Chapter 4

When the persistent sun shone brightly on her face, Chloe turned over and snuggled back into the covers. She sighed, as she felt a gentle caress to her cheek and took in his familiar scent. "Philip," she dreamily murmured.

"Morning, beautiful," he answered softly.

Her body instinctively curled into his, her hand resting over his heart. She sighed again, when she felt him stroking her hair.

"I love you, Chloe," he whispered.

She smiled and kissed his neck, then his cheek. And met stubble.

Her eyes flickered open to peer into his lazy blue. "Philip?"

"Hey, beautiful," he smiled and leaned in to give her a warm kiss.

It was like sinking into a dream, and her heavy eyelids threatened to close, until his hand ran possessively over her hip and molded her against him. She broke the kiss and pulled back. "Philip?"

"I think we've established that," he huskily replied, before he leaned in again.

"Philip," she said again, with a restraining hand pushing at his chest. "What are you doing here?"

He grinned devilishly, "I live here."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What?" Then, she reared out of bed, taking a scan of the room, and realized that she had no idea where she was. She wore her rumpled outfit from this early morning, while he wore his undershirt and jeans. "Where are we?"

"The guesthouse." Looking at her with affection, he lay on his side and rested his head on his hand.

"How did I get here?" she asked warily.

"I carried you," he grinned.

"Philip," she huffed in frustration, while her stomach danced at the sight of those wicked dimples. She knew that he was dragging out this question and answer session on purpose. "You know what I mean. What am I doing here instead of at my house?"

"Well, I was falling asleep at the wheel and figured it'd be safer for everyone, if we all came to my house and crashed here. Mimi's in the other room and Jason's on the couch."

Completely awake now, she crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him with suspicion. "I see. And what would you be doing in here, Sir Galahad?"

He shrugged without an ounce of guilt. "I woke up with you next to me. I guess I just conked out, after I tucked you in. You are kind of heavy, you know," he said, with his blue eyes twinkling. When she turned away, he rose to catch her chin, turning her back to face him. "Seriously, Chloe, I didn't plan this." When her stiff posture eased and her head lay on his shoulder, he sighed in relief. "But this wasn't so bad, right? Waking up with me, I mean?"

"Philip…"

"I know, I know. Take it slow." He sighed again and held her for a second.

"It really happened, then. Shawn's gone."

His arms tightened around her. "Yeah," he answered, not knowing what else to say with his own heart heavy with worry. Instead, he pulled her closer, closed his eyes, and cherished having the girl he loved by his side. "Hungry?"

She nodded against his shoulder.

"I bet Cook's going to go all out with his greatest fan in the house." Her lips curved against his in a sweet kiss, before he rose to call the kitchens for breakfast.

Freshly showered and dressed, Philip returned from the main house with clean clothes for his friends and a small troop of servants carrying vast trays of food. When Cook heard that darling Mademoiselle Chloe was staying in the guesthouse, he sent his assistants into a frenzy, as he whipped up his prized dishes, generously topped with fresh fruit and sweet delights. For the carnivores, the generally moody French chef prepared traditional American brunch with European flair. The end result was a virtual caravan of sumptuous food and a friendly demand that Mademoiselle drop by the main kitchen to taste his newest vegetarian soufflé.

Awakened by the heavenly aroma of food, Jason's stomach growled, as he rose from the couch. He rubbed his eyes to make sure that it wasn't all a mirage. "Damn, Phil. You think that's enough food?"

Philip grinned and thanked the servants, as they departed. "Well, Cook said young bodies have to refuel. Besides, you haven't seen Chloe eat yet."

"I heard that," she said, stepping into the living room.

Philip smiled and performed a sweeping bow. "Mademoiselle, breakfast is served."

Chloe laughed at his ridiculous gesture, while Jason was too groggy to roll his eyes.

"So," began Chloe with a secret feminine smile, "Where's Mimi?"

"I guess she's still snoring away," replied Philip with an answering smile. "Hey, Jase, why don't you wake Mimi up for breakfast, man? Me and Chloe'll set the table and stuff."

Still half-asleep, Jason shrugged and headed down the hall to fetch Mimi. He rubbed a hand over his face, as he approached two rooms on either side. One door was open and inside an empty king-sized bed was unmade. No Mimi. So, he turned to the closed door and knocked. When no answer came, he knocked again and finally turned the knob, as he always did, when he went to wake up his little sister. He saw the lump, completely covered from one end to the other, in the middle of the bed. Sighing, he walked to the head of bed. "Hey, wake up."

When no response came from the lump, he pulled down the blanket to find pinkened feet. Scratching his head, he paused for a second before proceeding to the tail end of the bed and pulled down the blanket. There lay an angelic face pressed down into a fluffy down pillow, dead to the world. Mimi slept belly down, blissfully embracing slumber. Her lashes hovered delicately over her cheek, while her supple lips ever so slightly opened and closed to breathe.

Rubbing a nervous hand over his belly, Jason bent down to shake her shoulder. "Hey, Mimi, wake up."

"Five more minutes, Daddy," she mumbled, before turning over and away from him.

He gulped, as the blanket settled over lush curves. Running a hand through his slept-in hair, he crossed to the other side of the bed. Shaking her shoulder again, he said, "Meems, you gotta wake up. Time to eat." He sighed again, as she only slept on. Then, his hand reached out to smooth back her silky hair, his knuckles gently grazed her cheek. Startled, he pulled his hand back, when he realized what he was doing. What the hell's going on? he asked himself.

Shaking his head, he rose and walked out, closing the bedroom door behind him. Obviously, Mimi would get up, when she's good and ready. When she did, she'd just have to nuke the leftovers.

Back inside her bedroom, Mimi's eyes blinked open and she smiled.

After brushing her teeth with the provided toiletries in the adjoining bath, Mimi stumbled into the dining area a little while later to find her friends, gorging on gourmet brunch. "Morning, guys."

"Hey, Mimi," greeted Philip, waving for her to join them at the food-laden table. "Help yourself, because we can't send back any leftovers."

She blinked. "What? We get to eat all of this?"

"We have to eat all this," corrected Jason with his mouth full of croissant and eggs, "Or the chef will string us up on a pole."

Mimi looked from Jason to Philip to Chloe and realized they were serious. "Uh… ok. Bring it on."

She sat down and piled food onto her plate. She hesitated before picking up a muffin twice as big as her fist. The boys swept their mountainous plates clean with gusto and went back for fourths. Mimi rolled her eyes. Jocks.

Meanwhile, Chloe approached her meal with dainty but significant forkfuls. She reminded herself to save room for a proper taste test of Jacque's new soufflé. She smiled, when Philip playfully jabbed Jason in the ribs, when Jason tried to take a rest break. The boys laughed and dove back in. She took another look around the dining area and living room and was amazed once again. This was how Philip lived day to day, and in his eyes, she knew that he wanted to share it with her.

Her eyes closed with another forkful of a fluffy Belgian waffle topped with colorful ripe berries. For that moment, she paused to relish every sensation - the taste, the smell, and the texture. Her eyes opened to find Philip watching her. When he gave her a secret wink, she felt her cheeks flush. He could still make her blush, even after everything they'd been through. What a wondrous thing that was.

The last fork finally dropped with a clang to the plate.

"Oh, God. I think I'm going to be sick," said Mimi, rubbing her now rounded belly.

"My stomach's about to explode," sighed Chloe, laying a drowsy hand over her eyes.

"Ditto," said Jason in the deep stages of food coma, thus not realizing he'd actually agreed with the girlfriend. "But the stuff's too damn good to barf back up."

"Please," pleaded Philip with a protective hand over his belly, "Don't even talk about barfing, ok? Now, what are we going to do with the extra pastries and ham?"

His friends uniformly shook their heads in horror.

"Well, we can't chuck it, because word will get back to Cook that his food was found in the trash. Then, our asses are fried, sorta speak," said Philip in a feeble attempt at humor.

"I say, we fess up," suggested Chloe. "Jacque will understand, seeing us waddle up to him to beg for forgiveness."

"Jacque?" Philip mumbled from his slouch. "I can't believe you're on a first name basis with Cook. Never gonna leave my girl alone with the staff again." He lifted his groggy head. "Come on, guys. Let's head over to the couch and watch some TV and wait for this food to settle. If we're going to be pigs, we might as well do it right."

After loading the plates, bowls, and flatware into the dishwasher, the four indeed waddled over to the living room and ever so gently eased themselves onto the massive leather couch. The boys sprawled out on the ends, while the girls squeezed into the middle. Swinging an arm around Chloe's shoulders, Phil reached for the remote with his free hand and clicked on the television.

"In other news, Salem Police begin their official search today of a missing teenager. Seventeen-year-old Shawn Douglas Brady was reported missing early this morning by his family. Sources say that he was distraught by the sudden death of his infant brother at Salem University Hospital, and disappeared shortly thereafter. The missing boy is an honor student at Salem High School and the son of decorated Detective Bo Brady and nephew of Captain Roman Brady. The public is asked to contact Salem Police at 555-0129 with any information of his whereabouts. Now, on to this week's weather forecast-"

Philip clicked off the television. Outside, a bird chirped a happy song from a snow-covered tree branch, while the sunrays shimmered through the patio doors. Chloe turned to comfort Mimi, as she choked back a sob. The embrace became a group hug, while the friends prayed for Shawn.

"I'll go with you," he insisted.

"No, Philip," said Chloe with a reassuring hand on his cheek, "You should go along with Jason and Mimi over to Belle's. I'm not that good at making people feel better, anyway. You know where I'll be."

"Chloe-"

"Please."

He sighed and pulled her close. Sometimes, Chloe needed to be alone, even without him. He was still working on accepting that. Letting her go was only harder now with one friend missing. "Ok, but take this," said Philip, handing her his cell phone. "Call me, when you're ready or if you need me, ok? I'll be right there."

"I know." She offered a smile and kissed him. "Now, I always know." She hopped out of the car. "See you guys, later. Tell Belle I'll see her soon," she waved, as the car pulled slowly away.

"That's weird," said Mimi from the backseat, "What's up with her? She should be coming with us to check on Belle. Instead, she's leaving. Some friend."

"Hey," interjected Philip behind the wheel, "She cares about Belle, just as much as we do, ok? It's just sometimes being with people all the time tires her out. So, she's going to take some personal time and call me as soon as she's done. So, chill."

Together, Jason and Mimi rolled their eyes with this new tidbit of Ghoul Girl eccentricity.

"Where's she going, anyhow?" asked Jason.

Chloe step down onto the pier and took a deep breath of salty sea air. The descending afternoon sun hung midway in the clear winter sky. Her legs dangling off the dock, she sat down to watch an egret tiptoeing near shore. The long-billed bird flapped its wings, when the sudden tide rushed in, momentarily throwing off its stride.

Life was like that sometimes, she thought. People waded through muck trying to make sense of things, when the unexpected blindsided them. Whether one was able to persevere and adapt separated failure from success, the weak from the strong. Unless the tide was so great that no one, weak or strong, could have survived.

She thought of Shawn and grieved for him. And on a breeze, the music came to her - "Les Misérables," France in revolution, in uprising, in chaos. Within those times, a woman, beaten down by cruel fate, sang about her dreams.

"I dreamed a dream in times gone by, when hope was high, and life worth living. I dreamed that love would never die. I dreamed that God would be forgiving…"

Chloe closed her eyes, as the emotions rush in. "But there are dreams that cannot be and there are storms we cannot weather. I had a dream my life would be so different from this hell I'm living. So different now from what it seemed…"

Her eyes opened, brimmed with tears. "Now life has killed the dream I dreamed."

She sighed, as the tide pulled back from shore to go back out to sea. Despite the incoming clouds, the sun pleasantly warmed her skin, while the egret waded back into the water for a snack. Her heart lightened. Like all things, good or bad, there was a beginning and an end, but no matter what, life went on. And as she so recently learned, how life carried on depended a great deal on herself and how she chose to live it.

So, she rose and dusted herself off. Philip and her friends were waiting, and together they'd find Shawn and let him know that he was not alone.

Light footsteps from behind had her shaking her head. Smiling, she turned, "Philip, I told you-"

She gasped. Before her were weary brown eyes gazing out from an unshaven face.

"Shawn," she croaked.