Chapter Eight

Be Careful What You Wish For

Jordan couldn't begin to describe how proud she was of Woody. Just like when he had been injured by Riggs and met the physical obstacles of his paralysis head on, he did the same with his amnesia.

Occasionally his temper still flared, but those times were getting fewer and further between. Woody was more comfortable with himself now. He understood that his memory would probably return gradually and had adjusted his attitude to that. He was happy when flashbacks would occur, even though there weren't many of them, and spark him to remember a place, a time, or an event. But he had also accepted the fact that the full memory of his past might never return and he would be left to ask people questions…getting their take on the chronicle of his life instead of his own.

With the last back surgery deemed a full success, he had returned to work full time. At first he worked desk duty and then light cases. Eventually, he and Matt were back out in the field together full time. And while his memory may have dimmed, his skills as a detective were as sharp as ever. He was still a shark in the interrogation room.

He was healthy, independent, and doing well. He no longer needed Jordan to stay with him at his apartment. The doctors had told him he was fine to live by himself.

She accepted the news stoically, but couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. She knew she had enjoyed staying with him…but didn't realize how much until Dr. Roland released her from her duties. She and Woody had drove back to his apartment in silence and Woody watched quietly from the bedroom as she gathered her few things in the bathroom and tossed them in her bag. "I'll miss you," he said suddenly, pulling her out of solitary thoughts.

"I'll miss you, too," she softly replied, "but I'm as close as the phone…if you feel overwhelmed or angry….or just need me to talk to, hit two on speed dial on either your cell or apartment phone and I'll be here."

He nodded, continuing to watch her pack. "I just hope I can do this, Jordan." There it was again…his vulnerability and his fear.

"You can." She put all her faith in him behind those two words.

"But what if I never remember…what if…"

"The doctors have said your memory will all probably come back in time…they're just not sure when."

"I know." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand while she zipped her bag. "But hell, they're not even sure what caused it….why should I believe that it will ever come back?"

Jordan picked her bag up off the bed and extended her hand to him. "Come here…walk me to the door."

Reluctantly, he let her pull him to his feet and he took the bag out of her hand, but followed her to the door. She put one hand on the knob to turn it and walk out of his life one more time, but her heart just wouldn't let her leave without saying what was on her mind. Turning back to face him, she put a hand on each arm and looked up into his blue eyes. "I hate to say this, but so what if the memories don't come back, Woods? Look at yourself. You've overcome medical setback after medical setback…and even with this amnesia, you're still doing fine…you're functioning, working, and doing well. For someone to be able to cope with all you've been handed, you're one hell of a man, Woody Hoyt. And that's nothing to be ashamed of. You've accomplished a lot and I can't begin to tell you how proud I am of you. So be proud of yourself…and relax. Everything will be okay. You'll be fine." Jordan felt her throat tighten when she saw a flicker of something in his eyes.

"Thanks, Jordan…but I don't know…."

She felt the tears coming long before they made their way behind her eyelids. He didn't need to see her cry.

And she didn't want to let him to see her cry. "Look, I gotta go…I have an early day tomorrow." She took her bag from him and did turn the knob this time to let herself out.

"Jordan…."

"If you need me, call me… I mean it….Bye…"

"Jordan." His voice carried some of the old forcefulness. He shut the door and turned her back to him. "I have interrupted your life for six weeks now. I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me…I'll never be able to repay you…I just…just…" He pulled her to him and gently kissed her forehead. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." The tears were there. She needed to leave and leave quickly. "Call me…" She was out the door this time.

"I will…." His voice followed her down the hall along with her own morose thoughts.

So what if your memory doesn't come back…so what, so what, so what…

Jordan bit her lip. She had meant what she said. Woody had done well with himself…far better than she would have done if she found herself in his position. But there was another part of her, a very selfish part, that wished she could have the "old" Woody back.

Not that this history-less Woody didn't have his pluses. He couldn't remember their stormy past, so this Woody didn't carry the issues with him that the "old" Woody did. This Woody was more like the Farm Boy she knew and cherished. His sweet attitude and caring disposition reminded Jordan so much of when she first met him, that her heart ached.

But the woman in her wished he could remember what they felt when they made love.

Sighing, she slid into the front seat of her El Camino, heading back to her house in Beacon Hill. Her head was throbbing as that tiny voice in the back of her head reminded her to be careful what she wished for.


"Where have you been keeping yourself?" Jordan turned at the sound of the voice.

"I've told you…I've been busy…working and caring for a friend that has been ill," she replied, accepting Neil's light kiss on her cheek. Neil had been phoning and e-mailing her the entire time she had been with Woody. She had put him off, telling him that a close friend, a friend without family, had been sick and she was caring for him. "As soon as he's better, I'll give you a call," she had promised.

And with Woody now on his own and their relationship relegated to something between a friendship and work-related relationship, Jordan had reluctantly admitted that any sparks between them were permanently extinguished. Gamely, remembering what Lily had told her months ago, she had picked up her phone and called Neil. He had agreed to meet her for dinner the next day at a small Italian place not far from the morgue.

"I've missed you," he said softly, reaching across the table and taking her hand.

"I've missed you, too," Jordan answered, hoping in her heart there were at least some shades of truth behind that statement.

"Good." Neil smiled. He didn't have dimples, but he did have one of those GQ-ish smiles that made a woman go slightly weak in the knees. He picked up his menu. "So…since you've obviously eaten here before, what's good?"

"Any of the pasta dishes are wonderful."

Jordan inwardly sighed as Neil made his decision. Neil had been patient with her while she was staying with Woody…Neil had called everyday and been more considerate than Jordan felt she deserved. But he's not Woody…

Neil wasn't. Neil was Neil and Jordan told herself to be glad that there was a man in her life who seemed to care for her and miss her when she wasn't around.

I wonder if Woody misses me…

The waiter took their order and Neil sat back and rehashed the Brown real estate deal to her…Jordan tried to stay interested, but her thoughts were everywhere but in the restaurant. Does Woody think about me…does he wish I was still at his apartment?

I wish I was…

"Be careful what you wish for…" The little voice was back and Jordan knew it was right. Vainly, popping a mental Ritalin, she focused back in on Neil. And was mildly successful the rest of the meal, surprising the hell out of herself. Finally, last bite of strawberry cheesecake eaten, she waited outside the restaurant while he paid their bill.

"Hi…" a familiar voice called to her. Woody.

"Hi yourself," she replied, finding herself smiling at him despite of everything. It had been a couple of weeks since she had seen him, and the expression on his face plainly told her that he was glad to see her again.

"Are you going in to eat?" he asked.

"No…just finished. I'm heading home."

"Darn…thought we at least might catch dinner together since you haven't caught any of my cases…"

Jordan felt her lips turn up a little more at the corners. "Sorry…"

"There you are," Neil said coming out of the restaurant. "Wondered where you had gotten to…oh, hello…" His voice trailed off when he saw Woody.

"Needed some air, so I stepped outside to wait on you," Jordan murmured. "Neil, this is Woody Hoyt…he's a homicide detective with the Boston PD. We work together…Woody, this is Neil…a …a friend of mine."

"Nice to meet you," Neil said, extending his hand for Woody to shake.

"Likewise…" Woody responding, shaking the outstretched hand.

Pleasantries exchanged, the inevitable awkward moment descended. "Well…look I need to get my take-out order and head back to work," Woody said, deciding that he needed to take the initiative to put Jordan out of her obvious discomfort.

"You're working this late?" Concern laced her voice.

"I'm fine…see you tomorrow, Jordan." Woody headed into the restaurant.

"I need to go, too," Neil rejoined. "I have to go back to work, too. Tying up the final loose ends of the Brown deal. I'll call you tomorrow, Jo." He lightly brushed her lips with his, letting them linger just a moment longer than Jordan liked. Then gently he released her and after a small wave, Neil found his car and drove away in the night.

Leaving Jordan to pause for a moment on the sidewalk at the realization that once again, she would be going back to her Beacon Hill estate all alone.

And completely unaware that Woody had seen the entire kiss from the restaurant window.