Chapter 7:The Unexpected Moments
"They can send up a crib," Klaus relayed, dropping the receiver below his chin and giving Cami a questioning look. He glanced at Nik and Hope, where they lay sleeping in the middle of the king-sized bed, and then back at her. Can we use a crib?
"They're too big for a crib," she answered, sighing.
Klaus declined the offer and exchanged a few more words with the young woman on the phone before setting the receiver back in its cradle and turning his eyes to Cami. She looked exhausted. And cold. Her clothes and hair were still wet from their trek through the rain, and the room wasn't getting warm yet despite the fact that he'd bumped up the thermostat just before he called downstairs.
"Why don't you go take a hot shower and try to get warm. I'll go down and get our things and we'll figure this out after that, okay?"
She wanted to say no, that they'd figure it out now, but that hot shower sounded too good to refuse. So, instead she said, "Thanks, that'd be great."
He nodded and grabbed his key card off of the desk, heading for the door. "I'll be right back."
Cami took a quick, hot shower, just long enough to warm up and relax so she could, hopefully, get a little sleep. When she was finished, she stepped out of the shower and then realized that she didn't have anything to change into.
She looked heavenward. This night was too much.
Wrapping herself in a fluffy, white towel, she called out softly, so as not to wake the children, "Klaus?"
There was a pause and a muffled shuffling on the other side of the door and then his voice rumbled through, "I'm here. Are you okay?"
She couldn't help the smile that touched her lips at his response.
"I'm fine," she said, cracking the door open, only to find herself face to face with him, looking straight into his blue-green eyes. She was surprised and said nothing for several seconds, and then recovered, saying in a breathy voice, "Can you, um…can you, please, hand me my bag?" She pointed behind him, on the floor. "It's that black one."
Klaus breathed in the warm Camille-scented steam that spilled from the now-open bathroom door. "Sure," he said, turning his back, momentarily, on the tempting sight that stood before him. He grabbed the bag and passed it to her. Cami took it from him, offering him an uncomfortable smile and quickly shutting the door.
She emerged several minutes later, tugging self-consciously at the hem of her navy blue t-shirt. She was painfully aware of how thin the material was and how short her matching, drawstring sleep-shorts were. She hadn't planned on sharing a room with anyone but her kids. She made her way, quickly, to the bed and slid under the covers, pulling them up to her chest.
Klaus watched her burrow under the blankets, seeking safety from his appreciative gaze, no doubt.
Clever girl.
He smiled mildly to himself and then left the room, taking his turn in the small bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, he emerged, clean and warm.
Cami glanced up from her phone when the bathroom door clicked open. She'd been texing Joe, her only real friend in Kavanaugh, making sure things got settled okay at the bar. She'd felt a bit guilty leaving so suddenly, but she knew the little place would carry on just fine without her. There were few other places on Durnigan Island for people to patronize. Joe said things were going fine, but that he missed her. I like my whiskey best served by my Cami-girl, he had said. She was going to miss that sweet, old man. He'd become sort of like family to her over the years.
She became distracted when Klaus exited the bathroom, however. The hand holding her phone dropped into her lap, and her eyes followed him as he crossed the room. He had on a pair of dark gray, low-slung athletic shorts and, Cami was certain, nothing else. His back was to her now, and as he reached for his bag and stuffed his worn clothing inside, she watched the glorious play of muscle beneath skin that occurred along the broad expanse of his shoulders. Cami swallowed, placing her phone on the bedside table and reaching over to turn off the lamp. The room grew dim, now lit only by the lamp on the other bedside table. She watched as he moved to the opposite side of the bed, pausing with one hand on the blankets, waiting for her permission to pull the covers back. A stray drop of water clung tenaciously to his skin and she watched, distractedly, as it meandered down his sculpted chest, past his navel, toward the waistband of his shorts. She cleared her throat and moved her eyes up to meet his. She looked at his hand, where it lightly gripped the blankets, and she hesitated, nervously.
He smiled, wolfishly.
"We have shared a bed before, Camille," he reminded.
As he watched, her cheeks flushed an appealing shade of pink.
"Yes, I'm aware," she said, tightly, sliding down in the bed and closing her eyes.
Taking that as a sign of her resigned acceptance, he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. It wasn't an open-armed welcome by any means, but he'd take it. Besides, he knew he deserved far less.
She felt the bed dip under his added weight, but she kept her eyes firmly closed.
He turned off the other lamp and settled on his side, facing her. Hope and Dominik lay between them, spooned together, Hope's arm slung protectively across her younger brother's shoulder, the boy's small hand holding tightly to one of her fingers, even in his sleep. Klaus wondered, briefly, if Freya might have ever displayed this type of protective tendency toward him had she not been stolen away at such a tender age. Certainly, he remembered feeling the in-born need to defend and protect Rebekah.
Brothers and sisters.
Fathers and daughters.
He suddenly felt the weight of all the questionable decisions, the mistakes, he'd made over the years regarding his family…and a crushing pressure to get it right from now on.
He sighed.
He glanced back at Cami and found her watching him, her eyes suspiciously shiny in the low light.
His mood had shifted, dramatically, from his playful teasing of moments ago, and she appeared to have sensed that. How she always seemed to see right to the heart of him, baffled him. It was why he had compelled her to listen to him for all those months under the guise of writing his memoirs. She had this sort of natural insight into his psyche. She saw him in a way that no one else ever had.
She continued to watch him, unblinking, and he found himself speaking to her, openly, as he had during those months when she'd acted as his therapist and stenographer.
"I'm tired," he whispered.
She knew he didn't mean physically tired. He was as emotionally exhausted as she was.
"I know," she whispered back. "Me too."
He cast his eyes down. He knew that most every tragedy in her life could be traced directly, or at least indirectly, back to him, starting with Kieran's death, and ending with the complicated situation they now found themselves in regarding Hope.
He heard the blankets rustle, softly, and looked up. Cami's hand hovered there in the darkness just above the blankets, reaching for his.
He swallowed the thousand apologies on his tongue and, silently, took her hand.
They stayed that way for a long time…both of them staring, wordlessly, at the other through the darkness, their joined hands resting on the children sleeping, peacefully, between them.
Klaus's thumb stroked a light rhythm along the tender skin of Cami's inner wrist, unconsciously, keeping perfect time with the steady beat of her heart.
Until, finally, they slept.
Klaus woke to a swift, sharp kick to the mid-section, blessedly, though narrowly, north of vital territory. He blinked several times, allowing his eyes to focus, before recalling where, and more importantly, with whom, he was. He raised his head and looked around. He found Hope sleeping on top of the blankets, her head resting on what appeared, through the comforter, to be Cami's thigh and her feet resting against his abdomen.
He looked over at Cami. She was on her back, with Nik asleep on her chest, his arms and legs on either side of her torso and his cheek resting just over her heart. She had one hand on his back and the other on Hope's shoulder.
On a whim, he grabbed his phone off of the nightstand behind him and snapped a picture of the scene.
Nik stirred on his mother's chest and Klaus shoved the phone under his pillow lest he be caught red handed, snapping pictures of the sleeping trio. Nik began to rise and, as Klaus watched, he jammed his tiny elbow into Cami's ribs whilst searching for leverage to get up. Klaus reached toward the boy, helplessly, but too late. Cami's eyes flew open.
"Dominik!" she hissed, half-rising from her resting place, and lifting him into a sitting position. "Be careful with your bony elbows, son." She flopped back onto her pillow.
The boy laughed, sleepily. "I sowwy." He leaned down and kissed her lips, sweetly. "I sowwy, Mama."
"That's okay, baby," she said, smiling, eyes still closed.
The boy was sitting on her abdomen now, legs straddling her sides. "I not hurt you," he said.
Klaus watched as the boy gently patted his mother's breast, just above the spot in her ribs that he had inadvertently assaulted moments before. "Mama, I not hurt you," he said again, insistently.
She laughed, opening her eyes and looking at him. "You didn't?"
"No."
She laughed again and reached up to cup his cheeks with both hands, shaking her head. "I love you."
The boy grinned and smiled adoringly at Cami. "I luh you," he replied and kissed her again, this time on the nose.
Klaus watched the whole exchange, silently, enjoying the unguarded moment between mother and son.
Eventually, Hope began to stir, stretching and yawning, and, finally, sitting up between them.
"Good morning, baby," Cami said to the girl.
"Good morning, Mama," she replied. And then, to Klaus, she said, "You sleeped with us?"
He looked at Cami, panic-stricken.
She motioned toward the child, nodding her assent. Go ahead, answer her.
Hesitantly, he nodded at Hope. "I did. There were no more beds in the hotel, so we all had to share this one. Is that okay?"
Hope nodded, looking pleased. "No one ever sleeped with us before!"
Klaus looked at Cami, unsure what to say in response to that.
She seemed at a loss for words as well.
They needn't have worried.
"When we get to Norlens, you can sleep in Mommy's bed 'cause me and Nik have kid beds and you're too big for 'em," Hope announced, helpfully.
Klaus laughed out loud at that and grinned broadly at Cami, noting the appealing blush spreading across her cheeks.
Cami interceded. "Honey, it's New Orleans," she corrected, enunciating the words. "And, remember, we won't have our stuff there. We'll be staying at Klaus's house."
"Oh," said Hope, thoughtfully. Then, to Klaus, she said, "Will we all sleep with you then?"
"Okay," Cami broke in before anyone else could say anything else about beds or sleeping arrangements. "Klaus's house has plenty of space, we'll all have beds to sleep in, so let's worry about that when we get there okay? Oh, hey…speaking of which, we better get up and get on the road or we're never going to get there!"
Not wasting another moment, she practically sprang from the bed and started digging through bags and pulling out clothes for herself and the children. There was a flurry of activity in the form of hair brushing and teeth brushing and the eating of breakfast bars that had magically appeared from somewhere.
A little while later, Klaus sat watching the three of them hand garments back and forth in some sort of clothing negotiation ritual. In her rush to get the children ready, and avoid Hope's interesting commentary, Cami seemed to have forgotten that she was still in her sleepwear. She sat there on the floor next to the bed, completely relaxed, trading jeans for dresses, the blue sweater for the green one, and mismatched socks for ones that matched. She looked up at him and rolled her eyes, exaggeratedly, at something Hope had said. Can you believe this kid? She smiled, shaking her head, and he smiled back at her, sharing the moment.
A moment between parents.
Can you believe our kid? She's so funny.
It was just a normal moment of a day in the life of their family…and for a few precious seconds, he was a part of it, no questions asked.
I could get used to this, he thought, but did not say.