Kasper's Prince Charming

Chapter 26 - Kasper & His Father

"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. They had a house staff that seemed to intimately know their daily schedule and needs.

I knew what was coming. Mr. Hamad 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 thought maybe they would forget about my embarrassing family.

"I'll help them. I can rinse them off. I'm used to doing chores. I'm pretty good at cleaning the kitchen and I should start to help out around here. Gotta earn my keep, sir!" 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 keep to earn, my boy. There is no need for that. You will upset the staff if they think we don't need them anymore. They are very well treated. Now please sit down. You are a tough butterfly to pin," 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 like an intervention was coming.

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? What did they do now? I don't even want to know. Do I have to?" I asked as though I didn't know. I was rambling and my heart was pounding.

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. It could also hurt worse. I cannot make this choice for you." Mr. Hamad hugged me against his chest and kissed my forehead.

"Are they still mad at me? I hate when they're 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. They didn't give me much information," he admitted.

"You don't have to talk to them Kasper. We can all forget about them. We're your family," Amir chimed in. He looked angry and defensive. I remembered that he objected to this.

"We are your 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. You come from them and I don't want to rob you of a chance to heal."

"What if they just want to yell? 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.