FEEDBACK: Yes, please. I respond to everything except flames. Constructive criticism is valued.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters. No profit is being made. It's all for fun.
A/N: Thanks again for the reviews!. As much as I am no doubt a W/J shipper, this story has been fun to write, due to the amazing chemistry between JH and JD.
Part Five: Times Like These
Boston
Jordan's brow knit down in puzzlement. "Apologize? For what?"
Woody took a deep breath. "After the shooting." He swallowed. "The way I behaved. I did and said a few things – more than a few really…."
She stared at him for a moment, her heart thudding dully in her chest. For months back then she had kept herself open to the possibility of his returning to her. She had cried and ached and yes, even grieved, God help her, for the way things had turned out. He had used her, then blamed her for her "betrayal" of him to the Riggs task force. He had treated her coldly, ignoring her unless it suited him. Still she had let hope flicker in her heart and soul. She'd waited for that apology, until slowly even Jordan Cavanaugh's vaunted stubbornness had conceded defeat. Until she'd realized she'd fallen in love with Danny McCoy. Her throat now was tighter than she would have liked. "That was a long time ago, Woody."
His expression was rueful. "Seems like yesterday sometimes."
Confusion flickered over her face, clouded her eyes. What do you want, Woody? She nearly asked him, but feared the answer. Instead she replied, inanely she realized, "Time flies."
Woody's eyes bored into her. She dropped her gaze to her son. After a moment, Woody spoke again. "Everything's okay with – with him?"
Deliberately, Jordan said his name. "Daniel. And yes, he's fine."
"That's good, Jo."
Her head spun. No one had called her that in years. Danny had always used her full name – or teasingly called her Dr. Mc Coy, drawing out the syllables of their shared last name as though the very act of speaking them pleased him. She took a deep breath, willing away the tears that came as she stumbled upon another "never again," as she'd begun to think of them.
Woody saw the change in her. "Hey, Jo? You okay?"
She nodded and forced herself to smile. "Post partum hormones." She made the "crazy" motion, twirling her finger and pointing it at her own head. "Wacky stuff. Ask any new mom."
"You sure?"
"Of course, I'm sure. I've done this before after all."
He nodded. "Well, I – uh – I wanted to do that – to apologize. I know it was a long time ago, but-"
"Yeah," she murmured. "Thank you."
He stood up, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to lean in and kiss her forehead. He'd given up that privilege long ago, and whatever he'd come here looking for today no longer existed.
"Oh, by the way," she said, regaining her composure. "It's a little late, but congratulations." It was Woody's turn to look perplexed. "Lily told me – uh – I know it was a couple years ago – but you got married. That's great."
He shook his head and held up a bare left hand. "Didn't work. But thanks for the thought." He left her looking stunned.
In the hallway he leaned against the wall. If he'd felt dumb when he went in to see her, he now felt like the champion idiot of all time. The Jordan he'd loved was gone. The woman he'd spent years yearning for, had ruined a marriage because of that yearning no longer existed. He began to wonder if the woman he'd wanted ever had really been there. He asked himself if this Jordan could ever have been if she'd stayed in Boston, if he hadn't pushed her away. He hated Danny McCoy for seeing the things in Jordan that he, who had called himself her best friend, had not. Most of all, though, he hated himself for losing the chance.
The question now was what he was going to do about it.
XXXXX
Woody didn't visit again, nor did he call her. To Jordan the incident was forgotten, for the most part. She had too much to do to think about the past. The typical sleep deprivation that came with a newborn seemed worse without Danny to help. She'd nursed both girls, but when they'd awoken in the night, Danny had always been the one to go get them. She'd nursed half-awake a good many nights, her husband stirring when the feedings were done and returning the babies to their cribs. Many times they hadn't gotten much sleep after a nocturnal feeding because they'd ended up making love, but the exhaustion had been a good one, a satisfied tiredness that rested on them, but didn't sink into their bones.
During the day, shepherding two active daughters, and caring for an infant, Jordan found her time and thoughts consumed by a myriad of details. At night, she cried as the baby suckled. She imagined the way Danny's hand used to lay on her hair while she fed their children. Damn it, she could still hear the soft, sleep-slurry things he used to say, the words that would quicken her pulse and start her body to aching for his touch. Sometimes, in the wonderfully fresh, milky scent of new baby, she would catch the faintest whiff of his aftershave and her heart would break all over again.
Exhaustion gave way to depression. She fought the smothering feelings of despair, but the battle went nowhere. She realized something had to change when she heard Catherine talking to Lily, who'd phoned to see how the baby was. Jordan's older daughter was telling Aunt Lily that Mommy needed her because Mommy was still so sad, not even baby Danny helped. By the time Lily arrived, Jordan had made a decision.
Ed had been asking if the girls could come for a visit. Two weeks, Jordan. It'll do you all good. Jordan had been resisting, feeling guilty at the thought of dumping her children on someone else just because she was a little tired. Now she called him. And told him she'd like Mindy to come back with them.
Three days later Ed had whisked away the girls and Jordan was suddenly rattling around the house with only the baby to care for. For the next four days she slept whenever he did. She took to getting up and nursing Daniel – the girls could call him Danny but God knew she wasn't ready yet – in the rocking chair in the nursery. It was different and different hurt less. Jordan's mood lightened.
On the day her baby was two months old, Jordan stepped out of the shower and, for the first time in seven months, the first thing she thought wasn't about the way Danny used to watch her towel off and how frequently they'd both ended up back in the shower together. It was the second thing.
It was progress.
She called Garret and told him she'd be back at work in a month. She looked at her son and smiled, the first time since Danny's death when she felt like she was smiling just for herself. "And tonight, kiddo, you and me are gonna party! We've got some celebrating to do."
Daniel cooed in agreement.
XXXXX
Partying meant carry-out pizza from the place four blocks over and one beer. As darkness fell, Jordan strapped Daniel into the baby-carrier-backpack, grabbed her purse and walked out the door. She hummed a lullaby to him as they walked. After a block or two, she asked him if they should get a dog. Though he didn't have much opinion on that, Jordan was certain his sisters would. It was something she and Danny had talked about, but it just never happened. Her step faltered for a moment. The baby cooed again. The wind soughed through the trees. And inside Jordan Cavanaugh McCoy a door that had slammed shut the day her husband's life had drained away opened. She had her memories and she had their children. She'd wanted more – spending fifty years together, watching their children get married and have babies of their own, tottering around the retirement home, toothless and shouting at each other to be half-heard. But this was what she had, and Danny had shown her that sometimes the things you think won't be enough, won't matter, are the very ones that sustain you.
"What kind of dog should we get?" She asked her son. He gurgled. "Right. A Labrador Retriever. Perfect."
XXXXX
"Dr. McCoy!" The cashier greeted Jordan with a bright smile and came around from the register to give the baby a kiss on the cheek. Jordan wondered if she and the girls got their dinner here a little too often. "Can I?" The girl gestured to Daniel.
Jordan nodded and felt his weight being lifted from the backpack. She smiled at the teenager, who was waltzing Daniel back behind the counter and asking Jordan if she wanted the usual. "And a bottle of Sam Adams."
Lanie's eyebrows rose.
"It's okay," Jordan assured her. "One beer won't kill him. And we're celebrating."
The girl's eyes glowed with anticipation. "What?"
Jordan leaned over and rubbed her nose against her son's. "Daniel is two months old today."
From the kitchen they heard Lanie's father, Albert, calling out, asking if it was the McCoy's. "Just Dr. McCoy and the baby, Dad! Dr. McCoy wants her usual."
"Got it!" the man yelled back. "But tell her only if I get to see the little one."
With a laugh, Jordan waved for Lanie to take the baby back to the kitchen. Catherine and Sarah had been welcome visitors in the Montecito's kitchens, and Jordan had learned long ago not to worry – too much. She smiled to herself and took a seat to wait for her pizza. She doubted she'd see the baby again before then. Lanie's brothers also helped out in the kitchen and her mother was the bookkeeper and… Jordan might as well as enjoy the down time.
She thought about pizza in Las Vegas. It seemed like no one in the city could make one without topping it with a dazzling combination of exotic ingredients. Jordan hadn't minded giving some of them a try, though she'd frequently joked that when it took you longer to order the pie than to eat it, something was terribly wrong. However, when pregnant with Catherine she had craved a good, simple pepperoni pizza. Danny had badgered one of the chefs until the man gave in and made Jordan exactly what she wanted – no herbed crusts, a simple tomato sauce sans organically grown fresh basil and the like, good mozzarella cheese instead of some "secret" six cheese blend and the kind of pepperoni you could get at a store, not one that came from one exclusive source in a small village in Italy. To the chef's outward disgust and inward delight at having made Dr. McCoy happy, Jordan never went back to mango-chipotle-smoked turkey, rosemary-wheat crust pizzas again. She thought of the times they'd call down in the middle of the night, then sit up in bed, hunkered over the room service tray and eat until the sun came up, talking the whole while. Almost without exception, Jordan would manage to drip sauce on herself somewhere. She let her memory drift to the times Danny would lean over and lick it from her chin, or wrist or… well, some of those drips hadn't been entirely accidental on her part.
For the second time that day her heart didn't break.
She looked up as the door squeaked open. He didn't see he,r and that was fine. For a moment she could study the man she'd once loved. Woody stepped to the counter. He peered around and then called out a tentative greeting.
From her table, Jordan smiled. "Come here often?"
He turned around. "Jordan! Hey." He walked over and gazed down at her. "What are you doing here?"
"I like to hang around pizza parlors. Didn't you know?" She grinned. "What do you think, Woody?"
He grinned back at her. "Where are – um – the kids?"
"Ed Deline convinced me to let the girls spend a couple of weeks with him, so it's jut me and – and Danny." Her tongue came to a crashing halt. "The baby," she added, her heart racing now. No, she still wasn't ready for that. Maybe someday.
Woody looked around, giving her a look that asked if those new mom hormones were still affecting her. "He's – where?"
"Oh," she chuckled. "Lanie took him in the back. He's kind of popular around here."
Woody pulled out the chair across from her. "How've you been?"
For a moment, she considered telling him everything had been great, nothing wrong, don't worry about her, but that had never been her way. She seesawed her hand. "Three kids, one who's a newborn…." She shrugged. "It's been a bit rough."
He looked genuinely concerned. "You okay?"
She nodded. "Yeah. I hate to admit it, but having Ed take Catherine and Sarah has been great." She sighed. "I even agreed to let him send some help back with them." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "A nanny."
Woody laughed. "I kind of thought you would have had one before."
"No way! Danny and I did everything ourselves." She smiled softly. "Although we did have a whole casino staff ready to baby sit at a moment's notice."
"Do you miss it? Living out there?"
Jordan shrugged. "I miss some things. The weather. The friends I made out there." Danny's name went unspoken. "But in some ways life just isn't real out there. Not where I – where we were." She looked around the small pizzeria. "We never went to places like this. No need to. After a while, though, you miss seeing all the different kinds of people." She took a deep breath. "How are you?"
He nodded. "Pretty good. Up for a promotion, so I can't complain."
"That's great. I'm sure you deserve it."
"Dr. McCoy?" Lanie reappeared, Daniel riding over her shoulder. She blushed when she saw a new customer. "Oh, wow! Sorry, Detective Hoyt! I was – um…." Her voice trailed off. She gave Woody a look of teenage puppy love for a moment. "Your pizza's ready, Dr. McCoy." The girl rushed on. "I'll – uh – I'll get the baby back in the carrier."
Jordan smiled. "Thanks." She stood up, feeling Daniel's reassuring weight return to the backpack. She hadn't realized how disconnected part of her had been without him. Lanie's father carried out the pizza and waved at Jordan.
With a wave in return, Jordan reached for the box.
"Um – let me," Woody said, intercepting her.
"It's fine, Woody. I can manage."
He looked out the window. "It's dark, Jordan."
"And this is a good neighborhood."
"It's still Boston and you're still a woman alone with a baby. Come on, I'll walk you home."
"What about you? You obviously came in here to get dinner."
He gave her a small smile. "I'll come right back. Lanie knows my usual." He gave the teen a wide grin. She blushed and dipped her head. The detective looked back at the woman in front of him. "I'd feel better knowing you got home safely."
Shaking her head, Jordan acquiesced. They walked in silence. Halfway home, the baby began to fuss a bit. "Probably misses all the attention," his mother commented wryly.
To her surprise, Woody began to hum a lullaby. Jordan arched her eyebrows at him. He stopped. "What? My mother used to sing it to Cal and me."
"Ah," Jordan replied. "Well, he seems to like it."
So Woody continued, humming softly to Jordan's son, every fiber of his being wishing that this was their son and every brain cell acknowledging just how badly he'd screwed up and all the dark corners of his heart despairing of earning her back.
When they reached the house, Woody gave a low whistle. "Not bad."
Jordan nodded. "Ed. He's done a lot for us. Of course, if I hadn't let him, I think he'd have found some way to keep me in Las Vegas." She unlocked the front door. "Thanks for walking us home."
"You're welcome, Jo. It was nice."
"Yeah." She tilted her head. "Look, Woody, that pizza is a large – more than enough for two. Why don't you come in?"
His deep eyes studied her for a moment. "You don't have to."
"I know," she said with a smile. "I want to. We owe you. And this is a celebration."
He gave her a confused look. "Daniel's two months old today."
Woody looked at the child in the backpack. "Well, in that case…."
"Good." She stood aside to let him enter. He found his way to the kitchen and set the pizza down. As she got herself out of the baby carrier and freed Daniel from the safety straps, she heard him searching for plates. She came into the kitchen. "I'll get everything if you'll take him. It'll be easier." She thrust the baby at him, giving him no choice but to take the infant awkwardly in his arms. "He likes to be on a shoulder," she informed him as she moved around, pulling out plates and glasses. "Beer?"
His neck craned to gaze at the bundle now drooling on his dress shirt, he didn't really hear her. "Huh?"
She waggled the single bottle at him.
He shook his head. "Thanks, though. Whatever you've got is fine."
"Careful when you say that. We're well stocked on Juicy Juice boxes!" He laughed with her. "Go on into the family room – if you don't mind eating on the couch? I can put Daniel in his play pen and…?"
"Fine, Jo." He followed the direction she'd waved. Holding the baby, he moved around the room, seeing so many things that were so Jordan and many others that weren't. His heart clenched at the photo on the credenza behind the couch. Jordan's wedding photo. Her dress had been cream, simple, elegant. Danny was resplendent in military dress. They stood, her head on his chest, his arms tight around her, his eyes drinking her in as she smiled for the camera.
Jordan came in juggling two plates and a couple of cups. "I see you found-"
Woody turned around and she caught the drift of his gaze. Their eyes locked.
END Part Five