Chapter Twenty-Eight

The elevator doors opened with a decided flourish, revealing the spacious hallway that led to the penthouse, a home filled to overflowing with family and friends. With that knowledge in mind, Chloe paused briefly before she stepped off of the elevator and into the hallway. She leveled a concerned look at the front door of the penthouse before approaching it with hesitant steps. "Come on, Chloe," she mumbled lowly, gathering her remaining courage around her like a tattered cloak, "you can do this. It's simply a day, just like any other. Put a smile on your face and try to enjoy it!" She pasted an overly bright smile on her face and rang the doorbell, her vegetarian lasagna in one hand and a bag of potatoes clutched in the other.

John answered the doorbell immediately, a wide grin on his face when he saw who stood on the other side of the door. "Chloe!" he greeted her enthusiastically, pulling her into the noisy penthouse and out of the seclusion of the hallway. He placed a quick kiss on her cheeks before he gallantly took the casserole dish from her hand.

Chloe smiled with genuine warmth at John. "It's good to be here, John," she said quietly and almost meant it. When she entered the penthouse, everyone immediately stared at her. Conversations came to an abrupt halt. All eyes were drawn to her, all caring, all loving, but she still despised being the center of attention. The noise, which had stopped with her arrival, picked up again, as if everyone wanted to overlook the sudden silence that had reigned supreme upon Chloe's entrance.

Ignoring the response Chloe's arrival had caused, John pondered the underlying meaning in her words. Chloe, he knew with absolute certainty, still preferred suffering in silence, even though that was not much of an option for her. He stroked his chin, understanding that Chloe was here more out of obligation than desire. Which was fine with him. All that mattered to John, and everyone else in the room, was that Chloe was not alone. His dark eyes stared at her intently before he said seriously, "And we are glad to have you here, to have all of our family and friends gathered together for this day."

The caring words made Chloe uneasy. Searching for a way to distract him, she quickly lifted up the bag of potatoes, forcing a laugh through her dry throat. "I heard there was a catastrophe," Chloe joked with John, attempting to get him off of the line of conversation.

John chuckled, not really surprised that Marlena had screwed up the potatoes. The kitchen was not her specialty. "Between you and me," he whispered with a conspiratorial wink designed to make her laugh more, "it wasn't that much of a shock!" He laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it tightly, letting Chloe know that he understood her unstated desire for privacy.

Laughter spilled out of Chloe. "I won't say a word," she whispered back, grateful for John's support. Then, Chloe closed the door behind her and shrugged out of her jacket. She hung it up in the closet next to the door and followed John to the kitchen. She greeted the large amount of people with a genuine smile, put at ease by John's welcome.

The doorbell sounded again as soon as Chloe reached the kitchen. She paused in the doorway and turned to see who was at the door. The last arrival, she concluded from everyone else who was already in attendance. Marlena opened the door this time and welcomed in Ethan and Troy with a large smile and an even larger hug. "He's come a long way," Chloe noted aloud, watching the way he returned Marlena's warm greeting.

Hope happened to be coming out of the kitchen at that time, carrying sharp knives in her hand for setting the table. "Ethan certainly has," she remarked in agreement, satisfied with the progress both of her friends had made in dealing with their life-altering events. Putting one hand across Chloe's shoulders, she whispered for Chloe's ears only, "And so have you! I am so proud of you, Chloe. All of us are."

"Thanks, Hope," Chloe replied gratefully. Hope was the only person in Salem who Chloe could completely open up to. She had decided months ago that it was because of the unbreakable bond they had forged out of desperation and fury, during the time they had worked with Greta to bring Stefano DiMera down. A shattered heart had been an awesome thing to have in common. "Dealing with this…well, it hasn't been easy. Not by a long shot. But, with people like you in my life, it's certainly helped." With a tiny smile, Chloe left Hope and entered the chaos that was the penthouse kitchen.

Thrusting away the return of her melancholy thoughts, Chloe went out of her way to be jubilant. "Hey, I've got potatoes!" she sang out cheerfully from the doorway, lifting the heavy bag in the air, and masking her heavy heart successfully.

"That means you get to peel them!" Belle replied laughingly from her position next to the sink. She absently stirred the cranberry sauce and ignored Chloe's groans, smirking at the disheartened sounds.

"Only fair," Bo decided from the stove. He had the oven door open and was inspecting the turkey that he had cooked here. Marlena had offered the penthouse for Thanksgiving Dinner on the condition that everyone else did the cooking. She had wanted to make a side dish, but she had failed in that. Now, she would be perfectly content to set the table and help with the large clean up.

"Yeah," Shawn chimed in sarcastically, carefully placing the sweet potatoes into their pan. He set the pan on the counter, waiting for his father to move before he could use the stove. "All of us have been slaving away, Chloe. Cooking, preparing, setting the table. I think it's about time you started to do something!"

"Hah, hah," Chloe shot back, amused in spite of herself. She tossed the bag on the square wooden counter next to the casserole dish John had laid there earlier and ripped it open. "But, in the spirit of the day, I won't tell all of you exactly what I am thinking!" She laughed with the others and prepared the most mundane of all tasks of preparing the dinner: peeling potatoes.

An hour later, they were all gathered around the table, ready to celebrate their lives with their family and friends. John sat at the head of the table and began the prayer before they could eat, "Lord, all of us here would like to thank you for the everything you have given us. Family. Friends. Love. Strength. This has been a hard year. For all of us. We lost two people we loved and cherished dearly. Thank you for allowing them to share our lives, even if it was too short of a time. We were truly blessed to have Brady and Greta in our lives."

Many eyes misted with John's short, but eloquent, speech. After observing a moment of much-needed silence, where many needed to collect their emotions, the food was passed around the table. Chloe only took a small amount, John's words affecting her deeply. Her appetite had fled. A tiny thread of anger still lived within her because she could not understand why Brady and Greta had died. It was such a meaningless reason. A car accident. One that she had never come to grips with. One that she realized with a fatalistic shrug she never would.

Across the table, Belle fixed Allie's plate for her with an enthusiastic concentration found only in mothers. Allie was almost two years old and was already demanding control of every possible aspect of her life. With a laughing grin, she refused to eat the turkey her mother was attempting to feed her and settled instead for stuffing the mashed potatoes into her mouth with the aid of her chubby hands. The adults of the table laughed at her antics despite Belle's glare.

"Give it up, Belle," John advised her with a chuckle, reaching over and rubbing his granddaughter's head indulgently. Allie gifted him with an extra-wide grin, showing off her new front teeth. "At least for today. Tomorrow you can lecture Allie on the importance of eating with a fork."

Belle wrinkled her nose, giving in ungraciously. "Fine, Dad, I will. But it'll be your fault if Allie still uses her hands to eat with when she goes to college," she warned, shaking her finger accusingly at John.

The meal progressed slowly, with a lot of conversation and a great deal of laughter. Chloe took part in it with as much effort as possible but it was hard, harder than she had ever thought it would be. Her mind kept drifting back to Brady and then Greta, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she would never see them again.

Images of times with Brady invaded her mind as the conversation floated around her. She toyed with her fork and pretended to eat, all the while lost in her own thoughts. Their first meeting on the pier. Their first summer together, when everyone was in Puerto Rico. Their very first kiss after a playful snowball fight. Chloe sighed inwardly, remembering how Brady had been able to ignite her with one simple touch. It had started that day with the simply physical action and had continued ever since, even when they were apart. She finally ended on their wedding day, recalling the events like it was just yesterday. The way Brady had first looked incredulous, then dumbfounded, and finally ecstatic when she had informed him about the return of her memories. So many memories, so many beautiful memories. She thanked God every day that she had gotten them back. "But that's all I have now," Chloe whispered lowly to herself, unaware that she had spoken aloud.

"Hmm, Chloe? Did you say something?" Shawn asked from her one side, giving her a curious glance out of the corner of his eye.

Chloe shook away her thoughts and forced another smile to her face. The muscles of her face strained with the effort, actually hurting her with the pretense. She succeeded in nearly hiding the deeper feelings swirling in her eyes. "Could you pass me the rolls?" she requested, fabricating a made-up excuse quickly.

Shawn looked knowingly at her but did as he was told. After he handed her the basket filled with rolls, he paused and debated internally. Inclining his head to one side, he brought up the subject and encouraged her strongly, "Keep fighting, Chloe. We're all here for you."

Chloe turned a wide-eyed look on him, her sapphire eyes brilliant in their amazement. She loosely held a roll and a knife covered in butter in each hand. "Thank you," she finally answered, her voice reverberating with the startling discover that she may not be as good at hiding her feelings as she thought.

Frowning, Chloe let her gaze rove across the table. She caught Ethan's expression from across the table jammed with people. Inclining her head to the side, she noted that Ethan had a far-away look to his eyes, probably the same look that mirrored her feelings. She forced a smile to her face and waited until Ethan looked at her. Silently communicating with him, she lifted up her glass of wine and saluted his efforts. Learning to live without a loved one in your life was nearly impossible. Ethan nodded, acknowledging her support, before turned back and feeding Troy, who was located at his immediate right.

"Wow, now that was some dinner!" John exclaimed exuberantly, leaning back in his chair and groaning with exaggeration. He patted his stomach. "I am absolutely stuffed! My congratulations to the chefs!"

"Yes," Marlena merrily chimed in. "I say kudos to all of the cooks! You all did a fabulous job. And I am so thankful that I did not cook anything that you had to eat!" The table rang with laughter. No one wanted to eat Marlena's cooking.

"And don't forget, Dad," Belle announced with her classic perkiness, tapping her husband on the shoulder. "Pumpkin pie for dessert! Shawn made those awesome pumpkin pies from that recipe his gran gave him. I hope all of you left room for them."

Collective groans came from the table. Bo rubbed his stuffed stomach and told Shawn, a pained expression on his face, "Later, man, later. I don't think I can force another morsel of food into my mouth right now!"

"That's a fact!" John agreed loudly. He pushed his chair back and stretched before looking at his watch and exclaiming delightedly, "And I do believe that there's a football game on right now! Any takers?" He arched an eyebrow, waiting for the men to vacate the premises and join him for an afternoon of football.

Before the woman could offer a protest, the men had left the table and were crowded around the television set in the living, the children joining them. "Huh," Marlena said in exasperation, placing her hands on her hips while she gave her husband the look of death. "Would you just look at that. Ladies, I think we have been successfully deserted."

Hope leaned down and started picking up the plates. "Hey, let 'em enjoy their football game. They can clean up after dessert!" With a wink, she carried the plates into the kitchen. Rolling her eyes, Marlena followed suit, grumbling the entire way.

Belle chuckled throatily before she took one final bite of the homemade stuffing. "Hmmm. Now this was a great dinner," she informed Chloe, who hadn't the table yet.

"Yes, it certainly was," Chloe answered hollowly, toying with her fork. During the time it had taken everyone else to clear their plates, she had only disposed of half of her plate's contents. Thinking about Brady and Greta and never seeing them again had effectively killed her appetite.

Belle looked down at her sister-in-law's plate with a frown, knitting her eyebrows in concern. Clearing her throat, she posed a rhetorical question, "Uh, Chloe? You do realize that you aren't leaving this table until all that is finished. Right?" It was a directive, not a question.

Chloe cringed at Belle's order. "I'll do my best," Chloe assured her quickly, bringing another spoonful of her vegetarian lasagna to her lips. She chewed it slowly and attempted to eat the rest of her food. She wasn't very successful at it.

Satisfied that Chloe would try to eat more, Belle started gathering the rest of the plates from the table. When her hands were full, she placed them on the table with a loud clutter and leaned over Chloe, hugging her from behind. "Don't worry, honey, it'll get better. Someday. I promise." She kissed Chloe on the top of her head and brought the rest of the plates into the kitchen.

Staring unseeingly ahead of her, Chloe threw her napkin down on her plate in disgust. "Better. Right," Chloe repeated derisively. She bit down on the bitter pain that was always a part of her, knowing that it was not the time or place to give in to it. Sighing in defeat, she stood up and cleared off the rest of the plates, the simple routine soothing her frayed emotions.