43
Ian
I could never have imagined that my life would feel or look like this. I’d resigned myself to getting by without Alana, moving on as much as someone ever can from the love of their life. I hadn’t cared about getting a divorce, even though I could have claimed Alana abandoned me because I wasn’t ever going to get married again. Alana was it for me.
I just hadn’t been able to let myself really believe she’d come back—or even that we could make it work if she did.
But she’s here. And wearemaking it work.
A month has passed and we know that the baby is ours, we can start planning our future. It doesn’t even feel likework. It feels like a fucking gift I never expected to get.
Hell, we’re sitting at my parents’ house, close to Alana’s due date, on the back deck like any normal couple. My stepdad is manning the grill, burgers and vegetables and ribs sizzling atop it as he takes occasional sips from the beer he’s holding, same as the one that’s in my hand as I sit next to Alana while she and my mother chat.
“So—DID means that there are two other people? You’re three people, basically?”
“I have alters,” Alana explains patiently. “They have unique voices and desires and feelings, and they’re more or less their own people too. So in a way—yes.”
“That must get exhausting.” My mother purses her lips. “A committee meeting every time you want to make a decision or do anything.”
“Sometimes yes, sometimes no,” Alana admits. “Lately, it’s been much more peaceful. There was a time when it was a civil war with the occasional forcible takeover,” she adds with a rueful laugh. “But these days, yes. More like a committee. With me chairing it,” she adds.
“Doesn’t that worry you?” My mother frowns, and I can tell that she’s trying to be understanding, but it’s clear she’s concerned. I can’t blame her, it’s all new, and after the last dinner we all had together—we have work to do. But today is a good start. “After all, with a baby—”
“The baby is what changed everything,” Alana says, squeezing my hand. “It’s not just us anymore, after all. We can’t fight and take over at will when there’s someone to care for like this. So we’ve all made a decision. The baby is Ian’s, and I love Ian. So this body is mine to share with the others. That’s a choice we’ve come to—with a lot of therapy,” she adds.
“I trust Alana,” I say firmly. “With our baby and our family, however, it grows in the future. I believe in her. I’ve seen it done successfully, too. Lauren, the gallery owner who shows my photos—she’s married to a man with DID. They have a happy family together. It’s work sometimes, but it’s worth it to be with the person you love.”
“I know not many people know much about this condition,” my mother says hesitantly. “Even I’ve only heard of it in passing or in movies as this scary thing. Don’t you worry about that? What others might think? If your child will have friends?”
“Of course, we worry. But all we can do is our best. Alana is working hard to make sure that our baby and we have as normal of a life as possible.”
“It’s not allSplit,” Alana says with another dry laugh. “I’m in therapy, like I said, being treated by the best doctor I could possibly have. I will keep making as much progress as I can until the baby comes, and even after, I’ll keep seeing my doctor regularly to ensure I’m the mother this baby needs and deserves. I’m committed to that—and to your son.”
“Well, if you ever leave him again, I’m coming after all three of you,” my mother says, only half-jokingly, from what I can tell. “But I can see that Ian is happy. That’s the most important thing in the world to me. He wasn’t the same after you left. It’s clear the two of you have something special.”
“Are you threatening our daughter-in-law?” My stepfather jokes as he comes up the steps of the deck with a platter of food, setting it in the center of the table in front of us.
“Only a little,” my mother retorts, but I can see Alana quietly smiling. I know what it means to her to be acknowledged as my wife, to hear my parents refer to her in that way. Her entire life, she’s been rejected, dismissed, and ostracized, and now she’s being welcomed into a family.Myfamily, just as we’re getting ready to start one of our own.
“Have you picked out names yet?” my mother asks as she begins fixing a burger for herself. “You don’t know the sex yet, do you?”
“We are waiting,” Alana says. “But I’ve chosen Destiny if it’s a girl. ” She smiles up at me, and I squeeze her hand.
“I managed to talk her into Ian Jr. for a boy,” I say, laughing as I see the expression on my mother’s face. “I’ve always wanted a little Junior.”
I’d been a little nervous about the dinner, especially after how things went last time, but I didn’t need to worry. It’s as different as night and day. My mother loves babies, and that’s a good starting point for her and Alana to find common ground to talk, even though they’ve both lived very different lives. My stepfather seems pleased too, the four of us chatting about the new apartment we’ve rented. I spent most of the last few weeks painting and readying the second bedroom to be a nursery. My stepfather and I talk about tools and handyman shit for a little while as Alana goes inside with my mom to get dessert, despite my mom’s insistence that she should stay sitting.
“I need to move around as much as I can,” Alana says ruefully. “There’s no way I want to go past my due date if I can help it.”
“Well, most first pregnancies do,” my mother cautions her. “So I’d be prepared.”
My mother made her famous chocolate silk pie, and Alana makes appreciative humming noises as she passes the small plates around.
“I’ve been craving chocolate like crazy,” Alana says, sinking back down next to me as she already starts forking a bite into her mouth. “This is incred—”
Her eyes go round and wide, her fork freezing halfway to her lips with her second bite.
“Alana? Are you okay?” My voice rises with alarm, fear shocking the shit out of me. My first thought is that it’s Megan or Veronica, that they’ve changed their minds about the arrangement, and one of them is about to turn this perfect day to shit.