I disclaim!!! Thanks so much guys for reading and replying. Strangely
enough, it does keep me motivated to try and get chapters out faster. ;) So
yea, I have another chapter up! Though, I think you may be a little
disappointed with it but get the bad stuff over with right? I'm probably
confusing you so I will shut up now! LOL
Chapter 13: The Game of Life
The next morning Brady did go back to Chicago, still leaving things awkward between him and Chloe. A morning turned into a day, a day turned into a week, a week into two. Two weeks and not so much as a phone call from either side. Chloe had thrown herself back into her work, working overtime and spending all of her free time with her nose in the newest bestseller. Brady was no better. It was back to the daily grind for him. For his routine morning exercise, he jogged along a quiet snowy street by his apartment like he had in the past. But it just wasn't the same. Things that had seemed important before he met Chloe still were but now there was this nagging feeling. There was a constant discontent gnawing at his insides and he knew a lot of it had to do with her. He hadn't known when it happened but she had become a large part of his world. In the weeks since leaving Salem, he'd found himself wondering what Chloe would think of or say about this and that.
He missed her laugh. And he missed the way her eyes would get really wide when she was embarrassed or angry or really excited about something. Hell, he even missed her cartoon scrubs and nightshirts. For someone who appeared to be so serious and at times very haughty, she was just about the silliest woman he ever met. "It's always the quiet ones," he sighed, smiling. He just really missed talking to her, understanding who she really was and being understood by her. And he would pick up the phone and call her but. . . "But what?" He slowed to a walk along a dumpster by a local gas station. "I could call her." He stopped walking, pulling off his knit cap and scratching his head. "I will call her. . . eventually." He slid against the wall and plopped down on the dirty snow gathered along the side of the building, taking a short break. "I'll call her tonight. . . tomorrow night. Maybe in a few days." He scoffed. "Grow some balls, Brady."
He was no paranormal believer. Well, not entirely. Not anymore. Since leaving Salem, he'd found himself stepping over cracks in the sidewalk and digging up his old Ouji board. He'd even considered calling a psychic hotline number. He was desperate. He'd begun to believe, in his heart, that he and Chloe were meant to be together. They were soulmates. He wanted to run back to Chicago, take her in his arms and tell her so too. But did she still feel that way? Had he blown it when he left for Chicago? It was the unknown that was so frightening. She hadn't called after all, but neither had he. When he'd first gotten back to Chicago, he'd been so mad at Chloe and so disappointed in the way things had turned out. But he was more upset with himself. He'd known Chloe was afraid of something. He didn't know just what yet and really didn't care to because he was afraid as well. Well, he was tired of being afraid. He was going to do something today-right now. "I love her and I want to be with her. We can make this work. God," he ran a hand through his hair, looking to the cloudy sky above. "Show me a sign, any sign that what I've just decided to do will work." It was then Brady felt something wet and rough pass over his hand. "What the-" He looked down at a small dog.
The brown spotted bulldog, clearly not more than a few months old, sat licking the back of Brady's hand over and over. "Who are you little man," Brady asked the dog. "Guess you're the sign I've been waiting for huh?" He laughed and stood. "Thanks man!" Brady took off on his jog again, determined to set in motion the epiphany he'd just had. Within ten minutes, he'd made it home. He stopped at the stoop outside of his apartment to stretch his legs before going in when he'd noticed that same bulldog sat looking at him. It's big brown eyes following Brady's movements. "Did you follow me home?. . . Look, dog, you're real cute and you helped me come to a major decision in my life but go away, k? Shoo. . . Go on. Get lost." The dog didn't budge, just kept looking at Brady, it's eyes glistening and contrasting nicely, with the white snow that began to fall again. Brady couldn't help but feel his heart melting as he looked down at the puppy without a collar, obviously lost and undoubtedly cold. He crouched down in front of the dog and continued his conversation. "You lost, hmm?. . . I could feed you something but then you'd have to leave right after okay? My landlord's going to get me if I sneak a dog into the place without telling him. And I can't really keep you because I don't know if I want the company." The dog just licked Brady's hand some more. "Alright, alright. Come on," he gathered the dog in his arms and jogged up to his apartment.
Twenty minutes later Brady sat on his living room floor, scratching the puppy on his tummy. "You know, you're real lucky you're so cute. Big ol' paws on this chubby, little body. You're like Fred Flintstone or something. Well, come on Fred. Time to call Chloe," Brady stood up and grabbed the cordless phone, pacing back and forth for several moments, while Fred sat, still on his back, tummy out in that air, falling asleep on the warm rug beneath him. "To call or not to call, that is the question. Well, what do you say Fred?" Brady noted the snoring dog on his rug. "You look like you just drank a six pack of beer," Brady chuckled. "Quit stalling Black," he told himself and dialed the familiar number. The phone rang three times before the machine picked up and Chloe's delightful voice could be heard through the receiver.
"Hi, this is Chloe. I can't come to the phone right now but if you're real lucky and you leave me a message, I'll be sure to get back to you. Byeeeeee."
Brady would have to be sure to remember to tell Chloe her message sounded like a phone sex line. "Hi. . . Chloe. It's me. Brady. Look, I know it's been awhile. Two weeks and one day to be exact. You hadn't called and. . . not that I'm saying you should have. I mean I'm as much at fault as you. Not that I'm blaming you in any way. Uh, anyway. . . well I was thinking. . . about us and how we left things. And well, I. . . I'll be in Salem on Wednesday, that is tomorrow, for a meeting and thought maybe we could meet somewhere. Umm. . . so if you're interested, I should be through about two o' clock. I was thinking maybe we could meet at the Brady pub for lunch, if you're not working and if you are working maybe you could give me a call on my cell. I'd really appreciate it," he paused. "I miss you, Chloe. I want to see you and fix things between us. Umm. . . I loveyoubye. Talk. . . talk to you soon. . . I hope." He put down the phone and collapsed on the couch in mortification. He was the world's worst message leaver! "Oh, God, I really screwed that one up didn't I, Fred?" He looked over at his newly adopted buddy. The dog merely groaned in annoyance and rolled over onto his side to get some sleep. "Gee, thanks for the support." Well either way, things would be decided, Brady figured. If Chloe wanted to meet him, she would and if she didn't she wouldn't. At least he'd know once and for all.
****************
Chloe sighed in exhaustion as she opened the door to her loft. She'd just worked a long twelve-hour day and she was dog-tired. She hadn't stopped working it seemed and it was beginning to catch up with her. But she just didn't want to face the music. She didn't want to hear Belle, Mimi and Nancy go on about men they'd met who would be perfect for her. They all knew she was in love with Brady, especially after Brady left for Chicago. They'd all compared Chloe to a balloon that had been slowly deflating and now they were trying everything in their power to pump her back up. She would get through this. She'd had her share of boyfriends in college but none of them compared to what she felt for Brady. No she had never been in love like this before. But apparently, only she felt so strongly. After all, he hadn't called. Of course she hadn't either but she was tired of being the initiator. He hadn't even told her he loved her. "Well, he tried but you stuffed a cupcake into his mouth, Chloe," she said to herself. Either way, it didn't matter. None of it did, because he couldn't really be in love with her. If he were, he never would have left to begin with. Chloe saw the light on her answering machine blinking. "Later," she sighed. "I don't have the heart to listen to anyone's pity tonight." Lazily, she stripped her clothes and took a nice, hot shower before jumping into bed and falling asleep.
Chloe must have been asleep not twenty minutes when she heard the pounding at her door. "What the-" She stumbled to her door, sliding it open, trying to adjust her eyes to the brightness of the hallway. "Mimi? Belle? What are you two doing here? What time is it?"
Belle grinned. "It's only nine in the evening."
"And we've come to cheer you up," Mimi finished.
"No guys, I'm really tired."
"No excuses, Chloe," Belle pushed her way in, Mimi not far behind, both of their arms filled with boxes.
"What is all this," Chloe asked, raking a hand through her hair.
"Board games!" Belle smiled brightly.
"And some vodka, orange juice, cranberry juice and white wine," held up a bottle and a few small packets. "Hope you have a blender here cause I have some daiquiri mixes too. What's your pleasure?"
"Guys," Chloe began, "I see what you're trying to do and I appreciate it. I do. I really do, but-"
"No buts," Belle scolded.
"Unless we're talking about Brad Pitt's or Orlando Bloom's," Mimi countered.
Chloe laughed, shaking her head. "What am I gonna do with you guys?"
"Play a board game and get very nasty, shit-faced drunk," Mimi laughed.
****************
Three hours later, the three women sat on the floor laughing and carrying on, all three very nasty, shit-faced drunk. They'd decided to play the board game 'Life' but they'd stopped halfway through, neither of them even sober enough to focus on the numbers on the spin dial.
"But I really like cheeseburgers," Belle whined. "I don't know why I bother worrying about my figure. Shawn drinks enough beer. He clearly doesn't care about his."
Mimi nodded in agreement. "I love cheeseburgers, but I don't know. Lately, I've asked for the no cheese cheeseburgers."
"That would be a hamburger, Meems," Belle giggled.
"You're right!" Mimi slapped her own leg and grinned drunkenly. "Which do you prefer Chloe? Chloe?" Both women looked to their friend who sat, her eyes tearing up. That alone was sobering enough for them.
"Chloe what's wrong," Belle cooed.
"Nothing," Chloe felt the tears spill over onto her cheeks. "It's just the cheese and everything." She remembered her conversation with Brady about cheese. "And then the car," she held up the miniature truck playing piece from the game with a little pink pin in the driver's seat representing her, a blue one next to that, her husband, and two blue pins behind, her two little boys. "My biological clock is ticking you know? And I love him and he doesn't like goat cheese and ugh! Brady!" She sobbed and let her head fall in her hands as her shoulders shook with her cries.
"Oh honey," Belle comforted her best friend.
"I'm fine," Chloe tried to calm herself. "I am. I really am. It's just I never wanted this, you know," she held up the little family in the little truck playing piece. "I wanted to work and. . . work and help people and. . . travel the world whenever I wanted. Just get on a plane to Paris or Rome. I never wanted this. Well, I never knew I wanted it anyway. . . until I met him." She began to sob again, both Mimi and Belle trying to ease their best friend's pain.
*************
Chloe awoke on her couch. Peering at the clock, she noted the time. "Four am." She got up, rubbing her face and making her way to the kitchen. Her head was pounding. She hadn't gotten drunk in years. She could remember the first time she did. It was when she'd moved out on her own. Her first night away from home in so long so she took advantage, living it up at a party. She was so drunk she thought she was going to die. When she'd called Craig for help, he simply said: 'Take two aspirins and call me in the morning.'
She chuckled at the memory but regretted it quickly when her head throbbed violently. "I feel like my head's going to fall off." So she pulled down her trusty aspirin from the cabinet and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took her medicine. Something by the phone caught her eye. It was a note from Mimi and Belle. "Were sober enough to call and take a taxi home. Feel better girl. Talk to you tomorrow. Meems and Belle." Chloe grinned. "Well thank God, I'm off today, my head is killing me. . . Six messages. Well, well, well. . . who would have called me? Certainly not Brady." She pressed play.
"Message One."
Nancy's voice filtered through the air. "Chloe honey, it's me, your mom. I have-have-have th- th-th"
"Damn machine!" Chloe cursed and pressed the stop and play buttons a few times, hoping to get it to work when she heard the tape being eaten up inside of the machine. "Ugh!" She ripped open the player and tore the eaten up tape out, throwing it in the trashcan by the desk. "Damn ancient machine!" She threw the machine out as well. "Never again." Why she never decided to buy an updated answering machine was beyond her. This one had always given her trouble. Well no more. Tomorrow she would go out and buy a new one or maybe she'd just call her phone company and have them set up voice mail for her. "Six lost messages," Chloe sighed. "Oh well, couldn't be anything important." She sauntered to her bedroom, hoping to catch a few more winks before she had to get up and start her day.
TBC. . . Thanks for reading!
Chapter 13: The Game of Life
The next morning Brady did go back to Chicago, still leaving things awkward between him and Chloe. A morning turned into a day, a day turned into a week, a week into two. Two weeks and not so much as a phone call from either side. Chloe had thrown herself back into her work, working overtime and spending all of her free time with her nose in the newest bestseller. Brady was no better. It was back to the daily grind for him. For his routine morning exercise, he jogged along a quiet snowy street by his apartment like he had in the past. But it just wasn't the same. Things that had seemed important before he met Chloe still were but now there was this nagging feeling. There was a constant discontent gnawing at his insides and he knew a lot of it had to do with her. He hadn't known when it happened but she had become a large part of his world. In the weeks since leaving Salem, he'd found himself wondering what Chloe would think of or say about this and that.
He missed her laugh. And he missed the way her eyes would get really wide when she was embarrassed or angry or really excited about something. Hell, he even missed her cartoon scrubs and nightshirts. For someone who appeared to be so serious and at times very haughty, she was just about the silliest woman he ever met. "It's always the quiet ones," he sighed, smiling. He just really missed talking to her, understanding who she really was and being understood by her. And he would pick up the phone and call her but. . . "But what?" He slowed to a walk along a dumpster by a local gas station. "I could call her." He stopped walking, pulling off his knit cap and scratching his head. "I will call her. . . eventually." He slid against the wall and plopped down on the dirty snow gathered along the side of the building, taking a short break. "I'll call her tonight. . . tomorrow night. Maybe in a few days." He scoffed. "Grow some balls, Brady."
He was no paranormal believer. Well, not entirely. Not anymore. Since leaving Salem, he'd found himself stepping over cracks in the sidewalk and digging up his old Ouji board. He'd even considered calling a psychic hotline number. He was desperate. He'd begun to believe, in his heart, that he and Chloe were meant to be together. They were soulmates. He wanted to run back to Chicago, take her in his arms and tell her so too. But did she still feel that way? Had he blown it when he left for Chicago? It was the unknown that was so frightening. She hadn't called after all, but neither had he. When he'd first gotten back to Chicago, he'd been so mad at Chloe and so disappointed in the way things had turned out. But he was more upset with himself. He'd known Chloe was afraid of something. He didn't know just what yet and really didn't care to because he was afraid as well. Well, he was tired of being afraid. He was going to do something today-right now. "I love her and I want to be with her. We can make this work. God," he ran a hand through his hair, looking to the cloudy sky above. "Show me a sign, any sign that what I've just decided to do will work." It was then Brady felt something wet and rough pass over his hand. "What the-" He looked down at a small dog.
The brown spotted bulldog, clearly not more than a few months old, sat licking the back of Brady's hand over and over. "Who are you little man," Brady asked the dog. "Guess you're the sign I've been waiting for huh?" He laughed and stood. "Thanks man!" Brady took off on his jog again, determined to set in motion the epiphany he'd just had. Within ten minutes, he'd made it home. He stopped at the stoop outside of his apartment to stretch his legs before going in when he'd noticed that same bulldog sat looking at him. It's big brown eyes following Brady's movements. "Did you follow me home?. . . Look, dog, you're real cute and you helped me come to a major decision in my life but go away, k? Shoo. . . Go on. Get lost." The dog didn't budge, just kept looking at Brady, it's eyes glistening and contrasting nicely, with the white snow that began to fall again. Brady couldn't help but feel his heart melting as he looked down at the puppy without a collar, obviously lost and undoubtedly cold. He crouched down in front of the dog and continued his conversation. "You lost, hmm?. . . I could feed you something but then you'd have to leave right after okay? My landlord's going to get me if I sneak a dog into the place without telling him. And I can't really keep you because I don't know if I want the company." The dog just licked Brady's hand some more. "Alright, alright. Come on," he gathered the dog in his arms and jogged up to his apartment.
Twenty minutes later Brady sat on his living room floor, scratching the puppy on his tummy. "You know, you're real lucky you're so cute. Big ol' paws on this chubby, little body. You're like Fred Flintstone or something. Well, come on Fred. Time to call Chloe," Brady stood up and grabbed the cordless phone, pacing back and forth for several moments, while Fred sat, still on his back, tummy out in that air, falling asleep on the warm rug beneath him. "To call or not to call, that is the question. Well, what do you say Fred?" Brady noted the snoring dog on his rug. "You look like you just drank a six pack of beer," Brady chuckled. "Quit stalling Black," he told himself and dialed the familiar number. The phone rang three times before the machine picked up and Chloe's delightful voice could be heard through the receiver.
"Hi, this is Chloe. I can't come to the phone right now but if you're real lucky and you leave me a message, I'll be sure to get back to you. Byeeeeee."
Brady would have to be sure to remember to tell Chloe her message sounded like a phone sex line. "Hi. . . Chloe. It's me. Brady. Look, I know it's been awhile. Two weeks and one day to be exact. You hadn't called and. . . not that I'm saying you should have. I mean I'm as much at fault as you. Not that I'm blaming you in any way. Uh, anyway. . . well I was thinking. . . about us and how we left things. And well, I. . . I'll be in Salem on Wednesday, that is tomorrow, for a meeting and thought maybe we could meet somewhere. Umm. . . so if you're interested, I should be through about two o' clock. I was thinking maybe we could meet at the Brady pub for lunch, if you're not working and if you are working maybe you could give me a call on my cell. I'd really appreciate it," he paused. "I miss you, Chloe. I want to see you and fix things between us. Umm. . . I loveyoubye. Talk. . . talk to you soon. . . I hope." He put down the phone and collapsed on the couch in mortification. He was the world's worst message leaver! "Oh, God, I really screwed that one up didn't I, Fred?" He looked over at his newly adopted buddy. The dog merely groaned in annoyance and rolled over onto his side to get some sleep. "Gee, thanks for the support." Well either way, things would be decided, Brady figured. If Chloe wanted to meet him, she would and if she didn't she wouldn't. At least he'd know once and for all.
****************
Chloe sighed in exhaustion as she opened the door to her loft. She'd just worked a long twelve-hour day and she was dog-tired. She hadn't stopped working it seemed and it was beginning to catch up with her. But she just didn't want to face the music. She didn't want to hear Belle, Mimi and Nancy go on about men they'd met who would be perfect for her. They all knew she was in love with Brady, especially after Brady left for Chicago. They'd all compared Chloe to a balloon that had been slowly deflating and now they were trying everything in their power to pump her back up. She would get through this. She'd had her share of boyfriends in college but none of them compared to what she felt for Brady. No she had never been in love like this before. But apparently, only she felt so strongly. After all, he hadn't called. Of course she hadn't either but she was tired of being the initiator. He hadn't even told her he loved her. "Well, he tried but you stuffed a cupcake into his mouth, Chloe," she said to herself. Either way, it didn't matter. None of it did, because he couldn't really be in love with her. If he were, he never would have left to begin with. Chloe saw the light on her answering machine blinking. "Later," she sighed. "I don't have the heart to listen to anyone's pity tonight." Lazily, she stripped her clothes and took a nice, hot shower before jumping into bed and falling asleep.
Chloe must have been asleep not twenty minutes when she heard the pounding at her door. "What the-" She stumbled to her door, sliding it open, trying to adjust her eyes to the brightness of the hallway. "Mimi? Belle? What are you two doing here? What time is it?"
Belle grinned. "It's only nine in the evening."
"And we've come to cheer you up," Mimi finished.
"No guys, I'm really tired."
"No excuses, Chloe," Belle pushed her way in, Mimi not far behind, both of their arms filled with boxes.
"What is all this," Chloe asked, raking a hand through her hair.
"Board games!" Belle smiled brightly.
"And some vodka, orange juice, cranberry juice and white wine," held up a bottle and a few small packets. "Hope you have a blender here cause I have some daiquiri mixes too. What's your pleasure?"
"Guys," Chloe began, "I see what you're trying to do and I appreciate it. I do. I really do, but-"
"No buts," Belle scolded.
"Unless we're talking about Brad Pitt's or Orlando Bloom's," Mimi countered.
Chloe laughed, shaking her head. "What am I gonna do with you guys?"
"Play a board game and get very nasty, shit-faced drunk," Mimi laughed.
****************
Three hours later, the three women sat on the floor laughing and carrying on, all three very nasty, shit-faced drunk. They'd decided to play the board game 'Life' but they'd stopped halfway through, neither of them even sober enough to focus on the numbers on the spin dial.
"But I really like cheeseburgers," Belle whined. "I don't know why I bother worrying about my figure. Shawn drinks enough beer. He clearly doesn't care about his."
Mimi nodded in agreement. "I love cheeseburgers, but I don't know. Lately, I've asked for the no cheese cheeseburgers."
"That would be a hamburger, Meems," Belle giggled.
"You're right!" Mimi slapped her own leg and grinned drunkenly. "Which do you prefer Chloe? Chloe?" Both women looked to their friend who sat, her eyes tearing up. That alone was sobering enough for them.
"Chloe what's wrong," Belle cooed.
"Nothing," Chloe felt the tears spill over onto her cheeks. "It's just the cheese and everything." She remembered her conversation with Brady about cheese. "And then the car," she held up the miniature truck playing piece from the game with a little pink pin in the driver's seat representing her, a blue one next to that, her husband, and two blue pins behind, her two little boys. "My biological clock is ticking you know? And I love him and he doesn't like goat cheese and ugh! Brady!" She sobbed and let her head fall in her hands as her shoulders shook with her cries.
"Oh honey," Belle comforted her best friend.
"I'm fine," Chloe tried to calm herself. "I am. I really am. It's just I never wanted this, you know," she held up the little family in the little truck playing piece. "I wanted to work and. . . work and help people and. . . travel the world whenever I wanted. Just get on a plane to Paris or Rome. I never wanted this. Well, I never knew I wanted it anyway. . . until I met him." She began to sob again, both Mimi and Belle trying to ease their best friend's pain.
*************
Chloe awoke on her couch. Peering at the clock, she noted the time. "Four am." She got up, rubbing her face and making her way to the kitchen. Her head was pounding. She hadn't gotten drunk in years. She could remember the first time she did. It was when she'd moved out on her own. Her first night away from home in so long so she took advantage, living it up at a party. She was so drunk she thought she was going to die. When she'd called Craig for help, he simply said: 'Take two aspirins and call me in the morning.'
She chuckled at the memory but regretted it quickly when her head throbbed violently. "I feel like my head's going to fall off." So she pulled down her trusty aspirin from the cabinet and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took her medicine. Something by the phone caught her eye. It was a note from Mimi and Belle. "Were sober enough to call and take a taxi home. Feel better girl. Talk to you tomorrow. Meems and Belle." Chloe grinned. "Well thank God, I'm off today, my head is killing me. . . Six messages. Well, well, well. . . who would have called me? Certainly not Brady." She pressed play.
"Message One."
Nancy's voice filtered through the air. "Chloe honey, it's me, your mom. I have-have-have th- th-th"
"Damn machine!" Chloe cursed and pressed the stop and play buttons a few times, hoping to get it to work when she heard the tape being eaten up inside of the machine. "Ugh!" She ripped open the player and tore the eaten up tape out, throwing it in the trashcan by the desk. "Damn ancient machine!" She threw the machine out as well. "Never again." Why she never decided to buy an updated answering machine was beyond her. This one had always given her trouble. Well no more. Tomorrow she would go out and buy a new one or maybe she'd just call her phone company and have them set up voice mail for her. "Six lost messages," Chloe sighed. "Oh well, couldn't be anything important." She sauntered to her bedroom, hoping to catch a few more winks before she had to get up and start her day.
TBC. . . Thanks for reading!