"Kasper, the staff will do that. Please sit down, little one. We need to talk," Mr. Hamad said as I stood to clear the dishes after dinner. None of them ever cleared anything. I knew what was coming. He was going to tell me that my parents had finally contacted him and wanted to talk to me. I'd overheard them talking about it when they thought I Was out of the room.
Mr. Hamad was going to make me deal with the reality that I wasn't entirely their boy and I still had a mess back home in California that needed my attention. The Hamads were people who liked to deal with things head on. They would insist.
I'd been avoiding this talk. I knew they'd bring it up when we were all together and they could be there to support me. I wanted to pretend that it hadn't happened, that I could just be here with the Hamads forever. I'd tried to stay out of the way, under the radar hoping they'd forget that I wasn't born into this family.
"I'll help them. I can rinse them off. I'm used to doing chores. I'm pretty good at cleaning the kitchen," I said and tried to walk past him. He reached for me and his hand found the center of my chest. He stopped me, held me there.
"There is no need for that. You will upset the staff if they think we don't need them anymore. Now please sit down," Mr. Hamad said with that fatherly tone of authority. I turned to look at the table. Emerson, Ali, Amir; their eyes were all on me. They all looked sad. I set the plates back down on the table. I wasn't getting out of this.
"What's wrong? It's my parents?" I asked as though I didn't know. I didn't sit down though and instead I let Mr. Hamad draw me into his arms. He was seated on a tall chair, the kind where you put your feet on the bottom bar because they don't reach the floor. He pulled me against his chest and hugged me.
"Yes, my boy. They want to speak with you. You don't have to if you don't want, but I think you should. As much as we love you, if there is hope for reconciliation with your birth family it could help you feel better." Mr. Hamad hugged me against his chest and kissed my forehead.
"Are they still mad at me?" I asked. I didn't feel like getting yelled at by my father.
"I don't think so. They seem to think we are holding you here against your will. I don't know why they think that. We take very good care of you. Maybe they just need to know you are ok. I couldn't tell," he admitted.
"You don't have to talk to them Kasper. We can forget about them. We're your family," Amir chimed in. He looked angry and defensive. I remembered that he objected to this.
"We are you family," Mr. Hamad looked perturbed at Amir's outburst. "And we want what's best for you. If there is a chance for better relations with them, you should try. It could help you. You can't leave things as they are without getting resolution."
"Will you be there with me?" I asked. I didn't want to face him alone.
"I will, of course. I'll be there for you, sweet one," Mr. Hamad assured.
"I will be there too! I'm not letting them hurt him again," Amir said firmly.
"Ok then. He probably feels bad. He isn't bad, he just gets angry. I guess things calmed down," I said. I got a kiss on the head from Mr. Hamad. He almost seemed sad that I was willing to give my dad a chance.
"It will be ok," he said sadly like someone had died. They really thought poorly of my dad. He wasn't that bad a guy.
+++
We set up the laptop at the dining table. Mr. Hamad and Amir sat behind me in the high chairs. Mr. Hamad had been talking to my dad the past few nights to give him updates. He said it was his duty as my caretaker to keep them informed that I was safe and healthy.
He told my dad that I would be there with him when I was ready to talk. Mr. Hamad clicked open a program for video chat that showed the three of us. It looked like I had two Arabian bodyguards for backup.
"Kasper. Where have you been? We've been trying to reach you, but these people are keeping you locked up. Are you ok?" My dad asked with newfound worry when he appeared on the screen. He'd never seemed so concerned about my well being.
"I'm fine, dad. What's up? Where's mom?" I asked. My dad was sitting alone at his desk at work. He looked sleepy in his business uniform. He had his old work shirt with his name sewn on a patch with the Lane Services logo. He was always so proud of having his own company even if it meant a life of hard work.
"She's at home. It's pretty early here. Anyways, Look! We need to talk. Do these men have to be here with you?" he asked gruffly. He didn't like having a watchful eye when he dealt with his own child.
"Kasper asked us to be here," Amir interjected. The screen showed my dad but also a live shot of the three of us in the corner of the screen. Mr. Hamad and Amir didn't look happy. I saw Mr. Hamad put his hand on Amir's arm to quiet him. My dad responded with a grimace.
"Fine. Well look here son. That show you did. Apparently it was a big hit. We're getting calls every day and mail! Tons of mail! Why is it coming here? Some of the letters were pretty graphic! I threw those away! Someone even set up a fund for you online! God knows why but people are donating saying they felt badly you were kicked off so early,!" dad huffed and held a stack of envelopes.
"Sorry. I guess they looked us up. That's the address on my driver's license." I said like I didn't like there anymore. I wondered what had become of my room.
"Well look, most are junk fan letters, but a few caught our eye. There's a modeling scout that called and wrote us. He wants you for some clothing company. Then your mother got a call from that cosmetics and jewelry company she sells for. Remember that? Lucy Beautiful, wants to do a photo spread with you in their fall catalog. They want you to model for their men's line. Your mother is ecstatic! She can't wait to rub it in people's faces," Dad rambled excitedly.
"Then there's a few talent agencies that want to put you on contract. This is big money, Kasper! This could mean a whole new life for you! You don't have much going on so we thought this could be your big break. You have to talk to them!" Dad looked happier than I'd ever seen him. I felt a thump of pride in my chest. He was proud of me. He'd never been proud of me.
"Wow... I don't know what to say!" I felt my pulse racing. Then I felt Amir's hand on my side. He slid it down to my bottom and squeezed it. I couldn't leave him.
