Chapter 11: Hold On Loosely, But Don't Let Go.

Jordan disappeared back into the bedroom. Two minutes later, on the dot, she reappeared was wearing a short robe made out of some kind of silky material. That, added with her freshly washed face and bed-tangled hair, gave her a soft feminine look that no fashion designer and super model could ever hope to reproduce. The effect was not lost on Woody. He searched his mind, trying to remember if he'd ever seen her look more beautiful. He came up empty. He gave her a soft smile, he held out a chair in effort to stop staring.

Woody's stare was not lost on her. It was almost after two in the morning. They were alone in his tiny kitchen. She sat down wondering if she should have put some clothes on and found the energy to comb her hair. She had the uncharacteristic need to blush. Blushing was childish and embarrassing. She would not blush.

"Cereal all right?" he asked rummaging through the cupboard. The peachy-pink color of her robe brought out the color in her skin. He wondered if it was proper to make a comment about the color of a bathrobe...or would she think he was coming on to her.

Food, right. "Sure," she said, clearing her throat. "What do you have?"

"Cheerios," Woody said reaching for his stash. "And some seriously doubtful granola," he added opening the top of the box in question.

The look on his face suggested that she should pick the sure thing. It was enough to make her forget her embarrassment. "I would have pictured you as more of a Fruit Loops kinda guy."

"They weren't on sale this week."

"I'll stick with the O's. Whole milk or skim?"

"2 percent."

"That works."

Making herself useful, Jordan poured the cereal into a pair of bowls while Woody fetched the milk out of the refrigerator. She arched an eyebrow as he covertly double checked the expiration date. It must be fine because he let out a little sigh of relief and pulled a couple glasses out of the drainer by the sink. He set down across from her brandishing a bowl of sugar and two spoons.

"Thanks."

They ate in silence. Woody wanted to give her time to decide if she wanted to talk or just take care of a case of late night munchies along with their impromptu pajama party. He watched her carefully. He noticed every time her eyes drifted over to the flowers Lily had dropped off.

"They're pretty. She really cares about you."

Jordan finished her milk.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked as his spoon hit the bottom of the bowl.

"Not really." She picked up the cereal box and asked. "Seconds?"

Woody grinned in defeat. He was reminded of a classic rock song that, while having a killer guitar riff in the middle, was not high on his must-listen list. It was one of those love-gone-wrong songs set to a pseudo-disco beat that stick in your head like a migraine. He never gave the lyrics much of a thought until he heard it on the car radio last week. The song talked about it being so easy to be overprotective when you're in love. To love her too much.

If you cling too tightly, you're gonna lose control.

He'd been there done that, and ended up finding some thing inside him that was as scary as hell. He needed to give her space...not press, for both their sakes.

Still, he had the advantage. She was sleeping in his bed. Alone. But she was safe and sound only a few feet away. Hold on loosely, but don't let go.

He held out his bowl and let her fill it. "All we need is a couple of beers."

Jordan cocked her head.

"Cereal and beer," Woody grinned devilishly. "The breakfast, lunch and dinner of champions. It was one of those self-indulgent things that got me through community college while trying to keep Cal and I above water."

Jordan paused as if she was mulling the thought of Woody and his brother living on a steady diet of sugar and alcohol. "Scotch and chocolate cake."

"What?" Woody asked refilling their milk glasses.

"Scotch and chocolate cake," she repeated. "..and cigarettes too. That's what got me through med school."

"Dewars and Duncan Hines. Interesting. I'll make a note to stock up. We both could use a little somethin' somethin'" He dug into his bowl happy to be at least conversing, not worrying about the mixed metaphor he was sending. "So you smoked? I would think that would be a big no-no for a med student."

Jordan looked at him skeptically. The hairs on her arms were still standing up thinking about how...interesting...it would be, if things were different, to spend some quality time with Woody, a bottle of whiskey, and some chocolate. "...Probably."

He filled his mouth with cereal and spoke between chews. "I see. Do as I say, not as I do."

Jordan wasn't insulted. His tone wasn't offensive. "I always had that problem," she said. Still, at least to Woody's ears, her own tone sounded slightly apologetic.

"Jordan..."

"You know I never thanked you for putting me up," she segwayed.

He knew her thank you was sincere. Still, he felt Guilt whispering in his ears.

Walcott had rolled the dice and had come up snake eyes. Woody had been around long enough to know it was a possibility...a huge probability... that Jordan's choices would be called to question. He just assumed, like Walcott, that it would happen at the trial. By the time the rusty cogs of the judicial system brought Santos's case to that point, Woody had hoped Walcott and her people would have enough to nail the bastard's coffin shut without Jordan's testimony. He was so sure of his assumptions that he drove half the night to hunt Jordan's El Camino down and bring her back... only to get her dragged through the mud.

They say hindsight is twenty/twenty. Her presence at the hearing served only to help the defense. Still, he had to ask himself if he would have done anything differently. Maybe. Sure. But he knew he couldn't let her go again...no matter what the cost.

"Don't worry about it. Mi Casa es Su Casa...or something like that. Besides it's nice to have someone who can appreciate a good bowl of cereal in the middle of the night."

Jordan watched the play of emotion cross his face even though he tried to cover. He was still feeling guilty. He was also feeling just as justified. It was a look she'd seen over and over. They both needed a break. A time out. Sun-up would be soon enough to figure out where she goes from there. "Two," she said decisively.

Once again, Woody of caught off guard. He smiled warily. "Two, what?"

Jordan cupped her hands around her bowl and lifted it to her mouth. She slurped the last of the milk in the bottom of the bowl and wiped her hand across her mouth. "Two bowls. Each."

It was the first time Woody saw her really eat in two days. He had to laugh. "Thirds?"

He didn't wait for her to answer and poured a shallow bowl. He topped it with a splash of milk and on a whim he sprinkled a little sugar on top. For the first time, in a very long time, Jordan genuinely smiled. It light up her face. Woody shifted in his seat at the sight and poured himself another bowl.

Maybe it was more due to her lack of sleep rather than the emotional timeout she decided to give herself...Jordan began to notice some things. Inane little things about her surroundings, from the old toy robots littering the room to the way Woody held the spoon in his hand. Minutes passed and Santos, Brandy...even JD began to become almost surreal. Surreal enough to not send her on the verge of a panic attack just thinking about them.

"I once told Lily that my favorite color was purple..." Jordan said looking at the flowers on the counter again. "She didn't forget."

Woody looked over his shoulder at the pastel colored flowers on the counter. By the expression on her face Woody could tell there was more to that story than just an oh-by-the-way factoid. Some day he'd ask her about it. Purple. Just like Lily, he filed that tidbit of information away.

"She loves you very much, you know."

Jordan gently pushed her bowl away. "I haven't always been very lovable," she said thinking about the ring of truth the words they hurled at each other in that hotel room had.

Woody's first instinct was to argue the point. It didn't take The Amazing Kreskin for him to know what she was thinking about. That night was like a flashing light that hovered over them. The logical thing would be to talk it out. What happened was ugly. Ugly, but it kept his body tight ever since. Woody looked away and shrugged. "Everyone has their moments Jordan. God knows, I've had more than my share. Human nature builds in a grading curve that makes us ...lovable... even through our faults."

"Did you learn that in Sociology 101 between your Fruity Pebbles and Bud at community college?" Jordan quipped.

"Actually, it was Cocoa Pebbles and Old Milwaukee. No, I picked it up in the school of hard knocks...even if I'm a slow study."

Jordan grinned. He neglected to add that that school's head mistress was the very woman sitting across the table from him.

Their years together have had more then its share of challenges. Challenges that should have made them both bee-lining in the opposite direction just to avoid running into each other. Yet, there they sat...in his kitchen, eating Cheerios, talking about silly little things like chocolate cake and fruit loops...

...and making her feel like she could be loved...no matter what.

"Call her, Jordan."

Jordan rolled her lips awkwardly. She needed to talk to Lily. She deserved at least that much. If anything, Jordan could try to apologize for the way she's treated her. The way she's treated them all. She couldn't take back the mistakes she's made. It was probably way too late for some of her relationships, but maybe she could do enough smooth this one over.

"I will"

Jordan only wished that the rosy optimism that came from a belly full of dairy and verbal distraction had carried over in the harsh light of morning. Her "emotional time out" felt painfully over. She brushed her hand awkwardly over the waist of her top. Somewhere between playing rock, paper, scissors over the dirty dishes at three in the morning and explaining... to Woody's deaf ears, that his tie didn't match his shirt as he was running out the door at seven, she had decided that it would easier to talk to Lily face to face. If not easier, maybe it would give her more closure. Now, she wasn't feeling so sure. But it was too late. Emmy was buzzing just outside the elevator doors.

"Dr. C!"

Lily tried to read the file in front of her, but the words just ran together on the page.

It was her job to counsel. To help other deal with grief and the stresses of the life changes that death of a loved one brings. It didn't take hours of formal training for Lily to know that death came in many forms. And what her best girlfriend was dealing with was more than just the death of an old friend.

Lily put her hand to her mouth thinking about that morning. It seemed like years ago when in fact it was only weeks. So many things have changed. No one was left untouched. There were wounds that would leave scars and there were wounds were new growth would take place. It was only a matter of time to see if some would turn cancerous.

She reached for her phone for the second time that morning. Her first call was picked up by Woody's machine. If Jordan was there, she wasn't answering.

Still, Lily had to try. She'd never give up on Jordan. She couldn't.

Lily barely had the number punched in when there was a knock on the door. She reluctantly hung up and stood up half expecting her next appointment to be early. She was surprised to see Jordan opening the door.

"I hope I'm not intruding," Jordan said peeking her head inside.

"Not at all," Lily said softly rounding her desk. "Please. Please, come in..." Lily didn't stop until Jordan was in her arms. She hugged her tightly even though Jordan's back was still perfectly straight.