Chapter 5:The Prodigal Father
a/n: Again, thank you all so much for the amazing reviews! I appreciate each and every one and each follow and favorite, but a couple of those reviews really blew me away! Anyway, as promised two weeks ago...here's chapter 5. Hope you enjoy it!
"Mama," she felt more than heard the tiny whisper against her ear.
"Hmm?" she asked, stretching, languidly.
"Mama, he in here," came the whisper again; then louder, in full voice, "He in here, Mama."
Cami's eyes flew open, and she sat upright in bed.
Klaus stood just inside her bedroom door, leaning casually against the door frame.
She pulled Nik onto her lap, unsure of whether it was to protect the child or to shield herself from Klaus's appraising stare. She was modestly dressed, in a t-shirt and sleep shorts, but still she felt exposed, vulnerable. Her heart beat swiftly, and she struggled to clear the fog of sleep from her brain.
Klaus took in the pair before him.
Cami was barely awake, her eyes soft and hair still mussed from sleep. She wore a thin gray t-shirt that accentuated more than hid what he knew lay just beneath the faded cotton. Her slender arms cradled the young boy to her torso, protectively. The child was sturdy and blond; a handsome little chap. In Klaus's mind, he looked a lot like Cami.
As he watched, her arms slowly relaxed their hold on the boy. Her palms came to rest on his tiny shoulders, and she pressed her lips to his temple. "Nik, this is my friend, Klaus," she said, quietly to the boy. And then to Klaus, "Klaus, this is…my son, Dominik."
She hesitated at the word my, and Klaus pretended not to notice.
"Can you say hi, Nik?"
"I say hi," Nik replied, matter-of-factly.
"You did?" she asked, surprised.
"Yes, we've met, haven't we?" Klaus said, smiling at the boy.
She narrowed her eyes. "Did you compel my son?" she asked, only partly joking.
"Not necessary, love. He's a friendly little fellow…let me right in once I explained that we were old friends," he assured, smiling broadly.
Cami tried not to freak out about the fact that her "stranger danger" talks had clearly fallen on deaf ears, and instead focused on the fact that Klaus was standing in her bedroom, looking as though he felt right at home there.
"I know you're anxious to spend time with Hope, but would it have killed you to call and give me a heads up that you were on your way over?"
"I told you last night that I'd be back today," he reminded.
"I hungry, Mama," Nik interrupted, placing his chubby little hands on either of Cami's cheeks and moving his face directly in front of hers.
Cami laughed, indulgently. "You are?" she asked.
The boy nodded, emphatically.
"Okay, buddy, let's get you some breakfast," she replied, lifting the child until he had both feet planted firmly on the mattress. Nik balanced carefully on the bed's soft surface and waited patiently for Cami to get to her feet. Once she was standing, he lifted his arms toward her, expectantly.
Klaus watched Cami swing the boy easily onto one hip, as though she'd done it a thousand times. He realized, somberly, that she had. Suddenly, he could see her so clearly in his mind's eye, holding Hope in the same position, while her once-flat abdomen struggled to make room for new life. Her belly would have been full and round, and his daughter would have placed her hands there, intrigued by the feel of her brother moving in his mother's womb.
"Klaus?" she called his name for what must have been the second time. "Are you okay? I asked if you wanted some coffee."
He shook himself, clearing the beautiful, yet painful, image from his mind. "That would be lovely, thank you."
She looked at him questioningly, but nodded and led the way out of the bedroom.
He followed her down the hall, listening to Nik chatter and watching as the boy twisted his pudgy fist into the soft, blonde waves that fell between Cami's shoulder blades. The child worried the silky locks between his thumb and fingers and chatted happily about what type of cereal he wanted for breakfast.
They stopped at another bedroom door, one he already knew belonged to his daughter.
"Are you ready for this?" Cami asked, looking at him over her shoulder.
Yes and no, he thought, but nodded his head anyway.
Cami pushed through the partially open door.
"Hope," she called, softly. "It's time to wake up, baby." She looked back at Klaus, her eyes weary. "There's someone here I want you to meet." She sat down on the edge of the bed, balancing Nik on her knees. "Hope," she whispered, pulling back the lilac covered bedspread to reveal the tiny girl that lay beneath it. "Wake up, sweet girl," she encouraged, leaning down to kiss the apple of Hope's rosy, sleep-warmed cheek.
Klaus watched the child stir and roll onto her back. He watched her smile sleepily, eyes still closed. "G'morning, Mama," she yawned, stretching.
"Good morning, sweetheart," Cami replied, glancing nervously at Klaus. "Hey, there's someone here I want you to meet, okay?"
The girl sat up, rubbing her eyes and blinking away sleep. Once she managed to get both eyes open and focused, she looked expectantly at Cami, and then, almost immediately, her eyes moved to Klaus.
Her hair was blonde, though not sandy like Nik's. It was a few shades darker, more honey-colored. It would probably be dark like Hayley's someday. Her eyes were the same blue-green as his though. As he stood taking in her features, he watched as she turned her eyes back to Cami, expectantly.
"Hope, this is Klaus." Cami brushed her fingers along Hope's forehead, tucking her wispy, golden locks behind her ear. "Do you remember who Klaus is?"
Klaus looked at Cami, confused. Of course the child couldn't possibly remember him, but as he opened his mouth to question Cami's words, he saw Hope nod her head.
"Klaus is my daddy," she answered, matter-of-factly.
All the air suddenly left the room. Klaus struggled to breathe.
"That's right, he's your daddy," Cami confirmed, nodding. Her eyes moved to Klaus's. "He loves you very much, and he's come a very long way to see you."
His eyes held hers, and he tilted his head in question.
"She asked about her dad a few months ago," she shrugged, helplessly. "I remembered Hope's father…just like you asked me to, I guess. Not specific memories, but…your face, your name." The fact that I loved you, she added, silently, to herself. "I told her you loved her, but you'd had to go far away and couldn't be with us. She was satisfied with that, so we left it there."
He swallowed, hard.
His eyes returned to his daughter, and she smiled at him, shyly.
His heart hurt. It was a bittersweet ache.
He knelt down beside the bed, taking Cami's hand and squeezing it reassuringly.
"Hello, little one," he said, softly, to the girl. He gave her his most charming smile and then laughed, completely beguiled, when she all but batted her lashes in response.
"She's learned from the best, I see?" Klaus teased, turning his smile toward Cami.
She chuffed out a soft chuckle in response.
"Do you want to get up and have some breakfast, Hope?" Cami asked, extracting her hand from Klaus's and rubbing it, absently, up and down Nik's back as she waited for the girl's answer.
Hope nodded, good naturedly, and stood up on the bed.
Klaus seemed to hesitate, but recovered almost immediately, bowing his head and offering his hand to Hope as though he were a footman helping her exit her royal carriage.
"M'lady…would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to the kitchen?"
Hope giggled and placed her tiny hand in Klaus's much larger one, and he helped her jump easily from her perch on the low-lying twin bed.
The two of them were completely enamored with each other already. Cami released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She was both relieved and heavy-hearted.
She pulled Nik closer to her chest and patted his warm back, comfortingly. Rising to her feet, she plastered on a bright smile and headed toward the door.
"Who wants orange juice with their breakfast?"
Cami dropped the duffel bag she'd been carrying over her shoulder, and it landed with a thud at her feet.
"You may be able to blink yourself home or whatever it is that you do, but the two toddlers and I can't do that. So, if you want us to come with you, we're doing this the normal way."
He gave her a look.
"Fine," he conceded. "But do we really need all of this?" he asked, gesturing to the large mound of child-related paraphernalia piled haphazardly in the entryway.
"Car seats? Clothes?" she asked, sarcastically. "Yes, Klaus, we really need all of this."
"What about this?" he asked, incredulously, pointing to a bag filled with small toys and handheld games.
"You know I have been doing this parenting thing by myself for the past three years, but you're probably right…I'm sure you know best what we should bring," she tossed over her shoulder, as she headed back into the main part of the house to gather the last of their things.
He shut his mouth, firmly, and picked up the bag of toys.
Breakfast had gone as well as could be expected under the circumstances. Things were understandably strained between he and Cami, but the children had responded to his presence with nothing more than mild curiosity and acceptance. Hope had taken it all in stride; the fact that he was her father, gone and now miraculously returned, was barely a blip on her radar. She was, of course, completely taken with him, though…even he could see that. And the boy…he seemed too young to understand anything more than friend or stranger, scary or not scary. Klaus had, thankfully, somehow fallen into the decidedly Not Scary category. He figured it had much to do with the two ladies of the house and their seemingly easy acceptance of his presence.
Over breakfast Cami had explained to the children that the four of them were going on a trip, back home, to the city they were from. She'd made it sound like a grand adventure, and by the time breakfast was over, the little ones were rushing off, excitedly, to gather all of their most precious treasures to take with them on the trip. The New Orleans she'd painted for them was decidedly different than the reality he and Cami had faced in the past, but it was every bit as magical, and it was the side of the city he hoped they'd come to know and love, as he did.
He tossed the duffel bag Cami had been carrying into the back of the car. Just a few more things to load and they'd be on their way.
Cami hit the station seek button on the center console of the SUV for what had to be the tenth time in as many minutes.
Klaus reached over and hit the power button, causing the static that had been filling the air for the last thirty miles or so to end, abruptly.
She glared at him.
"It's no use, there won't be any decent stations for at least another fifty miles," he said, sensing her look, but not bothering to make eye contact.
"Oh, so you're talking to me now?" she asked, sarcastically.
He gripped the wheel, more tightly. "I was never not talking to you, Camille. I was simply trying to navigate this ridiculously large vehicle, through rush-hour traffic," he responded, referring to the light blue mini-van they were currently occupying. "You were the one that insisted on this odious contraption," he muttered.
"No, no…I said we should fly. You insisted we drive," Cami pointed out. "And this van had the highest safety rating."
"Yes, well, you neglected to inform me that my daughter is deathly afraid of flying and would therefore scream her bloody head off at the sight of an aeroplane," he reminded, mock-sweetly.
"She's not afraid to fly, Klaus. She's never done it before. Like I said at the airport, she was just tired, and it was something new and scary. Once we were onboard and in the air she would've probably fallen asleep within fifteen minutes of take-off."
"The TSA agents who showed up at the gate didn't seem interested in betting on those odds," he grumbled.
"Well, regardless, if we'd stuck it out on the plane we'd be in New Orleans by now. As it stands, we still have two days of driving to do," she pointed out.
Cami glanced in the back seat at her sleeping babies. Hope had cried so hard earlier that her little cheeks remained slightly pink, even now, nearly two hours later. Cami had felt terrible for the girl but had to laugh at the look of horror on Klaus's face in response to the child's complete meltdown. He'd fought many battles in his thousand years, she was sure, but he'd been nearly crippled by the tears of a four-year-old. It was actually very sweet, even though it meant they now had a twenty-seven hour drive ahead of them.
She sighed, anticipating the hours ahead. They'd lived on an island…her kids had rarely experienced a car ride, let alone one that lasted days.
She felt Klaus's hand on her knee and whipped her head toward him.
Her pensive sigh had drawn his attention. He watched her as she watched the children sleep. She looked anxious, protective. His heart gave an odd little lurch, and, almost as if in reflex, his hand reached out, landing on her knee. He felt her muscles jump beneath her skin and watched as her face swung toward him, her eyes wide and slightly startled.
"They'll be fine," he said, attempting to assuage her worry.
She looked doubtful, but she nodded her head, acknowledging the probable truth of his words. The likelihood was that the kids would be fine. They might get bored and fussy, but they'd survive the trip intact. It was she and Klaus she should probably be worried about.
She looked down at his hand, resting possessively on her knee. She watched as he quickly withdrew it, as she knew he would. It was always like that with him.
One step forward…two hundred miles back.
It was why she would keep a tight leash on whatever lingering feelings she had for him. Too much was up in the air right now…too much was so uncertain. And she wasn't the same person she'd been five years ago when she'd met him as a single psych-student-slash-bartender, or even three years ago when she'd known the truth of who he was and entertained the idea that maybe he cared about her just a little…just enough.
She wasn't that girl anymore. She was a mother now, and that had to be her first priority.
She angled her body away from him and pressed her temple against the cold glass of the window, thinking about New Orleans, thinking about home.
Only seventeen-hundred more miles to go.