A.N. Thanks for the reviews! I'm sorry it has taken so long to update, but life is getting more hectic as the days grow shorter. Like everyone, I am anxiously awaiting the premiere! One week! Yeah! Please leave a review!
Cry Another Day
-Elisabeth Carmichael-
"I see you've taken my advice Jordan," Garret grinned at her as she walked off the elevator sporting very Jordan-esque maternity clothes.
She flashed him a pathetic attempt at a smile.
Garret grabbed her arm lightly and pulled her into his office, "Why are you so down?"
"What're you talking about man?" she flipped her hand nonchalantly at him.
"I don't know," his voice grew gruff, "you just seem less…less…you."
"He, uh, he doesn't want to be in our child's life," she nervously bit her lip.
"Oh Jordan, I'm so sorry. I can't believe he'd…" Garret drew her into a friendly hug, consoling her.
"I'll be fine. He's just such an ass!" Jordan sounded hysterical, "I mean, he can't do this to me. I love him, he runs, I'm pregnant, he runs. Does he really hate me that much?"
Garret sighed heavily, "No, he could never hate you. I'm sure he's just scared. Look at him, cooped up in a hospital for almost four months, looking forward to at least a month of desk duty, and now here he is told you're pregnant and he's the father…" Garret paused, "I'm not justifying his actions, but I can see why he's afraid."
"I'm scared too! Look at me Garret. I'm not fit to be a mother."
"That's not true Jordan. You will make a great mom."
"Thanks Gar," she smiled slightly.
"Do you want me to talk to him?"
"Nah," she shook her head, "He's made his choice. Let him sweat over it."
Garret sighed, shaking his head, "Jane Doe, waiting in trace for you."
Jordan grabbed the file from his hand with a slight smirk and then placed a kiss on his forehead.
Garret ran a hand through his short hair as he walked towards the elevator. Nigel was running to catch up with him.
"Hey Dr. M!" the lanky Brit shouted, "Can I have a moment?"
Garret turned, "Sure Nigel. What is it?"
"Um, I was wondering," his voice was subdued, "Have you noticed any changes in Jordan lately?"
"Like what?"
"Oh, I don't know. She's been really moody. Happy one day, down right depressed the next, almost as if she keeps changing her mind about something. I'm worried. She's been putting on a lot of extra weight too."
Garret sighed, "Look Nigel, I'm sure she's just worried about Woody. She'll get better."
Wary eyed, Nigel accepted Garret's reason, "Alright. Tell dear Woodrow hello for me, will you?"
Garret nodded, "Sure thing."
Fifteen minutes later he arrived at Woody's hospital room, red from walking up the stairs.
"Where the hell do you get off treating Jordan like that?" he stormed into the room, anger written in the crease of every line on his face.
Woody looked up from the chair he was sitting in, "Excuse me Dr. Macy?"
"She's scared to death and you tell her you can't be a part of your child's life?"
"I told her I'm sorry. I just don't think I can handle that sort of relationship with Jordan."
"Why? Because she loves you? Because she made herself vulnerable and now suddenly the game is over and she isn't desirable? To be honest, right now I don't think Jordan needs you. You don't deserve her. It's your baby too, and she is trying her hardest to come to terms with the pregnancy. But she has no options. She can't run away from the baby. Grow up Woody."
Two stormy blue eyes stared intently at Dr. Macy, eyes furious, "She ran from me! Maybe over time I could have come to grips with this, but she ran away. Our relationship was rocky from the very beginning…it never had a chance. Look Dr. Macy, I have tried to convince her to come back home, but she is screening my calls."
Garret looked at Woody incredulously, "Jordan is home. What are you talking about?"
"The other night she returned one of my calls and then hung up in a fury, saying she had to pack. Didn't you wonder why she didn't show up for work?"
"Jordan was at a conference this weekend in New York. She came back last night."
Embarrassed, Woody averted his gaze, turning it instead out the window onto the bright Boston day. Maybe, just maybe the weather was a sign indicating how things would work out with Jordan. Perhaps all was not lost.
"Is she pissed?"
Garret seemed startled at the sound of Woody's voice, "What do you think!"
"So it would be a bad idea to see her?"
Garret studied the detective, looking for any sign of insincerity, "Actually, I think that would be okay." He paused, staring straight into Woody's eyes, "If you don't upset her."
"Alright, okay, good. I'm getting released today. Maybe I'll drop in on her tonight."
"Just remember Woody, she's scared as hell." With that, Garret left the room, striding off down the hall.
Woody laughed slightly to himself, "Jordan Cavanaugh scared…now this I have got to see."
A burning pizza was in the oven, timer beeping furiously as Jordan tried to read the instructions for assembling the crib she had just purchased. She padded over to the stove, still trying to decode the manual in one hand as she pulled the pizza from the oven with the other.
"Ouch!" she recoiled from the hot crust. Staring intently at the instruction booklet as she turned off the oven, she shouted in frustration, "What the hell does 'tak' mean?"
Unfortunately her brilliant plan to purchase a stylish, mid-century, Danish crib had one major flaw: the instructions came in Danish, Swedish and Norwegian. She walked back over to the pile of beautiful teak, hoping that it would magically put itself together.
"Okay, all I have to do is connect the 'bordet' to the…" she could not pronounce the next word, "I give up."
Someone rapped twice on her door, almost afraid of making a noise.
"Coming, coming," Jordan said lazily as she walked to the door.
Opening it a crack, she saw the last person she had expected, Woody.
"Uh, um, why aren't you in the hospital?" she stammered.
"Released today."
"Oh," she looked to the floor, "Do you need something?"
"Just to tell you how sorry I truly am," he studied her body.
Her stomach was growing, albeit slowly, and her skin had taken on a healthy glow.
Jordan remained silent.
"Can I come in Jo?" he asked tentatively.
She looked up, "Yeah, whatever, maybe you can help me."
"With what?"
"Assembling this crib," she waved her hand towards the pile of teak, "The instructions are in Danish."
"Isn't it a little soon to set up a crib?"
Her eyes narrowed sharply, "No. I have to get ready to be a single mom; it pays to be prepared."
Woody was obviously beating himself up over asking such a stupid question, "Look, Jordan, I was thinking. I've been a jerk about this whole thing."
"Yeah, you have."
"I'm just afraid. I didn't want our relationship to be built on anything besides true love. That's why I pushed you away when I was shot. And then with this pregnancy…I just…it all got so complicated."
"When all you wanted was to see where we ended up," she finished for him, "I know. Woody, trust me, I know."
A comfortable silence floated between the two, a neutral truce for two stubborn minded people.
"You gonna help put this together or what?" Jordan finally said, grabbing a piece of teak and tilting it up.
"Whoa there. No heavy lifting for you Jordan," Woody smiled affectionately.
"If you say so."
"I do say so."
The next morning, Jordan woke up with a groan as light filtered in through the windows and made dancing patterns across the floor. She threw back her duvet and sat up, wiping her eyes. Adjacent to her bed was the completed crib, still without any linens, but handsomely outfitted in stunning teak and sleek lines.
How did that get there? She wondered in her daze. I don't remember figuring out how to assemble it.
Slowly she picked herself up out of bed and proceeded to take off her tank top as she walked towards the kitchen, exposing her simple grey bra. She fixed herself a cup of coffee before sitting down at the table, one hand resting on her protruding stomach.
"What's that smell? It smells so good," came a groggy voice from somewhere in Jordan's living room.
She turned around stunned, trying to cover her body up with her hands as she sought out the voice. Only then did she remember who had stopped by the previous night, Woody.
"Woody?" she called out tentatively.
She could hear him on her couch scrambling to sit up, "Where am I?"
Slowly, Jordan walked into his view, "I think you fell asleep on my couch."
Woody stared at her incredulously, "Jordan? What the?" only then did he realize how very little she was wearing, "Umm," he turned his head away in embarrassment.
"Excuse me," Jordan pardoned herself to get her robe.
"I fell asleep here?"
"Yeah I guess. After you finished the crib maybe."
He swallowed, "I vaguely remember that. You were exhausted Jordan."
"Thanks Woody, for helping with the crib. But I think maybe you should leave now," her eyes betrayed her words.
"Yeah, you're probably right. But don't hesitate to call if you need help with anything like that. I don't want you to get hurt because in spite of it all, I still care about you as a friend."
"I know Woody," she smiled slightly, "I do too."
"So, are we okay?" he gave her a hesitant show of his dimples.
"No, but you're getting closer."