Chapter Fifteen

Lean On Me

Time has a way of evening things out and cooling tempers off. As the weeks passed and Woody became more familiar with the rhythm and rhyme of the Turner household, he was able to better function as Will's father and Jordan's….friend?

To be honest, he really wasn't sure what he was to Jordan.

When they worked together as detective and ME, she was professional beyond reproach. When they were together as parents, she polite, civil…nice. And as more time went by, he could slowly feel the ice beginning to melt around the edges of their peculiar relationship.

He made no further mention of marriage, imagining that this may be as far as she was ever going to be willing to take this relationship. He had hurt her in the past…badly. He never realized just how much badly until their conversation over lunch. Jordan had no desire to be placed in a position to revisit old hurts. Woody didn't blame her.

Because neither did he.

But as the days clicked off, both of them found themselves in an old, familiar routine of unspoken dependency. Woody depended on Jordan to clue him in about Will, as well as cases they worked together on. And Jordan, whether she would admit it or not, came to rely on Woody to be there…to pick up Will from spring soccer practice when she had to work late or make sure he had dinner if she wasn't home.

A symbiotic relationship at best…as both of them were guarding their hearts closely. But a relationship of sorts, nevertheless. And it worked. They were both content with how things were going…at least in the beginning.

Woody, being Woody and the type of person he was at the core, knew what he felt for Jordan had never really died…it had gone underground…hid out….went into remission, but nearly the minute he had seen her after returning to Boston, it had resurfaced. Love, true love anyway, he mused to himself, must be like that.

However, Jordan seemed oblivious to his feeling….either by force of old habits, or the sheer desire to remain safely in denial. Risking her heart wasn't worth the possible pain he may cause her again.

So Woody let the weeks go by…hoping that time and circumstance would be his friends this go 'round. That maybe…given enough of both, something would happen to allow them to both face their true feelings.

Spring was reluctantly coming to Boston. And winter seemed just as unwilling to leave. Besides her dealings with Woody, if Jordan had to look back at that year and remember anything it was just how ill everyone seemed to stay. Will…the morgue staff…the flu lingered and caused more fatalities than normal.

Now she had a cold. A bad one. She took over-the-counter remedies…and tried to stay in as much as possible. She'd get better and then get worse. Above all she tried to hide it from Will, who had an endearing ability to worry about her constantly if she was sick.

And she had been darned successful. So far. Until one Saturday afternoon when Woody was bringing Will home from soccer practice. She had just slid a pizza out the oven for lunch for the three of them, as she heard them come in the back door. "Take your cleats and things upstairs," she called to Will.

"Okay…smells good, Mom. What's for lunch?"

"Pizza..."

"Good. Got root beer?"

"Six pack of IBC…"

"Cool…."

Jordan heard her son's voice drift upstairs as he headed for his room. Woody lingered in the kitchen for just a minute. "How was practice?" she asked, hoping to keep the conversation light….and his visit as brief as possible. She wasn't feeling well again. If she could get Woody to leave after lunch and then let Will go to the movies with his friends, she was going to go back to bed and see if she could get to feeling better.

"He's doing well…got some serious moves on the field. I imagine he'll get more playing time this season…"

"That's what the coaches have told me…."

Woody nodded, absent-mindedly sliding his hands in his jean pockets. "Are you okay, Jordan…you look a little flushed."

"Must be the heat from the oven…"

Woody raised an eyebrow. "How's the cold?" he asked moving over to stand beside her.

"Better," she said, lying through her teeth. "Stay for lunch? I've got plenty."

"Thanks, but I've got a few things I need to do this afternoon," he replied, sneaking a piece of pepperoni off the pizza and popping it in his mouth.

She was going to tease him about eating and running…that it wasn't polite and to sit down and have a couple of slices of pizza wasn't going to take that long….she honestly was…but when she opened her lips, suddenly her world went black. The last thing she heard was Woody's frantic "Jordan," before she found herself slipping off into a dark world of blessed peace.

"Pneumonia…. Both lungs," the doctor pronounced at the emergency room.

Woody ran a hand down his tired face and tightened the grip he had with the other hand on Will's shoulder. "What…what now?" he asked.

"We'll keep her in the hospital a few days…with a couple of antibiotic drips…she'll be able to go home probably by Tuesday…but she'll be in bed for a while. I don't know how she made it this long without collapsing," the doctor replied.

"Can we see her?" Will asked. Woody thought he had never heard a voice filled with so much fright. After Jordan had collapsed in the kitchen, Woody had frantically dialed 911 and called for Will. Woody had gotten her to the couch, and one touch to her forehead let him know she was burning with fever. The trip to the emergency room seemed to take forever…and he found out that Will possessed his father's ability to pace without ceasing if nervous.

"Let admitting get her settled in her room and then you both can go up," the doctor replied before turning his attention to another patient.

So they paced and waited …until a nurse told them Jordan was ready. Her room was 412, go up and see her, but don't stay long or tire her out. She needed to rest.

Jordan's eyes were closed when they entered her room. Without hesitation, Will went over to her and took her hand. "Mom?" he questioned softly.

"Sweetheart," Jordan mumbled, struggling to open her eyes.

"You scared me..."

"Sorry. Don't know what happened…"

"Yeah…you didn't do too much for me, either," Wood joined, taking her other hand gingerly….this was the arm that had the IV drips in them.

Jordan shook her head as if to fightoff the feeling of haziness that seemed to be surrounding her. "Not sure what it is….I haven't really felt good in a couple of weeks. But I've never had a cold this bad…or the flu."

"It's neither," Woody replied. "You've got pneumonia."

"What?"

"You heard me. Pneumonia. The doctor said you'll be here until at least Tuesday…and then bed rest for a while. And no arguments. This one time, you'll do what I say." He softened his words with a smile…one so like their son's that Jordan felt her heart melt just a little.

"Will…you'll stay with Will?"

Woody nodded. "Of course. Anything else?"

"Call Garret. I'm going to need him to cover for me at the morgue."

"Good as done. Just don't worry. Will and I have everything under control. You just rest and get better…we'll be back later." Woody brushed her curls away from her face and bent down to gently kiss her forehead. "Concentrate on getting well…that's all I ask."

Jordan nodded and felt herself drift back off…glad for one more time in her life there was someone there she could depend on….and glad that this time that someone was Woody.