Chapter Eight

Just Be Ready

"Your check," the maitre d' said, interrupting their conversation.

"Ummm, yeah," Woody replied, absent-mindedly slapping his Visa card on top of the leather receipt folder and motioning for the maitre d' to take it away. Then turning his attention back to Jordan, Woody continued. "What do you mean, think twice about the whole wedding idea?"

"I… just….well…."

"Your receipt, sir," the pompous maitre d' said, returning the slip of paper back to Woody for his signature and hopefully a substantial tip. Woody signed the paper and took Jordan's hand, leading her out of the restaurant and onto the boardwalk.

"Well?" he nearly demanded once he had her to himself and away from the haughty maitre d'. "What are you saying?"

Time to come completely clean… Jordan thought to herself. She pulled her hand out of Woody's and nervously twisted her fingers together. "It's not that I don't want to marry you, Woody…"

"Are we moving too fast, Jordan? Are you getting cold feet?"

"No…no!" she replied, ceasing twisting her fingers together to look up into his blue eyes. "That's not it…not it at all. I love you…and I want to marry you. The sooner the better…it's just that ….that…." her throat constricted and the words choked off.

"Hey….it's just me….Woody. Talk to me, Jo. Tell me what's wrong," Woody softly said, turning her to him and running both hands down her arms…hopefully a comforting gesture that would encourage her to continue.

His touch was her undoing…it always was. Suddenly the words came tumbling out. "It's just that I can't do it…the wedding, that is….Flowers, receptions, music…a place to have the ceremony….I tried to get help from Nigel and Lily, but that was a huge mistake. Lily wants my wedding to be like the wedding she always wanted and Nigel wants to dress me in something that looks more appropriate for the honeymoon than the ceremony…I can't do this, Woody. It's falling apart…and you deserve so much….so much better than this….maybe so much better than me…" her voice lowered to a whisper on the last sentence and her eyes returned to her fingers that were still twisting themselves in knots.

"Ah…so that's it," Jordan heard his voice – it held an amused tone to it and then she felt him pull her to him and envelope her in his arms. "Is that all? Just worry over the wedding?"

Numbly she nodded, her head now on his shoulder. God, she always felt so safe in his arms…like everything was going to be okay…that the world would be right again. Without even realizing what she was doing, she snuggled closer and wrapped her arms around him. "To me, Vegas is sounding better all the time, you know?"

Woody shook his head. "Nope. Nothing doing. We're getting married in Boston." He sounded firm and decided.

"Then we need to back the ceremony off a few months. There's no way I can pull this off in a few days, Woody. No way. You were right. We should have had a year to plan this…if I could even do it by then…."

His chuckle shook him and her both. "Nothing doing. By the end of this month, you will be Dr. Mrs. Woodrow Wilson Hoyt."

"I don't see how….I suck at this wedding planning stuff…I'm a complete and utter failure at something most women have planned out to the last detail by the time they're nine…"

Woody drew his breath in with surprise. "You never thought about your wedding, Jo? I figured that was the right of passage for every young girl…it came somewhere between getting your ears pierced and the first pimple…"

Jordan shook her head. "Maybe it had something to do with not having a mother around to help you through puberty …or whatever. I just never pictured it…or even imagined it. I guess I just always assumed it would be me and Dad for the rest of my life…and now I can't even find him…" Her head lowered again. "I'm a failure as a woman, Woody…Are you sure about this…about me? I can't be your ideal woman…not after the way I've botched things up with the wedding."

"Hey…" Woody put two fingers under her chin and lifted her head so their eyes met. "The wedding is just one day in the rest of our life…a life I want to spend with you…for richer or poorer…in sickness and in health…through good times and bad. I can't imagine doing that with anyone else nor do I want to. You…are my woman…perfections and imperfections. I love you, Jordan Marie Cavanaugh."

The tears that had been threatening now spilled over her cheeks as she hugged him tightly. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" she asked.

Woody returned her tight embrace. "I don't know…but…what's say we go home and maybe I'll find a way to let you know?" His fingers trailed suggestively down her spine, sending cold chills and hot fever through her body.

"Sounds like a wonderful idea…"

"And Jo?"

She looked up into his eyes.

"Don't worry anymore about the wedding day. Tell Nigel and Lily not to do anything else. Everything is going to be fine. Just promise me you won't call off the ceremony or cancel Paul. Okay?"

"But Woody…."

"Promise me. Now."

Confusion reigned in her eyes, but softly she replied, "I promise…."

The days clicked by and Jordan felt oddly removed from the entire wedding scenario. She had told Nigel and Lily to back off, which they did, but she still caught Lily giving her the strangest looks. And Nigel was downright conspiratorial about the entire thing. Somewhere along the way, the pink folder with "Jordan's Wedding" across the front completely disappeared, although one day she could have sworn she saw it on Garret's desk. She shook her head over that one, convinced she truly losing it….going crazy. The last place that damn file fold would be found was on the Chief ME's desk.

As a matter of fact, Garret had been strangely silent on the whole wedding thing. He had gladly given Jordan the time off that she needed for the honeymoon, but had been quiet about everything else. With Max now being absent from her life, Jordan at least had expected the "fatherly" talk from her bestest girlfriend… "Are you sure you're doing the right thing…do you really want to spend the rest of your life with this man….?"

Instead, Garret went on with his duties with the same quiet self-discipline he always had, although Jordan did notice that he was gone a little more than usual and that Renee' Walcott was calling more frequently…and dropping by his office. Maybe Renee' and Garret are getting things on again…she idly wondered one afternoon after the DA and ME had a long discussion behind closed doors.

Now it was a week until her wedding and everyone was acting as if nothing was happening. She had asked Woody about it…wondering if indeed the whole wedding ceremony thing was really still going to occur.

"Don't worry," had been his reply…"just be ready…"

Don't worry….that's easy for him to say…she thought as she marked yet another day off her calendar.

Well, today is it, Jordan thought, as she yawned, stretched, and tumbled out of bed….only to find her apartment empty. No Woody anywhere…he had been there last night…at least part of the night….she remembered rolling over to try to find him about five morning, but encountered only cold sheets. She had assumed that he was in the bathroom. But come to think of it, he never came back.

A lump of fear rose in her throat. She stumbled to the kitchen to find a large note on the refrigerator: To the Future Mrs. Hoyt: Have to take care of some last minute details for today…just be ready by this afternoon. Someone will be by to pick you up at five. Love, Your Future Husband, Woody.

Be ready by five? For what? Justice of the Peace? Cocktails and dinner? He could have been a little more forthcoming… Jordan thought as she poured herself a cup of coffee and toasted a bagel. Be ready by five…for what?

The answer came nearly an hour later. There was a knock at her door. It was Nigel and his hairdresser roommate, Byron. "I'm almost afraid to ask what you're doing here," she commented as she let them in.

"We're here to help you get ready," Byron said, eyeing Jordan who was still clad in her yellow duckie sleep shirt. "And from the way it appears, we have hours of work to do…"

Nigel nodded. "She's not quite so hopeless once she's bathed. To the shower with you, love…" And he pushed her towards the bedroom and her bathroom. "Use all the girlie bath stuff you don't normally use…."

"Uh-huh…."

An hour later, a flushed and good-smelling Jordan emerged. "Now we can get started," Nigel said. And for the next several hours, Jordan began to feel a little like Cinderella as Byron worked his magic with her hair and make-up. She had been a little afraid at first, putting herself in the flamboyant hairdresser's hands, but the look that Byron created for her was soft and natural. Her hair was curled and piled loosely on top of her head with small, white flowers woven through.

"Perfect," Nigel commented. "You'll look stunning with this…" and from a box that Jordan had assumed held more hair supplies, Nigel removed a simple white veil that would fasten with a band of flowers around her hair and fall in a cascade down her back.

"Nigel…it's beautiful…" Jordan commented, fingering the fine tulle. "Where did you get it…and how did you know …"

"I can do simple…and elegant. It's the 'less is more comment' you made that threw me off." He grinned as he helped Byron place it in her hair.

"Now for the dress…." Nigel continued.

"Ah…that…." A few minutes later, Jordan found herself encased in her white lace and Irish linen dream and Nigel fastened the sash around her waist.

"You look ….beautiful, Jordan," Nigel whispered, as he kissed her on the cheek. "Woody is going to be so surprised…"

"Woody? Where is he?"

"I imagine he's getting ready, too," Byron said as he and Nigel packed up their supplies to go. "We have to get dressed, too….and …"

Nigel cut him off. "And so we need to be going." He kissed Jordan on the cheek again. "See you there, love."

"There? Where?" Jordan asked, completely bewildered. "And who's going to take me?"

"Don't worry…." was all Nigel would say as he let himself out of her apartment and closed the big red door behind him.

Jordan didn't have to wait long to find out who and what was her ride to her wedding…that she had no idea where it was…Another knock on her door began to answer her questions.

"Hello, Jahdan…."

"Dad?"

There standing in front of her, dressed to the nines in a black tuxedo was Max.