Chapter Ten
Morning Sickness
The bouts of nausea were happening more frequently than Woody liked. He'd wake up sick to his stomach and spend most of the morning heaving into the porcelain pony…both at his apartment and at work.
Matt Seely was beginning to joke about morning sickness.
Woody didn't think it was very funny.
First because this was the sickest he had been since the surgery. At the beginning he thought it was food poisoning, but Seely had eaten the same sandwich from the same deli the day before Woody's insides rebelled and Matt was fine. "It's the flu," the red-headed detective told Woody.
"I've had the shot," Woody countered.
"Don't mean a lot this winter," Seely retorted, nodding toward the window. And it didn't. While Woody had wrestled with his memory issues, the late summer and fall morphed into the most hellacious winter Boston had seen in years. The snow this year had broken long-standing records….and the nastiness of the flu season had broken a few of its own. The hospitals were full of the illness and there had been at least six deaths directly attributed to it so far.
"It's not the flu. I don't feel that bad."
"Whatever. Just…if you're running a fever and hurling, for God's sake stay home, Hoyt. I don't want the damn stuff."
Woody nodded and shrugged off the second reason he resented Matt's comment about his nausea being morning sickness: Even if he could get pregnant, he hadn't been getting any…
Not because the opportunity wasn't there. Lu had made it plain she was more than willing to revisit their relationship and she didn't care whether he had his memory back or not. She and her bed were warm and willing.
Santana had indicated the same. And between the cool blonde and the fiery Latino, Woody imagined the second option would be a lot more interesting than the first.
Either that or he just had a thing for brunettes.
Specifically, long-legged brunettes with whiskey-colored eyes that once told him that she loved him…Jordan.
Woody sighed at that memory – the night he had gone to her house at Beacon Hill. They hadn't had much contact since then, other than work-related issues. She had given him the space he asked for and he greedily took it….trying hard to remember their past…anything that would prompt him to recall what they had so he could go to her and…
And do what? According to Jordan, once he remembered their past, he'd go back to being angry at her.
He wasn't sure. But another round of nausea hit him and he ran down the precinct hall to the bathroom, making it just in time. He rinsed out the basin and then washed his own face, looking in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes told him that his sleep had been restless…and there was a headache niggling between his temples. Maybe Matt was right….maybe he was getting the flu.
Or maybe some sort of infection had set in his back where he had the surgery. These symptoms weren't side effects of the initial spinal injury, but maybe, despite the fact the doctor said he had healed fine, there was something there. Woody patted his face dry and decided a phone call to his surgeon might be in order.
Jordan pulled the curtain back and stared out of the window of her Beacon Hill home. The Beatles were on the radio again...
Can't buy me love, everybody tells me so
Can't buy me love, no, no, no, no…
She smiled wryly to herself. Her money couldn't buy her love or good weather. There was at least six feet of snow on the ground and the wind was blowing it into drifts that were ten feet high or better. Garret had called her earlier and told her to stay put in her warm and toasty home today until the street plows got to her section of town. Then he expected her in. Things were kind of slow anyway…most folks with any sense were staying home.
Say you don't need no diamond ring and I'll be satisfied
Tell me that you want the kind of thing that money just can't buy
I don't care too much for money, money can't buy me love
Money couldn't buy her heat, either, she noted. The power had gone off last night and her house was now dark, lonely and cold, as she had sent Harris and Millie home well before the roads had gotten too bad. Jordan had discovered some wood in the storage area of the basement and brought several armfuls upstairs. She was staying in the front room that had a fireplace so she could be warm. Thankfully, one of the couches had a hide-away bed. She would at least be comfortable until the lights came back on.
Can't buy me love, everybody tells me so
Can't buy me love, no, no, no, no…
She reached out and flicked the battery-powered radio off, flooding the rooms with quiet. It had been on for her to try to find another weather forecast…to see if there was a break in the snow anywhere in the near future.
But the weather predictions had been the same. The Blizzard of 2006 would go down in history as the perfect storm…lots of snow and little relief no time in the near future. Jordan sighed. The silence was oppressive, but she needed to save her batteries.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Matt asked Woody later that same afternoon. "You're awfully pale, Hoyt."
"I'll be fine…it's just a headache and my stomach's still ballistic. I know you don't think those deli sandwiches the other day were bad, but I'm not so sure…"
"I still think it's the flu."
"It's not the flu. No temperature."
"Some people don't always run a temperature when they're sick."
Woody rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, well….maybe I do."
Matt snorted. "Look, I've gotta head over to the morgue, or at least try to, to look over an autopsy. You wanna come or hang out here and fill out reports?"
Woody's stomach lurched again…not so much from the possibilities of seeing a gruesome autopsy, but from seeing her. He still wasn't ready for that. "If you don't mind, I think I'll stay here."
"Suit yourself….but try to get to feeling better, okay, partner?"
Woody nodded and began to thumb his way through the reports before his stomach and head began their uneasy tap dance again. Willing his stomach to at least remain calm, he made his way over to the couch to stretch out. He had been on duty twelve hours already and had no desire to try to brave the streets in this blizzard to make it home. No one would say anything to him if he were to lie down for a minute and see if he couldn't get to feeling better. Using his jacket as a pillow, he stretched out, one arm thrown across his eyes and soon he dozed off into a fitful sleep.
And began dream…sort of.
It was more like a slideshow….pictures of his past….the fragments and pieces he had remembered so far kept playing across the screen in his head…taunting him. His memory was just out of his reach….he'd try to recall a person, an event…and they'd melt away.
Woody shut his eyes tighter and pushed the fragments away. Soon he was fast asleep.
Jordan shivered and put some more wood on the fire. It was a humdinger of a storm that was sure, but it wasn't the snow that was getting to her.
It was the loneliness.
It was too quiet in that big house. Millie had once joked the house was made for parties and children, with its huge bedrooms and recreational facilities. Jordan had snorted and told Millie not to hold her breath for either one. With her work schedules, her partying was restricted to mostly a few beers out with Nigel or Bug. And with her track record as far as relationships go…well, if Millie wanted something to take care of other than Jordan, the ME would have to see about getting a puppy or kitten.
At least in her apartment building there were neighbors to be snowed in with. There was always a quick poker game to pick up or something.
Here it was just her. She sighed and turned away from her vigil at the window. It was only a little past six, but it was already getting dark. Maybe she could read a little by the light of the fire….and turn in early. Get caught up on all the sleep she always complained about she lost.
She pulled a book out she had been reading earlier and curled up by the fire, trying in vain to concentrate on the paragraph in front of her. Jordan had just begun to read the same paragraph for the third time when a knock at the door interrupted her.
Woody woke with a start, his office dark and still. Where is Seely? He wondered, looking at his watch. Matt had been gone for a couple of hours. Maybe he had come in and when he saw Woody napping, turned around and left so he wouldn't be disturbed.
Nah, Seely is not that considerate…unless you are Lily, and that was before Brandeau entered the picture…Woody chuckled at the love triangle that was apparent to everyone but Lily…
And then gasped.
His memory was back.
