Chapter 8
MITCHELL
I’d heard stories about people looking into the eyes of their newborn and feeling that instant connection, and even once watched a show where people who adopted older kids talked about seeing some kid for the first time and falling into instant love and how they knew, on a visceral level, that the kid was meant to be theirs.
I’d thought it was a load of bunk because if it were true, why hadn’t my grandmother forged that connection with me?
I was her blood, after all. There was no other explanation for this, though.
I heard the kid’s high-pitched voice and looked up.
His dark brown eyes met mine and they were filled with concern and sympathy.
I felt drawn into their depths, a strange pull tugging at my soul.
Then he offered me his stuffed Stitch and a hug and that was it, I was a goner.
I knew then exactly what all those parents were talking about and the feeling only intensified as I felt his thin little arms wrap around me.
I hugged him back, lifting him onto my lap.
It was only once he was there that I remembered the reason for his appearance and looked up to find Mr. Tall Dark And Handsome Alien standing there watching us with a small, pleased smile upon his lips.
I cleared my throat. “Uh, hi.”
“Hello, Mitchell. His hugs are magical, are they not? I always feel happy whenever he gifts me with one.”
I felt immensely relieved that he wasn’t pissed at me just picking his kid up and having a cuddle. But then, I was also now the kid’s dad, so I suppose that was logical. “Sorry for the, you know.” I swallowed nervously. “I was not expecting to be matched.”
He nodded, stepping closer. “Truthfully, I was not either, at least, not for a long time. It was a shock to one minute to be cooking breakfast for the two of us and then finding out we were now three.”
My cheeks pinked in embarrassment. “I bet you didn’t have a panic attack like I just did, though. Plus, it looks like I got the better end of the deal.”
“Ah, with the free education?”
“Um, no, I’d have gotten that even if I didn’t get a match. I meant that I got you and you’re all like that,” I gestured from his head to his feet with one hand, not letting go of the boy who was still hugging me, “and you got me.” I grimaced.
He blinked, looking confused. “You say that as if that is a bad thing.”
I stared at him. Was he even for real? Then again, I was sitting down with the kid on my lap, so he couldn’t see my lardy thighs, dumpy butt, and the soft paunch of my belly.
Though to be honest, I would have thought he’d have understood that just his face alone was much handsomer than mine. “Have you seen yourself?” I ask him.
Comprehension lit his features. “You believe I am better looking than you?”
“Well, duh. And before you ask, no, I won’t have my stomach stapled and I’m not going on some crazy diet or becoming a gym rat. I’ve always been built this way and I already take some care to not go too crazy with the fried food and junk.”
He looked aghast. “If you’re healthy, why would someone ask you to staple part of your body or deny yourself sustenance, even if it is of a treat variety?”
My heart warmed towards him immediately.
“Have you eaten enough breakfast?” he asked me suddenly. “Neal and I put aside ours in case you wished to join us for French toast.”
My mouth watered. I had eaten more than enough, but the thought of French toast was a temptation indeed. Neal loosened his grip on me to sit up. He cupped my cheek with one small, warm hand. “We gots bacon and it’s nice and crispy and there’s maple syrup, even!”
“No strawberries?” I asked. The diner scattered a few slices of strawberry across theirs, along with powdered sugar.
Neal looked at his other dad. Gah! That felt weird, but good, thinking that. His other dad, because I was one of two and it felt more right by the second.
Jolar smiled, the warmth of it reaching his eyes and caressing me as much as it did our son. It was a look I’d dreamed of my whole life, for someone to look at me with such joy and with an offering of genuine affection. It made my earlier plans feel like a mirage of what happiness would be.
“I can make sure we have strawberries and anything else you might wish with yours,” he replied.
“Yay!” Neal crowed. “So you’ll have some with us?” he asked, peering into my eyes up close, his nose touching mine as if that would influence my decision even more.
“Sure, but after what I’ve had already, I probably won’t want any lunch,” I laughed.
“We can have an early dinner,” Jolar said.
“Can we watch Lilo and Stitch again?” Neal begged.
From the look on Jolar’s face, this must be Neal’s favorite movie and they’d watched it several times I surmised.
“You know, I have to confess, I’ve never seen it,” I admitted.
Jolar gave a nod. “Then we shall watch it again tonight, but no pizza!” He sighed and explained, “We had pizza last night as we watched it.”
Anything would be better than the bologna sandwich I’d had planned for tonight. That reminded me. “I need to clear a few things out of my house and be around to show it to potential renters. Is that going to be a problem?”
Jolar glanced over at Quandar. “We can send someone over to remove items he lists and send them up or otherwise deal with them as he requests. We can also arrange for someone to show the house and vet tenants,” Quandar said with a small smile.
“Wait, I can’t do it myself?”
Quandar looked at me with regret. “The regulations state that you must go join your mate aboard the Fleet, and only after completing your full bond can you return.”
Full bond? My cheeks burned upon realizing what he meant. Me and Mr. Hunky Alien over there had to do the horizontal tango before they’d let me come back down. Still, I had been considering getting a realtor anyway, but if they wanted to do it instead, it would be one less thing to stress about.
“Fine,” I said, giving in. “I was going to scrub down the cabinets today and add the liner paper to the shelves. Can they also do that?”
Jolar tilted his head at me. “This is your former home you are seeking to let others pay you to live in?”
“Yeah, why?”
He looked at Quandar. “The entire building and its environs can be checked over to make certain all is well, can it not?”
“It shall be done.”
Whoa! These guys were going to do a proper home inspection and everything? Score!
Quandar looked over at me. “What do you need us to ship to you?”
I flushed. “Just the clothes I still have in the closet in my old room and um, you can go ahead and donate the sleeping bag and stuff. There’s a little bit of food in the fridge you can also send up.
” I hated wasting food, having grown up with having to stretch things the last few days of the month.
I didn’t give a rat’s ass if they thought it was weird that I wanted half a package of Awesome Value baloney and a few pieces of bread sent up.
“Anything else, just donate if it's usable.” I knew the plastic tumblers and plates and cutlery were and no doubt Jolar had much better ones already.
No need to add my mismatched junk and add weight to their payload.
“Noted,” Quandar said. “I’ll have someone get right on it.”
Jolar held out his hand to Neal, who jumped down off of my lap and ran over to him to take it. I immediately felt bereft, a feeling that did not go away until Neal grinned over at me.
“Come on, Papa,” he said. My heart swelled then, as Jolar reached his other hand out to me.
I got up and took it, feeling as if they both saw me and not just the too-pale, chubby, awkward carrot top everyone else did.
Jolar twined his fingers with mine and gave them a reassuring squeeze.
His hand was slightly sweaty and I knew then that he, too, felt nervous.
That made everything feel even better. I gave his hand a squeeze back, letting him know we’d be okay.
We’d get to know each other and together, we’d build something beautiful.