“You are not wearing boots,” Al said.
“It’s a turn of phrase. Use context clues, babe.”
“Mm. We are in agreement that we shall teach our offspring more than only English, correct?”
“Assuming they’re anything like you, we won’t have a choice. You learned English just by reading my mind for a few seconds. I doubt we’ll have to sit the kids down and teach them their ABCs. Unless, well, unless they take more after me than you. Does that worry you at all? That they might not be as smart as you are?”
Al tilted his head with a furrowed brow. “Are you implying that you are not intelligent, Jude?”
“Well…” Jude gave an awkward half-shrug. He knew he wasn’tstupid, per se, but Lennon had always been the one with the fantastic grades and academic awards, and now Jude was bonded to someone who could read minds, speak ancient Greek because he’d learned it one day while bored, and had a beyond-average understanding of literal rocket science. Meanwhile, Jude didn’t know how to calculate a tip for a server at dinner—even with a calculator—and forgot words in his one and only language sometimes. So yeah, Al was smarter than him by a long shot.
But Al seemed aghast that he would say such a thing.
He stared at Jude, as though waiting for the punchline, and when none came, said, “Jude, you are one of the most intelligent creatures I know.”
Jude let out a little huff of a laugh. “Yeah, okay, I appreciate the flattery, babe, but you should try being more realistic next time if you wanna hit the mark.”
Al moved away, forcing Jude to lift his head back up. Then, gently but firmly, he cupped his hand against Jude’s jaw and turned his head so they were face to face. “I am not being hyperbolic, Jude,” he said. “Remember, I have seen inside your mind—I know how much intelligence you have.”
“I don’t know a quarter of the things you know,” Jude said quietly, trying and failing to not let his insecurities bleed through. He didn’t think that Al would ever leave him, not really, but he did wonder now and then why the universe would pair them together when they were so intellectually mismatched.
“Intelligence is not about the amount of things one knows,” Al argued, “but about one’s ability to learn. I know more things because on my planet I have had more opportunities tolearnmore things. This does not make you less smart than me, Jude.” He nodded toward the bassinet full of the hatching eggs. “Our offspring will be born with very limited knowledge. Does this make them stupid?”
Jude considered this, and frowned. He blinked mist out of his eyes.
“No,” he admitted. “It just means that they haven’t had a chance to learn yet.”
“Yes,” Al said with a sweet smile. “You have much room in your mind for growth, my love. You are clever and witty and creative, not to mention kind and loving. I feel certainty that you and I are equals in all ways that matter, including intellect, and no matter which of us our children resemble more, they will be perfect. Do not feel doubt over this.”
Jude was at a loss for words. The feeling inside him right then was so foreign that it took him a moment to place it, but at last, he did.
He felt confident.
Al had made him feelconfident.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that way.
“I love you,” Jude said, because he could think of nothing else that could portray the gravity of his appreciation. Even that declaration felt as though it fell short, but Al smiled the way he always did when Jude expressed his love—wide and bright and glowing.
He kissed Jude sweetly on the mouth and said softly, as though sharing a secret, “These are still my favorite words, and I feel hope you recognize my sincerity when I say I love you, too.”
* * *
Al didn’t lie when he said that the hatching was a lengthy process. Five hours passed during which nothing much happened, but it might as well have been five days from how time seemed to drag. Jude and Al took turns getting up to stretch and walk around the room to keep from cramping, and Al texted—fuckingtexted—his parents to let them know the eggs were hatching. They replied stating they would “expedite the paperwork,” which meant exactly nothing to Jude, but he was too distracted with willing the eggs to hatch to ask for clarification.
At one point, Jude texted Ezra for food, and he brought in a pizza that was half pepperoni, and half “one of everything” because Al couldn’t decide. The dough did not have the integrity to withstand so many toppings, and so part of the five hours was spent cleaning pizza off Al’s lap and the floor.
Finally, though, the baby in the largest egg—the first to start hatching—broke through the shell. Four little arms worked hard to push the casing away, and when the shell finally gave, the little lizard-like lifeform inside tumbled out of it and into the bassinet, spotted Jude with its big eyes, and instantly turned from a sandy color to a charming shade of pink.
Jude’s heart filled with so much love, he forgot how to breathe.
“Baby,” he whispered as Al scooped it out of the bassinet, chittering to it affectionately as the baby blinked up at him before chittering back, causing Jude’s full heart to explode.
“Its sex is male,” Al declared, “and as of this moment, he wishes to be perceived as such. Would you like to hold him, Jude?”
Jude did very much indeed.
The baby was sturdier than human newborns and capable of supporting its own head without assistance, but Al transferred him into Jude’s arms carefully, with the attentiveness of a new parent who still wasn’t quite sure if their baby would break. Jude cradled him with just as much care, gazing down at him in total awe. He was perfect—which was weird, because he decidedly did not look human—but as Jude laid eyes on him, there was no question in his mind that this was his child, and that he was irrevocably in love.
