Sparring Partners (28 page)

Jordon glanced at Jesse and knew something
was really wrong. Was it possible that they were all pissed at him
for leaving unexpectedly and forgetting to call until it was too
late, given the time change in Paris? Hell, he hadn't slept more
than four hours, and that was on the plane. Jordon stood quickly,
jarring the bench with Charlie and Jesse on it in the process.

"Where's Reed?

Finn put a hand on his and looked at him
with tired, concerned eyes. "Reed's in her room, asleep. She was up
most of the night worried about you."

Jordon started to pull away from Finn but
she held tight, and the look in her eyes told him there was more
than a gentle scolding going on.

"Reed's fine, just exhausted. She fell
asleep about two hours ago. She doesn't even know yet."

"Know what? So help me Finn, you're not too
old to spank."

Finn just gave a small sad smile which made
Jordon worry even more. She pulled her hand away and pushed a legal
sized manila envelope across the table to him. Jordon didn't move
to open it, he just looked at it like it was a coiled snake ready
to strike. In his experience, manila never contained anything
good.

Henry, who knew he had little tolerance for
being in the dark, quickly jumped in. "Irma contacted her attorney
yesterday just after you left. He came to see her, spent an hour,
and these were couriered over two hours later."

Henry simply restated facts. There was no
inflection in his tone, although Jordon watched as he grabbed
Finn's hand and placed it in his lap before continuing his report.
The gesture seemed unconscious, but it spoke volumes to Jordon.

"Irma left instructions with me that you
were to receive that envelope as soon as you returned." Henry
paused, glanced at Finn, and then skewered Jordon with his gaze,
telling him more with his expression than his words. The hair on
Jordon's neck stood on end.

"Then she told me to take her to the
hospital. I did. Her doctor checked her in, told me she was stable
and I was not to be concerned. He said this kind of thing was bound
to happen with how progressed her disease is, and I would probably
be taking her home this morning after they ran some tests and
pumped her full of fluids."

Jordon's hand fisted on top of the envelope
and a slow tidal wave began rushing in his ears.

"We got the call an hour ago. She's slipped
into a coma."

...

Jordon made it all the way to the pier
before the tidal wave in his ears and the pounding in his chest
made his legs collapse. Thankfully, he made it to the bench before
he fell down. It squeaked under his weight and he scraped the back
of his calf, on one cast iron leg as he became one with the
bench.

The envelope wasn't sealed, merely held
closed by two metal tabs. His fingers shook, and one of the tabs
sliced open the pad of his thumb. He wouldn't have noticed except
for the creepy reddish brown mark his blood left on the
formaldehyde laced yellowed paper. Not a good sign.

He brought his thumb to his lips, sucking
away the blood with brutal efficiency. He didn't want to stain the
white sheets inside. Satisfied that he'd stemmed the bleeding for
now, Jordon pulled out a packet of documents he recognized
immediately. He'd filled in similar forms before his last trip to
Japan.

The first was Irma's 'Health Care Power of
Attorney', naming him attorney in fact, or in plain English, her
plug puller. The second document was a 'Durable Power of Attorney',
giving Jordon power over everything the 'Health Care Power of
Attorney' didn't cover, including Irma's finances and everything
she owned; from her house to her safety deposit box.

Jordon stopped reading after that, stuffing
the remaining documents, as well as the POA papers, back in the
blood stained envelope.

When he closed the metal tabs, locking the
papers inside, his hands were steady and strong.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Jordon showered in Henry's bathroom, he
didn't want to risk a chance of waking Reed by using theirs. He
brushed his teeth and quickly ran his hands through his ever
lengthening hair. He really needed to get it trimmed, but since he
stopped working at B.H., he hadn't been able to find the time.
Jordon didn't bother shaving, why bother when he'd only have to do
it again tonight before he headed toward the cottage, lest his
mother think he'd become a Bohemian.

Jordon began to push these random and
seemingly inconsequential thoughts aside until he realized concerns
over his mother's reaction to his rough stubble was his
subconscious way of focusing on the trivial, so the complications
of Irma's coma wouldn't crush him with their weight. Jordon laughed
at himself. It wasn't a good sound, especially to his ears. The
folly of understanding yourself one second, and having
no-fucking-clue the next, struck him as funny and inextricably
sad.

Jordon dressed in jeans and one of the
bamboo t-shirts Reed insisted he wear. That is, when she was
talking to him and of the mindset to bring him gifts. It was
conservative by Reed's standards, frog green, but no frogs or peace
signs.

That reminded him of the stuff he bought in
Paris, which he packed away in Henry's closet. It didn't feel right
handing out gifts now, especially ones that may be misconstrued as
having been given only to avoid embarrassing Jordon's family.

"Not the best way to start the day."

"I've had better, myself." Henry said from
the doorway.

"I didn't hear you." That wasn't all that
unusual. Henry had a way of turning silent and invisible when he
wanted to. "How long have you been holding up the door?"

"Long enough to see self-hatred flash across
your face. That laugh sounded like it hurt."

"It did."

"So, how was Paris?"

That was Henry's way of telling him he had
eyes on him at all times. "Fine."

"You shouldn't be carrying around a quarter
of a million dollars in diamonds without an escort."

"Give it up, Henry. You know that's exactly
how it should be carried, unless it's sent in a plain cardboard box
through the mail. I didn't have time to mail it. So what's the
deal? You've got spies in Cartier now too?"

Henry didn't respond. Instead, he uncrossed
his arms and pushed away from the door. He pulled out the desk
chair across from Jordon and sat with a fluid grace. He put his
elbows on his knees and leaned in toward Jordon.

"You seem to be taking this whole thing with
Irma pretty hard."

Jordon shrugged. He really didn't want to
talk about this. He'd rather think about beard stubble.

"You haven't known her all that long."

Jordon stopped tying his shoe and glared at
Henry. If Henry continued to explore this subject any further,
Jordon was just tired and saddened enough to clock him.

"Is there more to it than that?"

"Irma's my friend, Henry. Let's leave it at
that." Jordon said, surprising himself with the truth of his
statement. Irma had become his friend in this very short time.
Something no one other than Henry had managed to do in fifteen
years. He cared about her more than he wanted to admit.

Jordon wasn't quite sure what that said
about him, but the sharp clenching in his chest as he surveyed the
room and the grounds from Henry's window said volumes about Potters
Woods. For better or worse, this place, these people, were under
his skin. It didn't make him itch any more. In fact, he was
beginning to like it, and that scared the hell out of him.

"It's that and more. You know it. I know
it." Henry said getting up. "You want me to come to the hospital
with you?"

"No. I'd like to go alone."

Henry nodded and started to leave. Jordon
stopped him at the door.

"Henry, would you tell Reed when she wakes
up that I'm sorry for not calling?"

Henry's eyebrows shot up. "Want me to tell
her anything else?"

"Yeah." Jordon said standing. "Tell her I'll
be home in time to take everyone to the cottage."

...

Jordon expected to see Irma in her hospital
room. What he didn't expect to see was Shannon O'Shay sitting
beside her, reading out loud from one of the Dali Lama's many
books. He heard the rich tones of Shay's baritone effusing the
words with such a sense of peace and wellbeing that Jordon could be
forgiven for thinking the rough man a spiritual leader.

Shay must have sensed he was being watched
because he suddenly looked up, piercing Jordon with his gaze, as he
finished his sentence without looking at the words. Apparently
there was more to Shannon O'Shay than mere
bad-ass-fighting-machine. How much more, that was a question Jordon
was curious to find out.

"How is she? Any change?" Jordon asked.

"I don't know. They won't tell me anything
other than she's resting comfortably. Doc says he'll only talk to
family and Irma doesn't have any family as far as I know."

Jordon thought about that for a second and
something inside of him snapped. He didn't understand why Irma
chose him as power of attorney when she had Finn, Reed, and
apparently Shannon O'Shay who knew her better and longer than he
did. How sad she had no blood family anyone could trace. He didn't
want to wind up lying in a hospital bed unconscious while someone
he barely knew decided whether or not to pull the plug.

"They didn't tell you anything?"

"Not one damned thing other than they
couldn't tell me one damned thing. It seems the only ones who get
to know her condition have M.D. after their names, and they don't
really seem to care that she has people who aren't related that
care about her." Shay didn't raise his voice or change his tone,
but the menace emanating from him was enough to tell Jordon how
angry he was at being denied information.

Jordon glanced at Irma but he didn't enter
the room. She looked so small and fragile, covered up to her neck
in white hospital blankets. He could barely discern her form under
them. Hardly the formidable woman who scared fish and grown men
with equanimity.

He wanted
that
woman back, barking
orders and telling him how to fix his messed up life.

"I'll be right back." Jordon turned and
headed for the nearest nurses station. There were three nurses
conversing about one of their dates last night and the crappy
Chinese food. None of them acknowledged him.

"Excuse me."

They continued to ignore him.

He touched the closest one on the arm,
drawing her attention. As soon as he had it he let go. "Ma'am, if
you don't get Mrs. MacDonald's chart for me now, and I mean right
now, you'll be calling the police as well as the doctor."

The other two stopped talking about chow
mein. One of them picked up the phone to call security. Jordon's
gaze shot ice at her. "Finish that call and I guarantee this
hospital will be flooded with a team of lawyers within the hour
finding all kinds of reasons to shut you down."

Jordon felt, more than heard, someone behind
him. The stupid man stood within striking distance, and Jordon was
in a striking state of mind.

"May I help you?" The man asked, managing to
sound condescending and officious at the same time.

Jordon slowly turned, keeping one eye on the
nurse with the phone. She must have gotten some kind of signal from
the man behind him because she put the receiver back in its cradle.
Jordon sneered at her, hoping he looked as nasty as he felt.
Hospitals made him sick. Unfeeling hospital staff made him
postal.

Jordon pulled out a copy of the 'Durable
Power of Attorney' as well as the 'Power of Attorney for Health
Care' and handed them to the small man in white. Glasses,
stethoscope, golf shirt and over priced tennis shoes. He wore his
power like a he wore his uniform, badly.

"I assume you have some form of I.D., Mr.
Bennett?"

Jordon pulled his wallet out of his back
pocket and handed the arrogant bastard his driver's license. Jordon
looked at the name embroidered in black script above the man's left
pocket.
Dr. J. Minorik
.

The doctor handed Jordon's license back. He
had a small, officiously polite smile on his face when he said,
"You do seem to be Jordon Bennett --" he paused, and his slimy
smile grew ever so slightly "– However, it will take some time to
verify Mrs. MacDonald's signature."

Jordon smiled back and took out his cell
phone, flipping it open in one graceful move.

"You can't use that in here." The doctor
said, losing the smile.

Jordon's smile widened as he held up one
hand to the doctor and hit speed dial. "This will only take a
second." His smile turned to a full grin when his call was picked
up on the second ring.

"Hey Anderson, it's Jordon. Do you think you
could get a full crew here? I've got a great story for you. I'll
even do that interview you've been hounding me for."

Jordon listened, nodded a few times.

"Milwaukee. Just south of there actually. A
small town called Burlington. Whole place smells like chocolate,
except the hospital. It reeks of old Pine-Sol, and well, you might
want to investigate that too. Yeah...I'll fill you in on the
rest."

Jordon looked at his watch. "See you in two.
Thanks, Coop."

Jordon clicked off. "CNN will be here in a
couple of hours, Minorik. I'll make sure they spell your name
correctly."

Jordon shoved the phone into his pocket and
turned to go back to Irma's room. He was lucky he found Anderson in
the states. Perhaps he'd invite him to the cottage for dinner.
Maybe even score a few points with Reed. Jordon found himself
whistling back to the room.

"So, did you have to call out the infantry,
or did that asshole tell you what's going on with Irma?"