THE FAMILY PORTRAIT
As pleased as Clarice was to have her friends visit, she was equally pleased to have them leave.
Hannibal waited dutifully behind his wife as their guests departed. Because he was standing in the doorway, he held the baby to his chest with his son's face nestled against his neck, Hannibal's large hand carefully cupping the baby's head to shield him from the cameras outside.
Swarmed with photographers barking questions, the visitors moved quickly to their cars serpentining through the people amassed to see the baby. Barney ducked swiftly into his sedan astutely avoiding the pressing crowd. Logan, on the other hand, waved enthusiastically as people shouted their questions. Barney rolled his eyes. It was obvious to all concerned Logan loved the attention.
Barney laughed as he drove off.
Well at least he didn't act a fool 'til he got outside.
An attractive female journalist following the story thrust a microphone in Logan's face. He turned, recognizing her as a reporter for a local news affiliate.
The reporter, seeing the glimmer of recognition in Logan's eyes, smiled widely to entice an answer as she questioned, "Who are you, Sir? Did you see the baby?"
"What baby?" Logan teased as he closed the car door he now habitually held for Ardelia. Without pausing he walked briskly around the back of his car to the driver's side of the vehicle.
The reporter followed him closely, microphone still extended as she jogged around the car to keep up with Logan's much longer stride.
The amiable agent turned and with a casual snap of his head whipped his wavy hair back from his face as he opened the driver's side door. Realization dawning he paused standing beside the open car door and asked," How do you know about a baby anyway? Hannibal and Clarice never announced it?"
The reporter, seeking information of her own, offered some in return, "A birth certificate was filed with the Bureau of Vital Statistics. Whom does he look like, Sir?"
Logan answered in his typically playful fashion, "What's with the Sir, crap? I'm no Sir I'm the baby's uncle and I don't know who he looks like, I only know he sure as hell doesn't look like me!"
Knowing both Hannibal and Clarice had no known living relatives and thinking she had uncovered a story, the woman pressed for details, "You're the baby's uncle? Are you related to Clarice, or Hannibal?"
Logan's already massive chest puffed with pride.
"Clarice helped train me at the FBI and Hannibal is my brother from another mother. That makes me the baby's uncle!"
The woman realized Logan was ratings gold if she could get him to talk.
"So, you're close with the couple?"
Logan was indignant thinking anyone would question his closeness with the family.
"I was inside wasn't I? I held the baby, did you? Hell yes, I'm close with them. They're awesome and you can tell everyone that watches your show that baby's got the best parents in the world. He's a lucky little guy."
Experience pressing her to continue, she probed, "Can you tell us anything? Does he have his father's eyes?"
Ardelia leaned across the front seat, curled her thumb and index finger, placed them within her mouth and expressed a quick burst of air. This created an ear-piercing whistle. The moment she had her boyfriend's attention she insisted,"Logan, close your mouth, stop playing around and get in the car…now!"
Logan shuddered visibly the moment he noticed Ardelia glaring at him. Taking the hint, he stepped into the car turned to the reporter just before he closed the car door and answered, "You want to know what color the baby's eyes are?"
The reporter reacted with obvious interest, "Yes, I would love to know!"
Pulling the door closed he offered, "Then go knock on the door and ask his father."
As he pulled away from the curb Logan was forced to weave attempting to avoid hitting the reporters, paparazzi, and curiosity seekers. He beeped the horn, stuck his muscular arm out of the sunroof and waved as he drove down the street.
Clarice stood in the doorway laughing at Logan's antics. "That boy is a bit touched in the head. A real character, wouldn't you say, H?"
"Touched? Grabbed is more like it, and yes, he is a character, but more to the point, he has character. Logan is loyal and that is rare." Hannibal kissed his wife on top of her head.
"Clarice, I'll handle the dishes if you'll mind the baby."
Leaning her head against his chest for a moment she responded, "Seems like I got the better of that deal, H."
Resting his cheek on the top of her head he spoke very softly. "As planned, yes. You deserve time with the baby, Clarice. I don't believe Ardelia released the child for more than a minute the entire duration of her visit."
Clarice wrapped her arms around her husband, looked into his eyes and smiled.
"She gave him up just long enough to hand him to Logan. Did you see the panic in his eyes? It was priceless."
Hannibal was obviously in full agreement. He concurred, "Did you see how quickly I removed our son from his tentative grasp? I was concerned in his panic he might drop him. I believe their relationship is about to enter another phase, whether or not our friend, Mr. Marley is prepared."
Clarice rubbed a hand on the baby's back as she spoke, "Yeah, well, if Logan can't hear her biological clock ticking he's even more deaf than he is dense."
The producer stepped forward with her clipboard, waving a tentative hand to get Clarice's attention. She spoke very quietly trying not to be impolite as she interrupted.
"Excuse me, we've got several points to go over so if either one, or both of you have a few minutes we would benefit from a brief meeting."
Seeking a quick exit, Hannibal kissed his wife and handed her the baby.
"I'm certain you can handle this without my input, Clarice. I'll be in the kitchen should you need me." He turned to the producer and nodded an acknowledgement, "If you'll excuse me, I shall leave your concerns in my wife's capable hands."
One camera followed Clarice. One camera followed Hannibal.
Wasting no time, Clarice spoke as she walked with the producer toward the formal living room. She was direct in her questioning, "So, what's up? You've obviously got something on your mind."
Appreciating Clarice's straightforward nature she spoke, "We'd like to take a formal photo of the family. We'll put it out as the official portrait tomorrow, so the Tattler will lose the hopes of publishing the first photos so the crowds outside should disperse. Would your husband agree to sit?"
Clarice was confident in her response.
"Sure, he'll agree. When do you want to do this?"
"If you're sure we'd like to do this as soon as possible."
Clarice considered the needs of her family before responding, "Well, the baby needs to eat, and I'm sure Hannibal will want to shower. Why don't we say two hours from now? That way, Hannibal will be ready and the baby will have had a nap. You won't get much of a photo if the baby is crying."
Checking a list of proposed shots the producer assessed, "Sure…that'd be great."
Rocking back and forth as she cuddled her child, Clarice watched the woman carefully as she considered, "Did you have anything in mind? Setting? Clothing?"
The producer stood for a moment and debated. She then shook her head, hugged the clipboard to her chest and decided, "I'll leave that for you and Doctor Lecter. It's your family portrait, so, you two should decide what it's going to look like. You have final approval over the images anyway."
"I'll talk to H and see what his opinion is."
Clarice walked around the lower level of the home but her husband was nowhere to be found. She went to the second floor and was directed by the cameraman to their bathroom. She knocked on the door.
"Hey, H? Are you decent?"
"That depends on to whom you speak, Clarice. I am clothed, though I would have allowed you entrance regardless."
Seeing he was nodding off in her arms, Clarice set the baby in his crib and opened the bathroom door.
"What's going on H?"
Hannibal was seated on the toilet, the cover having been closed.
"Nothing, Clarice, why do you ask?"
"Because I looked all over the house for you and I find you in the bathroom but you aren't using the toilet and you're not showering."
Hannibal put his arms around his wife, opened his legs and pulled her down gently guiding her to sit on his lap. He kissed her tenderly before answering, "It's your fault, my Love."
"Clarice sought his lips and kissed him. The kiss began tentatively, each partner briefly touching their lips to the other. They parted for a moment leading Clarice to question for clarity, "How's that?"
Wrapping his arms around his wife he hugged her tightly as he answered, "You specified the bathrooms as the only camera free zone, therefore, as I wanted a moment that was not being recorded, I sought refuge in the only area designated as such."
Clarice tried to hide her amusement, but to no avail. She laughed as she questioned, "So, you've just been sitting in the bathroom?"
Nodding as he rested his head on her breasts, Hannibal responded, "Yes. Does that thought amuse you, Clarice?"
"I don't know. Seems a bit funny…I…mean, it's a bathroom."
"It is a bathroom with a door, Clarice. If you remember the accommodations provided me by Doctor Chilton the placement of my toilet was a mere arm's length from my bed in front of a rather large window. You can trust my honesty when I say if he believed I might have need of that toilet, dear Freddie rather enjoyed inviting people to the viewing area. I spent more than eight years of my life without benefit of a privacy shade or divider, therefore, I am not ashamed to say that I value time spent in a bathroom with a door."
No longer laughing as she considered the insensitive nature of the comment, Clarice was penitent. "Sorry, H…that should've dawned on me."
No where near as affected by the comment as Clarice, Hannibal reproached, "My Love, you needn't apologize."
"Still, I do that all the time…"
Hannibal insisted, "Clarice, there is no need. You sought me out with a purpose, yes?"
Realizing she had gone fully off the track, Clarice explained, "The producer wants a family portrait, so I thought we could shower and dress while the baby takes his nap. I just have no idea what we should wear."
"You purchased a very handsome linen outfit for Devyni and I have a linen suit that is very similar."
Clarice was unenthused, "So you two will look spectacular and I wear what?"
"The MaxMara Nehru dress I purchased for you at Saks Fifth Avenue. It would pair nicely with my suit."
"Oh my God, I've been pregnant so long I forgot all about that dress. Do you think it will fit?"
"I'm certain of it. When I made the purchase online I was careful to order the dress slightly larger to accommodate the post-delivery time period; I wanted you to have something lovely to wear after the birth. I understand how you must feel with your body undergoing such transition."
Clarice put her arms around her husband.
"That's what I love about you H…you buy a woman a fat dress and you make her feel good about wearing it. That's a rare gift!"
"Trust me, Clarice. There is nothing fat about you, and I assure you, I will find you as attractive wearing that dress as I find you wearing nothing at all. As to any potential gifts I might posses, the formation of my family is that gift."
As she had stated many times before, whenever Hannibal did something particularly thoughtful Clarice stated simply, "You're a smart man, Hannibal Lecter."
Hannibal's answer, as always, "One tries, my Love."
Hannibal showered and dressed while Clarice fed the baby. When she finished, she retired to the bathroom to shower leaving Hannibal the task of washing and dressing his son.
One cameraperson followed Hannibal to the baby's room and filmed as the protective father set his baby down in the crib; his eyes ever watchful that no one attempt to approach the boy. When the producer sought a better angle and moved too close to the crib for Hannibal's comfort he turned quickly, his eyes hawk-like as he zoned in on the woman. His eyes flashed a warning, though his features appeared unchanged. Unwilling to tempt fate or his wrath, the woman swiftly backed off.
Feeling secure, Hannibal retrieved the small infant bathtub from the bathroom and filled it with warm water placing the small vessel on the baby's changing table.
Preparing to bathe his son, Hannibal removed his jacket, vest and shirt, hanging all on a hanger and placing the garments on a hook in the baby's closet. From the waist up he wore now wore a tank style tee shirt so as not to rumple his clothing for the photo shoot.
Walking over to the crib, Hannibal removed the baby's clothing, wrapped him in a towel and carried him to the bath. Very smoothly he turned the baby onto his forearm supporting the head at the bend of his elbow, removing the towel. Turning his son gently, the careful dad tested the water with his elbow. Confirming the safety, he very gently set the boy in the water. Washing the baby carefully, Hannibal smiled as Devyni splashed the water, flinching as he splattered his own face from the back-splash.
"This is much more comfortable than a copper basin warming in the sun, yes, Little One?"
As he lovingly washed his son, Hannibal hummed Vivaldi. The moment seemed calm, still, he was anything but. Though there was no threat perceived, no sense of foreboding of any kind, his home was filled with strangers and that kept him alerted.
From his periphery Hannibal could see the boom operator catch the eye of the producer and arch his eyebrows in surprise. It was obvious to Hannibal they were caught off-guard by his paternal tenderness.
Though the production staff often spoke to Clarice as they filmed, they rarely addressed Hannibal. With the respectful trepidation of admiring a predator in its natural habitat, they observed him silently.
The baby bathed, Hannibal spread his large hand and tipped the boy forward onto his palm supporting his son's ribs and abdomen lifting him just enough to wrap the towel around him. He then turned him over carefully supporting the head and neck as he carried him to the crib.
Clarice stood in the doorway, placing her fingers to her lips so the crew wouldn't alert her husband to her presence.
Hannibal placed the baby within the crib and paused. His body straightened, though he didn't speak.
The producer gripped the arm of the camera operator signaling not to miss the shot.
Hannibal stiffened as his nostrils flared, his back turned as he spoke, "Still playing games I see, my Love."
Clarice rushed into the room and put her arms around her husband, resting her head on his back as he finished dressing their son.
"No, not playing games, H…just admiring you with your son."
Hannibal lifted his son holding the now fully dressed boy to his chest and turned his body into his wife's embrace. Clarice took the baby and kissed her husband.
Adamantly correcting his wife for the camera Hannibal stressed, "Our son, Clarice."
"Sorry…of course, our son, H. As much as it pains me to see you putting clothing on instead of taking it off, you'd better finish dressing so we can get this portrait out of the way."
"Of course, whatever you say, Clarice."
Hannibal opened the closet and dressed himself in full view of the camera. It was no matter to him. He had lived under far more scrutiny and had been viewed with far less clothing. The cameras were something to be used rather than anything else.
Clarice carried the baby as she and Hannibal walked to the living room escorted by the film crew. Hannibal walked very closely beside his wife, his hand settled protectively on the gentle curve of the small of her back; his eyes everywhere as he perused the crew. Continually assessing for danger with his senses, his nostrils occasionally flared, drawing in the air, testing.
No danger…all is well.
The producer moved around the room, sliding a chair into the center of the space.
"Okay. We thought you might want a classic pose. Maybe Clarice can sit on the chair holding the baby and Doctor Lecter can stand beside the chair."
Hannibal shook his head and spoke, "Please allow me." He led Clarice join him. He took the baby and turned him in her arms so his head was cradled in the crook of her elbow facing out toward the camera.
"Put your right hand on my chest, Clarice and look toward the camera."
Clarice placed her hand on the center of her husband's chest, just over his heart.
Hannibal wrapped his arms protectively around his wife, embracing her.
"When you are ready," he stated indicating this was the pose he favored.
The photographer stepped forward to capture the moment. Hannibal rested his cheek on Clarice's head and looked at the camera, his eyes flashing as the shutter released.
The producer looked over to the photographer who was smiling widely.
"It's perfect…it's absolutely perfect."
The producer rushed to look at the viewfinder and review the captured image. When the photo streamed across the screen, the woman smiled as well.
"We won't be needed anything else. This will make the Tattler scream with envy. Care to take a look, Clarice? Hannibal?"
"Clarice is responsible for such decisions." He turned to his wife, "Clarice, if you approve, I should like to spend some time in the music room."
Clarice looked at the image and back to her husband.
"Go play piano, H…we're done here."
Hours later, Hannibal and Clarice were sleeping soundly in their bedroom. As agreed, the camera operators and production staff waited for the baby to wake for his nighttime feeding to capture it on video. The moment the baby began to cry, a female camera operator, and the producer entered the bedroom quietly and began filming.
Hannibal stirred first, placing a hand on Clarice's shoulder indicating he would bring the baby to her. Normally sleeping unclothed, for the benefit of the cameras Hannibal wore a pair of silk pajama bottoms, though he remained shirtless. He rose from the bed, scrubbing his hand vigorously through his hair, seeking to shake sleep from his mind.
In his sleep, the baby spit up on his pajama, so Hannibal quickly removed the clothing and changed the baby's diaper. He then carried his son to Clarice wearing no more than his diaper, planning to dress the baby in fresh clothing the moment his was finished feeding.
Hannibal noticed Clarice wore a silk nightgown with spaghetti straps. The nightgown would provide little warmth.
"The fabric of your sleepwear will not warm our Little One. Keep him against your bare body, my Love. That will provide enough heat for his body as he feeds. I'll dress him again when he's finished at your breast."
Hannibal placed the baby in his wife's arms and lowered the strap of her negligee. He then gathered his wife in his embrace, pulling her close. Clarice cuddled against her husband, using his bicep as her pillow, her bare flesh melding against his their combined body heat keeping their child warm.
Clarice held the baby against her body, snuggling with Hannibal to provide extra warmth. Hannibal fell asleep holding his wife in his arms as their child nursed at her breast.
The photographer captured this moment of intimacy as mother tenderly nursed her child at her bare breast wrapped safely within her husband's loving embrace.
This would be the portrait distributed for publication.
Clarice approved.
Until the next chapter my friends,
LH