Chapter Three

Just You and Me….and Baby Made Three.

Jordan entered her house, shut the door behind her, leaned against it, and closed her eyes. God, she was tired. It had been a long day at work. A drowning. Three homicides. A hit and run involving a three year-old. Will's soccer game after work.

And seeing Woody again.

She felt like emotionally someone had pulled the plug on her world and allowed every drop of energy she had to drain out her toes. She cracked open one eye and surveyed her watch. Seven-thirty. And there was still laundry and supper to do. Groaning she pulled away from the door and dropped her jacket, pocketbook, and brief case on the rack in the entry way. She wearily pulled a Stouffer's frozen lasagna from the freezer and put it in the oven. Grabbing a bag of salad mix out of the refrigerator, she heard Will come through the back of the house. "Don't leave your muddy cleats on the porch," she called. "Remember what happened last time?"

She heard her son laugh. "Yeah, Mom. I remember." A neighbor's dog had dragged them off and chewed them up. Will received a lecture about "being responsible for you're own things," and had to buy the replacement pair with his own money. An expensive endeavor by a teenager's standards for his size thirteen feet.

Will came through the kitchen, muddy cleats thrown over his shoulder, hanging by the laces. He walked over to the sink where his mother was rinsing the lettuce and kissed her on the cheek. "So…do you think UniMass might be interested in me in a couple of years?"

"If you keep scoring goals like you did tonight, the University of Massachusetts will be one of many on the list who will be courting you," Jordan replied trying not to let the catch in her voice be heard.

But Will knew. And he was well aware of the fact that while his mother was very excited about his future – one she hoped he would share her love of medicine and science in – she also didn't like to talk about him growing up and leaving home. He side-stepped any other discussion and turned to leave the kitchen. "I'm gonna shower, and hit the books. I've got enough Algebra II homework to…." He left off the rest of the sentence as his ringing cell phone caught his attention. Jordan smiled at her son as he made his way up stairs, taking them two at a time, to his bedroom…talking to some girl named Mandy? That was a new one. She grimaced and returned to finishing the salad.

Her baby was growing up and she knew it. In a few short years, it would just be her and a Lean Cuisine for dinner. She dreaded the thought.

So did Will. In his honest, abrupt, not-so-subtle way, he had begun to encourage his mother to date. In his mind, Will knew it had just been him and his mom for fifteen years. But he was growing up and now she needed someone besides her son in her life.

She was resisting…he was insisting….threatening to fix her up with various fathers of his friends…divorced school teachers he had…If only her social life was that simple.

The reality was Jordan didn't want another man in her life. Part of her said she didn't need one. She had her job…which was forty-plus hours a week. She had her tennis, her running, and …of all things….her quilting. She had her life framed by enough people and events that she was seldom not involved with something and had enough friends that she never had to be alone if she didn't want to be.

But that wasn't the whole truth. The truth was she was afraid of another relationship. With the exception of Nigel, every close relationship she had gone through with a man had ended disastrously. Even after her father returned from his global wanderings, their relationship had never been the same. From that point on, Jordan always had second-guessed anything Max had told her. How much of it was the truth? And she never shook the feeling that one day she would wake up and he would be gone again out of her and Will's life.

Same thing with Garret. After Slokum's "Reign of Terror," she had always wondered if there were other skeletons in her friend's closet that would nearly cost her her career.

But she and Garret had worked through it. They remained friends. He was Will's godfather. And at least she never had to worry about him taking off to chase a dream, his version of the truth, or ghosts from his past.

And then there was Jason. Her wonderful, sweet, beloved Jason. She had met him at a party – a single-mingle sort of thing hosted by one of the downtown Boston bars – back when Woody was still in Boston, but not speaking to her. It seemed they had done nothing but argue since he had gotten out of the hospital from the sniper shooting. Jordan had told herself that she had finally endured enough of his dictating attitude and hurtful words. If he was moving on…so should she.

Enter Jason into her life. He was a great guy. They clicked. He never pushed her away. He respected what she did.

He was also a marine in Uncle Sam's troops and knew he'd be on his way back to Iraq soon. "If we can make it to December 2005 when they're supposed to ratify their Iraq constitution and we begin turning more of the control of their country over to their own armed forces, we'll be okay," Jason had told her. "Meanwhile….I'd like to leave Boston knowing my ring is on your finger and we have the same last name….and that the baby does, too," he had said, placing his hand on her still-flat abdomen.

Jordan had thought about it all of two seconds. In an uncharacteristic move of trust, she had said yes. Her gut had told her Jason was a safe man…a good man….a steady man…a man that loved her.

The type of man she needed after Woody.

Sheand Jason had slipped off to Vegas one weekend and when she returned…she was Mrs. Jordan C. Turner and her blue-eyed soldier was flying back to Baghdad.

Three months later she got the horrible visit from US Marine officials who told her that Jason was dead. Killed in the line of duty -- a hero, but now one more man who was gone out of her life forever. She made funeral arrangements, with full military honors.

Then scarcely five months later, William Maxwell Turner entered her life on a snowy evening right before Thanksgiving. Jordan had no time to really grieve the loss of Jason before Will made his entrance. Born just a little early, he spent the first two weeks of his life in a critical care nursery. He was more than five days old before Jordan even got to hold her son.

She'd never forget the day the nurse carefully laid Will in her arms, moving the myriad of tubes and wires out of the way. Jordan had softly spoken to her son and Will turned his head at the sound and opened his big blue eyes and gazed at his mother. Jordanlhad lost her heart all over again. Will had her wrapped around his little finger from that moment on. He still did. He always would. The oven timer buzzing brought Jordan out of her trip down memory lane. She mentally shook herself as she pulled the lasagna from the oven and set the table. "William…." She called up the stairs. "William Maxwell Turner….dinner's ready."

"Be right down, Mom." And a few minutes later her tall, hazel-eyed son took his seat at the kitchen table. Jordan smiled at him as they reached for each other's hands to hold while Will asked the blessing. William had her hair, but a combination of his mother's and his father's eyes. Blue with lots of gold-flecks.

"I'm never going to finish that Algebra II crap tonight," Will murmured after he had said Amen.

"Just do the best you can. I'm sure that will be enough."

"Not for old man Harris. He lives, breathes, and sleeps numbers."

Jordan grinned. Her son might complain, but he always came through in the end.

Just like his father had always done.