A.N. Sorry for the delay. I have been writing and re-writing this chapter. Please read and review!

Cry Another Day

-Elisabeth Carmichael-

The next morning she awoke in a tangle of sheets, furiously kicking her legs to free herself from the pile. Overcast clouds hung limply in the sky with a groggy fog that seemed to have suppressed the entire city.

Pushing back hair from her face, Jordan made no attempt to hide her sulky mood. Almost in a zombie-like state, she pulled on pale pink, loosely fitting bohemian tank and a shapeless zip-up cardigan. Slipping on a baggy pair of trouser jeans and sensible running shoes, she grabbed her cell-phone and shoved it into her back pocket.

When Jordan arrived at the morgue she was already half an hour late and still in her sulky mood. She had yet to decide whether to tell anyone about her pregnancy. It would, after all, be much easier to relocate, but a part of her knew that sooner or later, everyone would know, including Woody.

"Jordan," Garret called from his office, "I need to see you for a minute."

Trying to perk up in attempts to avoid any unwanted questions, she put on a fake smirk and walked into his office. "What's up?"

He sat down and motioned for her to do the same. "Um, a Dr. Heilowitz stopped by today. She said she's your OB-GYN."

"Yeah, what did she want?"

"She dropped off a script and wanted me to tell you to get it filled immediately."

"Oh," Jordan took the script from Garret's hands and shoved it into her pocket.

"Is there anything you want to tell me Jo?" he asked in a paternal voice.

She hesitated for a moment before cocking her head and staring him straight in the eyes, "No, why?"

"I was just wondering why you need a script for pre-natal vitamins."

Her face dropped, eyes stealthily avoiding his gaze, "You must have read the prescription wrong. I don't need those." Jordan's voice was burdened, trying to make light of the situation but failing miserably.

"Jordan," he looked at her sternly, "What's going on?"

She raised her gaze to meet his, "Um, uh, I'm, uh, pregnant Garret. I don't really know how…I mean I do, but it doesn't make sense."

"So you really were raped?"

"No, no," she held her hands up, "I, uh, one of Woody's specimen jars containing his seaman spilled all over me a few months ago. That's how it happened," she looked at the ceiling shaking her head.

"Does he…"

"No, no I just found out last night. And I don't want him to know."

"He'll find out eventually Jo."

"I know," she brushed her hair back, "I'm just trying to avoid it."

And that was the truth. How could she explain to Woody that she was pregnant with his child despite neither of them wanting to have a baby? She wasn't the stupid girl who had unprotected sex and then instantly regretted it when she found out there are consequences. If that had happened, she reassured herself, then she would have embraced the idea. But to conceive a child without passion, without desire, and in a drunken state of emotional havoc... for the life of her, she could not see any good coming of this.

Garret stared at her long and hard, "Don't wait too long Jordan. The longer you wait, the harsher the blow."

"I just keep thinking that if I don't admit it, somehow it will just…go away." She looked close to tears, but expertly kept them from spilling over her eye lids.

"Jordan, no matter what, it won't go away. Even if you have an abortion, you will have still been pregnant."

Her eyes cut deeply towards Garret's, "I am not having an abortion. I could never do that. There is some reason that I am…that I am…there's a reason for it. There has to be."

That too was the truth. Despite not wanting the child, she could not take the easy way out and just terminate the pregnancy, pretend as if it never happened.

She let an ironic chuckle escape her lips, "Truth is, part of me is still that nine year old girl sitting in mass on Sunday, listening to the priest give a homily on abortion being wrong. I guess over the years I convinced myself that pro-choice is the independent woman's stance, but I never thought that I would have to make that choice. Now being in that position, I can't even conceive how someone could make the other decision."

With a sigh Jordan stood up, "To be honest, I never really gave serious consideration to having kids. I never saw myself like this," she rubbed her stomach slowly.

Garret stood, running his hands up and down her upper arms consolingly, "Jordan, you will make a terrific mother. I've seen you with Emma. You're a natural. And Woody will be a good father. It may not have been planned, but it will work out. I can't think of two better parents."

A lone tear escaped her whiskey colored eyes, "What if I don't love it? What if I can't love it?"

Pulling Jordan into a tight embrace, Garret firmly replied, "You will love this child Jo, with all of your heart. You just need to allow yourself to feel. And when you first hold this beautiful new life in your arms the love will multiply exponentially. It's inevitable."

"I guess I need to start looking into a two bedroom apartment," she quipped.

"Ever considered a house?" Garret asked dryly.

"Garret? Come on…me in a house?" came her sarcastic remark.

"Yeah, well, it wouldn't hurt any. Why don't you take the day off and start looking?"

"I'd rather not. But if it makes you happy, I'm going to call my real-estate agent when I get into my office."

"You know what would really make me happy?" Garret gave her a slight smile.

Rolling her eyes briefly she decided to respond, "What?"

"If you told the baby's father."

She looked at him sternly before deciding that he deserved no grief for stating the obvious, "I'll tell him…tomorrow. I just need some time to get used to the idea myself," her eyes were twinkling as the corner of her mouth was raised slightly.

He could tell by her grin that she was feeling more comfortable with the situation already. Taking a big leap of faith he asked her one of the touchiest questions, one that he alone could get away with asking, "And Jo, would it kill you to start buying some maternity clothes?"

Her eyes danced at his daring inquiry, "Yes, yes it just might."