The fight was quickly forgotten as he drove her to the hospital whispering tender and soothing words.

Woody was wonderful, holding her hand and wiping her forehead when the contractions came in waves that sliced through her. It was hard to believe that they had argued so bitterly. It was just his jet lag and her hormones, she told herself. The decor of their apartment wasn't important. What mattered was that he was safe and sound.

it was after midnight when Dr. Elliot arrived to exam her. "Are you ready to push?" she asked with a smile.

Jordan turned her eyes to Woody, who had gone slightly green but was squeezing her hand reassuringly. "You're gonna do great, Jordan."

At 3:16AM, she gave a final push, and their child slipped noisily into the world. "It's a boy!" the doctor shouted over the baby's fierce protests.

Jordan cried with joy and relief as Woody beamed down at her with pride. "You did it. It's a boy..." His eyes had welled with tears, and he kissed her on her damp forehead. "We have a son."

The doctor placed the baby on her chest, and he seemed to quiet instantly. "Hello, beautiful..." she whispered and ran a finger over his fine, black curls.

"Do you want to cut the cord?" the doctor asked. Woody flushed that same shade of green again, and his hands shook as she passed him the scissors.

They whisked him away for measuring and weighing, and Woody brushed away the wet strands of hair the stuck to her cheeks. "We never had time to talk about names."

"We're not doing the presidential thing..."

"Really? I thought Warren G. Harding Hoyt or William Clinton Hoyt," he teased.

"I like William. William Cavanaugh Hoyt."

He smiled. "William Cavanaugh Hoyt. It's perfect. Like him."

Everything was perfect. The baby, the name, the two of them. Any fears had evaporated as they glowed with happiness.

She went home the next day, tired, exhausted, and suddenly overwhelmed. The baby who had slept and nursed so well in the hospital became colicky. His bassinet filled up most of the remaining space in the bedroom. The apartment had been barely enough room for Woody alone, and now the three of them seemed to be tripping over each other.

She hadn't showered in days, and her hair and everything she wore smelled of baby spit-up and sour milk. They hadn't traded more than a few words to each other since Will had come home. More than once Woody's side of the bed would be empty when she woke up in the middle of the night to feed the baby, and she would find him in the living room, staring blankly at the TV set.

She was pacing the floor with Will early one morning, trying to get him to settle after a difficult night when Woody came in from the bedroom, attaching his police badge to his belt.

"Where are you going?" she asked, although she knew the answer.

"Work."

"But you're not supposed to go back until next week."

He shrugged. "I'm not doing you any good here, Jordan. I can't nurse him. I can't get him to quiet down the way you can."

"But..." she started. He cut her off.

"I can't deal with...this right now. It's making me crazy." He swept his arm across the room at the mound of dirty baby laundry and the sack of soiled diapers by the door. "I've just got to get back to work, okay? I'll...see you later tonight."

She continued to stare in mild shock at the closed door long after he had left, jiggling Will in her arms.

He seemed in a better mood when he got home. Perhaps returning to work was the best thing for him, for both of them. He had picked up the roll of film from the drugstore, as she had asked him to, and they sat together on the sofa passing back and forth pictures from Will's birth.

"What's this one?" he asked and passed her a photo of herself and Garret. Nigel had taken it of the two of them as they saluted the camera with their virgin coladas.

"Oh, that's from Lily's wedding."

"Lily's wedding?"

"Yeah. Back in December. Man, did my feet hurt that day." She laughed at the memory of it.

"Lily got married?"

"Yeah..." She looked up at him. Hadn't she written him?

He leaned forward, and then dropped the stack of photos he had been holding with a smack against the table. "Were you ever going to tell me about it?"

"I did. Didn't I? I thought I did." She frowned. It seemed a small detail.

"No, you didn't. I'm off in Iraq, away from my friends and family, and you don't think I might want to know something like that?"

"Woody, it's not that big a deal." She shook her head at the surreal absurdity of it. He was actually angry over her neglecting to tell her about a wedding the month before.

"Don't I get to decide what's a big deal anymore?"

She looked at him there, sitting across from her on the sofa. His ears were flushed crimson, the way they always did when he got angry. Something welled up from inside her: her own frustrations, her exhaustion, and months and months of resentment that she hadn't known existed. "Well, I'm sorry if I neglected to tell you about Lily's wedding. It got a little hard for me to remember what I was and wasn't supposed to tell you!"

"What does that mean? What else haven't you told me?" She looked away from him as her chin began to quiver. "Jordan! What is it?"

"They thought there might be a problem with Will. We might have lost him," she spat. "I had to wait three weeks for the test results, Woody. Three weeks. By. Myself. While you were going on in blissful ignorance. I was in agony. So, don't talk to me about Lily's wedding, because I really don't want to hear it."

He leapt up from the sofa and paced the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists. "I had a right to know that, Jordan. I had a right to know. He's my son, too."

"I didn't want to upset you. I didn't want to burden you with something that might distract you. You told me all it takes is one tiny mistake on that plane, and you could be responsible for the death of your crew. I couldn't do that to you."

He stood in front of her, arms folded angrily across his chest. "I had a right to know."

She said nothing. The silence was awful, and then Will began to fuss in his bassinet. She ran into the bedroom for him and when she returned, Woody was gone.

When he returned hours later, Will had finally settled again, and Jordan pretended to sleep. He came in the bedroom, and she could hear him moving around the room. Finally, he sighed and then came the familiar noise of the TV set in the living room. She cried silently until exhaustion overtook her.

XXXXXX

She told herself, as the arguments grew more frequent, that each one would be the last. They would get through it. It was the baby blues or a newlyweds' rough patch. Although, she knew that could never explain the dreams that caused him to wake up with a wrenching cry each night. That could never explain the black anger that gripped him at the least deviation in his daily routine.

It'll pass. It will pass, she told herself. But as the days and weeks went by, she feared that it wouldn't. Had the women at the base been right after all? Perhaps things would never get back to normal.

They had been relying on well-meaning friends to bring them food in the early days when Will first came home, but that sort of neighborliness always wears off long before the need of it does.

They had begun to frequent their local takeout places, and they sat in silence at the table eating Chinese for the third time that week. Jordan tried to shovel food in her mouth with one hand while balancing Will in the crook of her other arm.

Woody grabbed at his utensils and yanked his carton from the bag. As usual, every gesture was sharp and noisy. He raked some of the food out onto a plate, and then she heard the sound of his fork dropping onto the china.

She looked up. He had pushed himself back from the table. "What's wrong?"

"Mushrooms. I told them no mushrooms."

She looked over at his plate to the small pile of shiitake mushrooms. "Oh. Well, can't you just rake them off?"

"That's not the point. We're paying enough for this junk. I asked them for no mushrooms, they should do what I ask them to do. One little request. It's not that hard."

She tried to ignore him. It was one of his increasingly common rants about the least little thing. She knew it was best to lower her head and let him wear himself out. But perhaps it had finally gotten too much. She picked at her food and took a deep breath.

"Just. Take. Them. Out," she said slowly, her voice beginning to rise. "They're just mushrooms. All right? Take the damn things out. Can't we have a meal in peace? For once?" She lowered her head back down to her plate. She could feel his eyes on her.

He rose, and his chair fell with a clatter to the floor. He took his plate and stomped into the kitchen and dropped it into the trashcan. "There. They're out."

She swiveled in her chair to face him. "What is wrong with you?"

"There is NOTHING WRONG WITH ME!" He stormed back over to her with a force that frightened her. "Do you understand? There is nothing wrong with me. I just want my life back, okay? I want to joke around with the guys at work and have it be like it was. I want a house that doesn't smell like a diaper pail when I come in the door. I want a wife who takes a shower at least once a day. I want a kid who isn't screaming morning noon and night so it's all I hear. When I'm awake. When I'm asleep. All I hear is the screaming."

He clamped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. She was frozen in fear for him, and then she reached over to touch his arm when he let out a guttural cry. His arm swept down across the table. She ducked, and his half-empty carton of food sailed over her head and splattered on the wall behind her.

They watched each other for a moment in horror. Will stirred in her arms and began to fret. "Oh, God, Jordan. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

She was calm when she finally spoke and blinked back her tears. "I think you should leave."

He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I guess I need to cool off. Go for a walk or something."

"No." She shook her head. "You need to leave."

His arms dropped to his side in disbelief. "Are you throwing me out?"

"You need help. We need help. This isn't you."

"I'm fine, Jordan."

"You're not fine. You're so angry. It scares me, Woody."

He held up his hands in protest. "I would never hurt you or Will."

"I know you wouldn't mean to." She looked over at the brown streaks of food that ran down the wall. "But I don't want Will living like this."

He stood with a clenched jaw, and then finally nodded. He turned slowly and drew a suitcase from under the bed, and she watched while he dropped a few changes of clothes in it.

He came out and stood in front of her for a long moment. "One of the guys at the guard is still deployed. I can probably stay at his place for awhile. You can call me at work or on my cell if you need me."

He kneeled down and brushed at Will's soft cheek before he walked out the door of their apartment.

Will was fully awake now and arched his back with a yell. She rocked him and held him to her while she cried and whispered gentle words through her tears.