Chapter Twenty-Five

The happy gurgling of baby Troy interrupted Chloe's knock on the front door of the house. Laughing down at the happy baby in her arms, she placed a quick kiss on his smooth cheek. There was something so soothing about holding an innocent baby. She inhaled the lovely baby scent of her nephew and shot a quick, anxious look at Hope. Gritting her teeth at the thought that had just occurred to her, she asked hesitatingly, "Does he know that his mother's not here any longer?" Chloe settled the baby firmly on her hip and bounced him. His excited giggles filled the air.

Hope inclined her head towards the baby and lifted Troy's Noah's ark bag filled with all the supplies he could possibly need. "Of course," she answered softly. Lowering her voice, Hope explained, "He looks for her all the time, Chloe. Sometimes, when I go into J.T.'s old nursery first thing in the morning or to wake him up from a nap, he just stares at me. I know, I just know, that he is expecting Greta to pick him up, to cuddle him. When he realizes it's only me, he gets this disappointed look in his eyes that simply tears my heart out."

Chloe held him aloft in the air, actually smiling when he waved his hands and feet wildly. It was a genuine smile, the very first one that had graced her lips since the news of the car accident. She pulled him closer to her and held him against her chest. Staring down into his cobalt eyes, she couldn't help but feel an overwhelming amount of love for the little boy. She replied in a hushed tone, "That's so sad, Hope. He'll never know his mother."

Hope rapidly blinked away tears, saddened by the reality of Troy's life. Cutting through the seriousness of the moment, she cleared her throat and announced sarcastically, "Well, at the rate Ethan's going, he'll never know his father either."

"Which brings us back to the matter at hand." With a sigh, Chloe turned and face the front door of Ethan's house. Ethan hadn't seen Troy, or anyone else for that matter, since the funeral and the reception at the Brady Pub, five days ago. Chloe, who was finally ready to start getting back into the simple act of routine, had returned to work at Basic Black. For a few hours a day. Enough to bring focus back into her life. After she had faced her grief the night of the reception, by herself and with the help of John and Marlena, she had been able to accept the permanence of Brady's and Greta's deaths. Not understand, never that, but accept. She knew from the depths of her soul that she'd never be the same Chloe Lane Black but she had to start facing each day. Baby steps. Just like Craig had advised her.

"Ethan's not gonna like this." Hope gently broke into Chloe's dark thoughts. She brushed back a stray lock of hair and eyed Chloe closely. She realized that Chloe had drifted away, a habit she had developed ever since she had rejoined the world a few days ago. Hope knew that her friend would always internalize her grief, only reaching out for comfort and support when the grief was too overwhelming. She watched Chloe with a probing look, nodding when the dark cloud lifted from Chloe's face.

Shaking the despairing thoughts away, Chloe forced a smile of overly bright enthusiasm at Troy. Baby steps, she was coming to realize, were very hard indeed. "Your dada's gonna be very mad!" she told the baby cheerfully, eagerly contemplating the next few minutes. Ethan Sinclair had no idea what was about to hit him.

"Bringing Troy was a stroke of brilliance," Hope laughed deeply, relieved that Chloe had been able to overcome the troubling thoughts. She rubbed her hand over the thin brown hair on the baby's smooth head, hair that was the exact shade of Greta's. "Ethan won't be able to rant and rave with this little guy present."

"That's the plan," Chloe replied enthusiastically. She smiled again, anticipating the next few minutes with one stubborn Ethan Sinclair.

Hope grinned back at her friend. The simple act of living was hard for Chloe to face, but she was doing it. And Hope planned on being there every step of the way for her friend. Stepping up to the door, she announced loudly, "Well, here goes nothing!" With that, she knocked as hard as she could on the door.

They waited patiently on the doorstep. Putting her ear to the door, Chloe shared with Hope, "Nothing. Try again."

After the third attempt of excessively loud pounding to get Ethan to open the door failed, Chloe handed Troy over to Hope. She looked through her purse, chewing on her bottom lip until she came up with her key chain. Chloe held the key up like a trophy. "Ethan Sinclair, ready or not, here we come!" With that, she turned the key in the lock and let themselves in.

The two women stepped cautiously into the house. Frowning, they noticed that the house was too quiet. Eerily quiet. And the stench of stale booze strongly permeated the stagnant air within the four walls. "Ugggh," Hope grimaced with disgust. She went to the nearest window and threw it open, letting in the warm summer air. Troy chortled gleefully with the movements. He reached around and began playing with Hope's hair, babbling the entire way, while a gentle summer breeze entered the house.

Chloe studied Troy closely, noticing the extra-wide smile, the bright light in his eyes, the excited gurgling noises coming from his chubby lips. "Oh, Hope! I think Troy knows that he's home." Her eyes alight with joy for the first time since the accident, Chloe ran over to Hope and took Troy in her arms. She swung him around in a circle, Troy's laughter ringing throughout the house.

Hope watched Chloe with her nephew and shook her head, delighted that Chloe could find joy in life again. It would be a long, hard battle, but Chloe definitely had the strength for it. She turned away from the touching scene and walked down the hallway, following the smell of stale beer.

After peering in a few rooms, Hope finally arrived at the right location. Looking into the dark living room, she saw Ethan's bare feet sticking out from the edge of the sofa. "Mm…hmm," she noted, her eyes narrowing with disgust while she contemplated the best approach with one passed-out Ethan Sinclair. Then, her lips pulled back into a cool smile as a plan unfolded itself before her eyes. She glanced over her shoulder at a shocked Chloe, who had entered the room. "Ready for a little fun?"

Chloe arched a surprised eyebrow. She held onto Troy, unsure about Hope's intentions, and curiously watched Hope get to work. When Troy quieted down, Chloe glanced down at him. He turned his head into her chest and left it there. She placed her hand over his head and whispered soothing words to her nephew, waiting to find out exactly what Hope had planned for Ethan.

With a smile wide with satisfaction, Hope bypassed the sofa and the unsuspecting man. Instead, she attacked the closed drapes, opening them with a vengeance and letting the bright afternoon sun pour mercilessly into the room. As calculated, the light hit Ethan squarely on the face. Groaning, he squeezed his eyes shut and threw up a hand to ward off the undesirable light, the light that pained his overly sensitive eyes. He turned around and faced the back of the sofa, still ignorant of his uninvited guests.

Hope frowned at the failure of her first attempt. Tapping her chin, she briefly contemplated her next move. A grin that could only be described as diabolical lit up her face. Since the advent of light didn't work, her next plan needed to be more shocking. Without a word, Hope sailed past a gaping Chloe and headed out of the room.

Baffled, Chloe watched Hope leave the room with determined strides. Shrugging her shoulder, she brought a silent Troy over to the windows and opened them. Soon, a gentle gust of air blew itself regularly through the room, gradually chasing away the stale scent of beer, whiskey and assorted other liquors. She walked over to the coffee table and stared in disgust at the various bottles on top of it. Some empty, some half-full, others lying on their side while the liquor spilled out, the liquid running off of the table and landing in a pool on the buff-colored carpet.

Chloe's mounting anger disappeared the second her eyes fell on the picture frame displayed prominently among the bottles on the coffee table. Leaning down, being careful to support Troy on her opposite hip, Chloe picked up the beautiful picture of Greta. "Ohh, Greta," she murmured, tears pricking her eyes ruthlessly.

Her eyes caressed the picture of Greta on her wedding day. Because of their mission to bring down Stefano DiMera, Greta and Ethan had to be married in secret, so there had been no big, lavish, splashy wedding. The type of wedding Greta had dreamed about ever since she was a little girl. All that changed when she met and fell in love with Ethan. Instead, the wedding had been very quiet, very secluded, in a beautiful villa in Italy. Greta had worn a simple white lace dress, carried a bouquet of red roses, and had small white flowers arranged artistically throughout her hair. A huge smile was on her face, a smile of pure happiness. Joy and love practically radiated from the picture. Her breath came in deep gasps as Chloe remembered the day perfectly. "It'll never end," she told herself realistically. "Time may ease it, but the pain will always be there." Carefully, she put the frame back on the table.

"Now this is going to be fun!" Hope exclaimed from the doorway, a pitcher of water in her hand. Eyes gleaming with a militant look that would have given Napoleon second thoughts, she entered the room with a gait that described her determination perfectly.

Grateful for the distraction, Chloe turned fascinated eyes as Hope approached Ethan. Standing over the prone, almost lifeless body, she lifted the pitcher with practiced ease and slowly, ever so slowly, allowed the water to trickle out and onto Ethan's averted head. Chloe's mouth dropped open in astonishment before the first wayward giggle burst through. Troy gazed up at his aunt with a wide-eyed look, his bow lips smiling happily with the sound.

Ethan came awake with a definite start, sputtering in disgust as he sat straight up on the sofa. "What the fuck…" he cursed violently, using his hand to wipe the seemingly endless stream of water from his eyes. When the water eventually stopped, he used the bottom of his t-shirt to clean his face. With lips curling into a snarl, he glared daggers at the satisfied culprit.

"Serves you right," Hope scolded him, placing one hand on her hip and defiantly returned his glare, not in the least impressed with Ethan's obvious fury. She held the pitcher accusingly out to him. "I'm mad at you, Ethan Sinclair, very mad indeed."

Suffering from the effects of a painful hangover, Ethan shut his eyes and leaned back against the sofa, praying that this was some type of a horrible nightmare. The sudden lurching movement of sitting up had brought a pounding headache that ached with each movement, no matter how tiny or insignificant. "What the hell are you doing here, Hope?" he finally managed to get out of his gritty throat, aware that he couldn't rant and rave like he wanted to. Unfortunately, the state of his body would not allow that. Yet. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and brought a hand to his aching temples.

"Ahh, poor baby," Hope cooed sarcastically, not the least sympathetic to Ethan's sorry state. Her sympathy for Ethan had ended days ago, when he never came to regain his son. Now she was just plain mad. "Nasty hangover?"

"No," Ethan shot back with as much force as he dared. He dropped his head in his hands and muttered under his breath, grimacing with the effort, "Nasty visitor."

Enjoying the game, Hope turned to a grinning Chloe, who Ethan hadn't noticed. "Hear that, Chloe? We are nasty visitors." Chloe covered the next giggle that threatened to escape from her lips. She only half-succeeded.

Ethan followed the sound through half-closed lids, hoping to block out the excessive amount of light streaming in from the open blinds. Fuck. That was the reason why he had them closed to begin with. He could only see the basic outline of Chloe through his blurry vision. "I heard that," he accused her scathingly, momentarily powerless to defend his territory and throw the two women out like he wanted to. "God, what did I do to deserve this?"

"Two people who love you?" Hope snapped back furiously, her harsh tone contradicting her caring words. Ethan, she realized with growing anger, had been left alone long enough. Time to fix that. "Your sister-in-law and the woman who has watched your son for you? I'd say that you're pretty darn lucky."

Ethan cracked open a bloodshot eye and managed a convincing glare at Hope. He opened his mouth, ready for a sharp retort. Chloe shook her finger at him and hastily interrupted Ethan before he could snap back, most likely with some inventive curses that would turn the air a dark shade of blue. "Notice that she used the word "darn", Ethan. Think why she did." At that precise moment, Troy let out a small gurgle from the safety of Chloe's arms.

Ethan slowly opened both eyes, all anger at his unexpected guests disappearing with the unbelievably hard movement. Cold realization hit him hard. His son, the son he hadn't seen in almost two weeks, was here. Exhaling deeply, he remembered that he last time he had held Troy was the morning before he left for work, the day that Greta had died, a week and a half ago. The day that his life became utter hell.