Chapter 34
"Brady, you said you were going to talk to your father,"" Chloe said, as she watched Brady in the
mirror brushing his teeth.
"I will," he told her, after he spat and rinsed his mouth.
"It's been weeks, and he's leaving tomorrow. When do you plan on talking to him?"
"I'll go tomorrow. I promise." He took off his shirt and sank into bed. He pulled Chloe towards
him and kissed her cheek.
"You may be charming, Brady, but I'm not buying it this time." Chloe took the book she had been
trying to read and put it down on the nightstand and turned to face him. "Tomorrow is the only
time for who knows how long that you'll be able to confront him face to face. Don't let this
opportunity get away from you just because he got the better of you the last time. I want you to
have a serious talk with him."
"I just promised I would, didn't I?" Brady gave her his best alter boy smile, and she couldn't help
grinning in response.
"Goodnight, Slick!" Chloe laughed and curled herself in his arms.
"Goodnight, Diva," he laughed, kissing Chloe again. "Goodnight, Diva Junior," he said, twisting
to kiss Chloe's covered stomach.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Brady lay there in bed with Chloe. He stared up at the dark ceiling and imagined all the things he
would want to say to his father, but none of it seemed right. He just couldn't put into worlds what
his heart wanted to express. Finally sick of analyzing the possible ways the meeting could go,
Brady eased himself out of bed. Putting a pillow in Chloe's arms to replace his warm body, he
left the room.
He found himself in the room they had made for their child. It still was not painted. It seemed
every time they started to make progress, something pulled them away from it. Picking up the
roller, he began to paint the wall light yellow with even W-like patterns to cover the entire
expanse. About an hour into it, two walls finished and some paint mishap with his skin, the room
was starting to look pretty good.
"I thought I'd find you in here. Did you get any sleep?" Chloe said nonchalantly, standing at the
doorway with a blanket wrapped around her entire body.
"I got some. Not much though," he lied. "Go back to bed," he whispered softly.
"I want to watch," she yawned, easing her way into the rocking chair.
"You wanna watch?" he mocked, not believing her. "You'd rather watch me paint than sleep in
that big, warm, comfy bed?"
"Uh huh!"
"Why?"
"Because you keep me warmer when you're in that bed, and watching you flex those muscles is
so worth the lack of sleep," she teased.
"Oh, these muscles?" he laughed, flexing.
"Those would be the ones. And did I mention that ass?"
"I do have a great ass, don't I?" he laughed, resuming painting.
"Oh, and that paint goes so nicely with your skin," Chloe laughed, looking at the splotches of
paint that covered one of his arms and a bit of his stomach.
Brady looked at himself and laughed. "You know, I hadn't even really noticed, but you're right. I
look damn sexy. I'm turning you on, aren't I?"
"Always." She smiled and continued to study him. "Are you worried?" Chloe ventured, watching
as he physically tensed.
"A little. I just don't know if he'll hear me out. I don't even know what to say."
"It'll come to you," she soothed, standing. "Coming to bed?"
"In a little while. I want to finish this first." He smiled at her and then went back to painting.
"Don't stay up too late." Chloe left the room and went back to bed, feeling very tired. She hurt for
Brady because she knew what a task tomorrow would be. Baring your soul to a man who
practically forgot you were alive for most of your life could not have been the easiest of things to
do.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Go to him, Brady. Talk to him. Tell him how you feel," Chloe urged, still in her bathrobe.
"I'm not sure I can. What if he won't listen?" Brady asked, while doing up the last button of his
shirt.
"Then you make him listen, and I don't mean with your fists. I mean with your heart." She
smoothed down his shirt and accentuated her point by placing her hand on his chest over his
heart. "Here. He's staying at this hotel. Do you know where that is?"
"I'll find it," he told her softly.
"Take this," Chloe told him and stuck a picture of Brady, John and Isabella into Brady's pocket of
his leather jacket.
Brady pulled out the photo and stared at it. "Where did you get this?"
Chloe smiled and hugged him to her. "You have a lot of people that care about you. Your sister is
one of them."
"Belle?"
"She sent it to me. Ask your father about it." Brady gave her an apprehensive look. "You'll be
fine. Now, go." She ushered him out the door and slapped his butt.
Brady turned and smiled. "You really are at the horny stage!" he laughed and took off before she
could rebuke him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Brady knocked on the door and tried to control the shaking in his hands.
John came to the door, shocked when he found Brady behind it. "Brady? What are you doing
here?"
"I came to talk," he said, clearing his throat and smoothing his hair self-consciously. He really
hadn't had a chance to sleep the night before. He kept finding things to do around the house, and
now his eyes were swollen, and he looked just as tired as he felt.
"Then come on in. You look like shit by the way," John said over his shoulder, walking further
into the room.
Brady tried to control the rage that began with his father''s words to him. He pushed away all his
anger. He was going to tell his father how he felt, even if it gave him an ulcer doing so. He
needed to do this, for himself, for Chloe and for the baby. It wasn't good for him to be so angry
all the time, and he was finally at a point in his life where he was sick of being so mad, so
impulsive. "Thanks," Brady replied, gritting his jaw together. "I really appreciated your help the
other night. It really means a lot to me that you would get the charges dropped so fast."
John scoffed. "Let's be honest, Brady. This isn't the first time something like this has happened."
"No. No, it isn't, but it's been a while." Brady cleared his throat. "Chloe wanted to thank you too."
"No problem. About her being pregnant..." John began.
"What about it?" Brady interrupted.
"Are you sure it's yours?" He poured himself a drink and swirled the dark liquid around the
crystal glass.
"Father, you're talking about the woman I love, and what you just insinuated with that comment
would normally be grounds for a good ass kicking. But since I know that Chloe would kill me
and the fact that I have more respect for myself than to stoop that low, I will let it slip. But if you
EVER insult her again, or my child, I'm not sure I could control myself. That's just a warning."
John studied Brady, saw how serious he was and knew he could not bait him into a petty
argument, not today. "I apologize. I was out of line. I can see how much the girl...Chloe, how
much Chloe means to you. Now, what are you here for? Do you wish to take me up on my offer
and come work for Basic Black?"
"No. I'm here for much more personal reasons. Here." Brady presented his father with the picture
Chloe had given him earlier. He was trying his best not to be annoyed at the formal way his
father was speaking. He wasn't a business partner. He was his son, for Christ sake.
John set down his glass and took the picture. "I remember the day this was taken. It was...it was
towards the end." His voice softened, and he looked up at Brady for a moment and then glanced
back down at the picture. "Your mother……she looked beautiful. She always was so beautiful,"
John said, smiling wistfully. "She wanted to take you to the park before she was too weak to go
anywhere. We packed a picnic with all her favourites, and she was so happy. It was like she
knew." John held the picture up and studied it as he made his way to the couch and sat down.
"Knew what?" Brady asked, breaking the silence. He could feel his breathing accelerate. It was
the first time his father had ever spoken to him of his mother, and he was completely at his
mercy, eagerly wanting to hear.
"She died the very next day. She insisted on having this picture taken. She told me..." John
choked. "She told me that one day you and I would be sitting around talking about this day. 'Tell
Brady', she said, 'tell him how happy we were. Tell him how much I loved him. Tell him there
were chicken salad sandwiches and ice cold lemonade. Tell him about how ripe the strawberries
were.'" John stopped, feeling the clenching of his throat and the tears that threatened to fall.
"Your mother always had great insight, and she was a stickler for details," he told Brady as he
stood once again and wiped his eyes with an expensive silken handkerchief.
Brady felt the lump in his own throat as he began to speak. "I wish I had known her."
John nodded and opened the balcony, stepped outside and took in some deep breaths. "I know
I've failed you, Brady," John said matter-of-factly as he came back inside the room. "I know your
mother would never forgive me for the things I've done to you."
"Did you hate me that much? Was I that hard to love?" Brady asked, startling himself with his
own questions.
"You made it impossible to love you," John told him softly and then lookedup and smiled at his
only son. "You were so much like her. You ARE so much like her. I couldn't deal with that.
Don't you see I always wanted the best for you? I kept you at a distance because I had to. I was
afraid, son. Afraid if I got to know you, I would love you even more, and I couldn't risk it. I
couldn't risk making you the center of my world, because I couldn't risk losing you. Don't you see
what that would have done to me? After...after I lost your mother, I didn't even want to live. Not
many people know this----I'm not proud, but after...when the pain wouldn't stop, I wanted to
end it. I tried, but I was too weak. I couldn't do it, and then when I met Marlena, she let me
forget, and then I grew to love her. But I always loved you, son. I just couldn't show you."
"Dad..." Brady's voice came out tiny and afraid, so very much like the child he had been. The
little boy that had reached for his father so many times only to be denied and rejected again and
again. However, this time John needed Brady just the same. Shocked by his father's admission
and even more shocked by his reaction to it, Brady tentatively stepped closer.
When Brady found John''s arms around himself, he let the tears he had so valiantly been holding
slide down his cheeks. There were tears from years and years back. It all seemed so silly, like it
could have all been avoided, but maybe the barrier was there for a reason. They both needed it to
pretend they weren't hurting so badly. Time passed, and the hurt and anger seemed to dissipate.
John let go of Brady and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "I'm sorry I wasn't the kind of father I
should have been."
Brady swiped at his own tears shyly. "I always thought you hated me. I guess that's why I got into
so much trouble. I just wanted your attention. I wanted you to notice me."
"We have a lot to work out, son. I wish you would come back to Salem, so we could try to be a
family again."
"I can't. Not now anyway. Chloe needs me, and I need her just as much. With the baby coming
and Chloe's music, we can't leave now."
"I can't believe you're going to be a father," John said, smiling and shaking his head. He sobered
and put a hand on Brady's broad shoulder. "You'll be a great dad, more than I ever was."
John didn't, couldn't know what that simple statement had meant to Brady. Maybe years from
now he would tell him, but for now the wound was still fresh, and they were both still so
guarded. Instead, Brady smiled and walked to the door. "I'll call. Have a safe trip back. Tell Belle
I miss her, and tell Marlena I'm sorry for all the things I did to her and said to her."
"Marlena knows how angry you were, son. She's forgiven you long ago. I hope one day you'll be
able to show her the same courtesy."
Brady nodded and exited the hotel room. Outside, he breathed in the fresh air and somehow felt
revitalized, like he could do anything. He was ready for this baby, who he loved more than life
itself already, and he was ready to let go of his anger. He was ready to move on with Chloe.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When he walked through the front door of their apartment, Chloe was on the couch waiting for
him. She greeted him at the door nervously. "How'd it go?"
"We have a lot to sort out, but for the first time in years, I actually want to try to work things
out."
Chloe beamed and hugged him tightly to her bosom. "I'm so happy and so very proud of you."
He blushed slightly and pulled back. "None of this would be happening if it wasn't for you. If you
hadn't walked into my garage that day, if you hadn't been so persistent and so damn sexy, none of
this would be happening," he laughed, taking her back in his arms. "Thank you."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Look what came in the mail today," Brady said, waving the envelope in front of Chloe.
"What is it?"
"I don't know. But guess where it's from," Brady teased, holding it away from her so she could
not reach it. "What'll you give me for it?"
"I'm giving you a child. Isn't that enough?" she pouted.
"Fair enough!" he laughed and gave her the large brown envelope.
Chloe looked at the cover. "It's from Juilliard," she said, astonished.
"Open it!" Brady told her eagerly.
Chloe ripped open the envelope and took out the typed letter.
"Read it out loud," Brady said excitedly.
"Dear Miss Lane," she began. "We have received your application and demo tape and must say
we are impressed. Auditions will be held next Thursday at one p.m. until five p.m. We trust you
will find these times convenient and look forward to hearing you sing. Sincerely, the Office of
Admissions." Chloe looked up from the paper at a smiling Brady.
"What's wrong?" he asked when she wasn't returning his happiness.
"I think they made a mistake. Brady, I never sent in an application or a tape."
"I know. I did. I even sent them your picture." He beamed.
"But how?"
"Oh Lane, I have my ways," he laughed, wrapping his arms around her. "You know how you like
to sing in the shower?"
She nodded, still not able to knock the look of disbelief off of her face.
"Well I simply took a few samples when you weren't aware, cleaned them up at a studio and the
rest, as they say, is history."
"But what about the baby?"
"Chloe, this is your dream. Yes, the baby complicates things, but not so much that we can't work
our way around it. The shop is doing really well, and I'm hardly ever there as it is. When the baby
comes, I won't mind staying home."
"Brady, I want to be there."
"You could take some time off then. We'll work it out. You don't have to worry, Chloe. Whatever
you choose, I will support you. I can't force you to go on this audition, but I know it's what you've
always wanted. I know you'll blow them away. I know you have the ability and the personal
experience to connect with the music. Show them that. Show them how great you are." He
smiled proudly at her.
"There's something I need to do first."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Chloe, are you sure you want to do this?" Brady asked. Of all the things Chloe would want to do
before a big audition, this was not one he had thought of. Going to visit the graves of two men
that she had once been involved with was not Brady's idea of a healthy thing to do. But he drove
her there nonetheless and went with her to find where each man lay. She would go to Tony first.
He knew that. His grave would be rich and lavish and have a big monument with lots of flowers.
Brady would stand back and let her hand go, so she could finally get the peace she so desperately
needed.
"I'm sure," she told him and let go of his hand, taking the winding footpath to the glorious
memorial. She stood in front of the marble stone etched with a cross and rosary. Wiping her eyes,
she knelt in front of the grave.
"It's been a long time," she whispered sadly. "I know I've never come here before, and I probably
never will again. Maybe I don't deserve to be here now, but I had to come. I wanted to tell you
that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I wasn't who you thought I was. I tried to be what you wanted, and I
tried to love you. I really did." Chloe shook her head and stopped her rambles. "Knowing me got
you killed, and I will regret that the rest of my life. I haven't come for your forgiveness. I've come
to tell you that I'm going to forget you. You won't haunt my dreams anymore, because I'm
stronger than that. I won't feel guilty anymore, because I realize the business you were in would
have gotten you killed eventually. I'm leaving you here. You'd be proud of me though. I know
you would. I have everything I always wanted, and I've learned that I can love and people can
love me. I think you tried to teach me that, but I never really believed you, did I?"
Chloe shivered from the slight fall breeze. "I'm going to be a mother,"" she whispered softly,
touching her tummy. "I'll be a great mother. But before I can do that, I had to come here to get
closure. I have that now," Chloe said gently. "Goodbye, Tony." She turned and did not look back.
Chloe walked towards Derek's grave. The path seemed darker, colder. She searched the small
numbered graves, looking at the unfolded paper in her hand to find a match. In the field, with no
protection from the rain or nature's other elements, she found his grave. It was small, square and
gray. It seemed to match Derek and his life perfectly. He was never protected, always fighting to
survive, and it seemed he was destined to even in death. Chloe stood looking down at the grave.
It was fresh, and the dirt was still uneven. The grass and weeds already were starting to come up
and overtake the small plaque. So insignificant.
Chloe couldn't speak for a long time. "It seems ironic," she began. "I hated you when you were
alive. I hated you so much sometimes that was the only emotion I could feel, and now...now that
you're dead, all I feel for you is sympathy. I can't forgive you. I want to, but I'm just not there yet.
I don't think I'll ever be. You used me and hurt me and manipulated me, and it's taken me a long
time to build up my self-esteem again. But I will never get back those years you took from me. I
was never a child. You robbed me of that." Chloe breathed in heavily. "I don't know if you can
hear me or where you are, but I need to get these things out. Before I can move on----and I will
move on----I wanted to tell you how much you screwed me up. I want you to know how many
nights I wished I would die so I wouldn't have to deal with you, and how many nights I tried to
run away."
She stopped suddenly, wiping the stream of tears she didn't realize she had. "I'll leave you here
too. I won't think of you. I won't mention you. Because of you, I locked my heart so tight I never
thought anyone would get me to open up again, but I was wrong. I've found someone that loves
me...loves me for who I am, and we've given each other back our lives. He brought me back to
life when you destroyed me. I won't forgive you. Goodbye, Derek!"
Chloe made her way up the hill, facing the sunny sky and Brady's grinning face as he leaned
against the car.
"Ready to go?" he asked softly, thumbing her remaining tears.
Chloe nodded and let him hold her for a minute before they got into the car and drove away.
Chloe still did not look back.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"What if I'm not good enough?" Chloe asked nervously, as she applied her make-up in the
dressing room.
"You will be." Brady smiled, coming behind her, looking her in the eye from the mirror in front
of them.
"But what if..."
Brady cut off her protests, kissing her on the neck lightly. "No buts. You'll be great."
"And you'll be in the auditorium, right?"
"Yep, I'll be in the back, in case I make you nervous," he said, nuzzling against her.
"Not the back. In the front, where I can see you."
"Are you sure?"
"I need you there," she whispered, turning her head to place a lingering kiss on his cheek.
"Then that's where I'll be." He moved so she caught his lips instead.
Chloe smiled into the kiss. "I didn't think I'd be back here," she confided.
"I knew you would be," he whispered, running his hand over the slight bulge in her stomach. It
was their child, created through love. It was all they ever wanted, and now there was no one to
stand in their way.
"How?"
"It's your dream."
"One of them," she whispered. "One has already come true."
Brady stood up, holding his hand out for her. "Ready?"
"For once in my life, yes." She took his hand, and he lightly squeezed it.
"You're going to be great."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chloe took the stage. The lights flickered on, highlighting her frame. She stood in the center,
meeting Brady's eyes from the front row. She started to sing, but her voice crackled, and she
stopped. "I'm sorry. Can I start again?" she asked the panel.
They gave her the go ahead, but she was frozen. Brady finally caught her eye when she looked up
and urged her on. He smiled at her, and she returned it, then opened her mouth and let the notes
float out. The auditorium filled with her angelic voice. She sang for herself. She sang for Brady.
She didn't have to sing for the interviewers. They were secondary. None of it mattered as long as
she was true to her heart. She felt the notes, remembered the sentiments and took her voice to
another level.
She was free.