip-ups. She had convinced the men he worked with and the hiring committee that they were working through their differences. It was now becoming natural to feel her small hand slip into his when they were in public. It was now his automatic reaction to close his larger hand around it protectively….nearly possessively. She would seldom leave his side…his arm would find is way around her waist. He hadn't forgotten how slender she was…but he had nearly forgotten how it felt to have her in his arms. Nearly.
When she had run away to New York, he had felt deserted. Totally alone. She had begged and pleaded for more time with him.
And it wasn't that he didn't want to respond to that…and to say he didn't know how would by lying…Maybe it was that he just didn't feel like he could. After the miscarriage, he just didn't feel like he was what she needed as a husband – like he had failed her in some indefinable way.
A baby. The pregnancy was a surprise…but Woody had welcomed it. He had wanted a family of his own for as long as he could remember. He always assumed when he was with Annie, he would father a houseful. He knew with Jordan, it would be different…she was older, and more career oriented. One child, maybe two, would probably be it. But that had been fine with him. His first promotion came shortly before she had found out she was pregnant.
Then that awful morning came soon after when he had woken up to bloody sheets and his wife doubled over in cramps.
Something in him had shifted from that point on. While he still loved his wife, the hollow look in her eyes for months after that painfully reminded him that if she got pregnant again, this could happen a second time. He didn't think he could bear it. He couldn't do that to Jordan again…she had already lost too much in her lifetime. And no form of birth control was fool proof.
So he began to work more hours….keeping her at bay…so he wouldn't have to try to look her in the eyes and make excuses for why he was too tired to make love to his wife. Then a second promotion came. If he couldn't do anything else, he could make sure she was well-taken care of monetarily, even if he couldn't make sure everything else in her life was perfect.
And he still could do this. He glanced down at his watch again. Six twenty-five. A slight noise behind him made him turn. Jordan descended the stairs in a red dress…It had a demure neckline in the front, but was cut low in the back…it fell straight down her slim form and was slit up one side. Her hair was piled on top of head with wisps coming down around her ears and playing on the back of her neck. Woody swallowed hard. She was in a word….gorgeous.
"Do I look all right?" she asked, slowly turning around in front of him.
His mouth was still as dry as that California desert from so long ago. He peeled his tongue off the roof of his mouth. "You look wonderful."
"Thanks." She picked up her purse and headed for the door, leaving him to follow in a wake of sensuous thoughts and her perfume.
