I woke up to find Allison resting against me, spread across the couch. She looked up calmly and said, “Lunch is almost ready.” I bent down to kiss her on the head.

Classes were over and summer stretched across us like a clinging breath on all sides. The house had central air but the electric costs over the summer were all on us, so we had small fans and portable A/Cs going instead.

Allison sat up and slipped an arm behind me.

After Sean left, I don’t think Allison let go of me for three days. She would cling to the cuff of my shirt or just rest against me. She looked up often to make sure I was still there. We slept in the same bed all the while. I had to learn how to breathe like I had a human corset around me but it was okay. It was for Allison.

With many reassurances I had no intention of leaving, she relaxed a little. She tagged along with me everywhere. She walked me to classes. Soon, she started smiling with the feeling she was letting her lips flow naturally instead of forcing them up.

We had an “affirmation honeymoon” after classes ended. Nothing too fancy, just a trip down to the beach. We arrived late the first day and had to eat chili dogs at a bus stop diner but had something nicer the second evening.

The motel we stayed at was close to the water but smelled like burnt sawdust. No one recognized us. Allison giggled freely on the wharf as proud pelicans ambled past. And she collapsed into a happy heap to learn a local bookstore was still open, decorated like a twist between a coffee shop and a lounge, where unfamiliar books and old, deep-set chairs were scattered about with handwritten reviews by those who worked there taped to the shelves. We shared a single chair and I watched Allison read and softly speak her favorite parts.

Classes had been a mixed bag to the end. I didn’t mind that I had to fill in for Sean. Some of the professors were bewildered by my situation but I did the work, so I didn’t get too many complaints. The biggest problem was the retitled “Daemonrae” anthropology class. We gave up the textbook for recent newspapers and online articles. It still annoyed me that, despite a solid final assignment and…oh, you know…completely rewriting human understanding of history in one fell swoop, I only wound up with a B.

Those ripples of what we’d done were already beginning to pass beneath the surface of society. People can only be shocked and challenged in everything that they thought they knew for so long. The doubters and the believers were both polarized by Sean’s disappearance. Mostly, people stopped calling me and showing up at our door, which I liked very much.

I did accept one particular book deal from a small publisher. They made me feel comfortable that they weren’t going to twist what I wrote into something negative. And they gave us plenty of free books as part of the deal.

Starting the writing was the most frustrating challenge. I could only imagine coming to some sort of end or stopping point would be several times harder. What can you possibly say in an ending? Our lives were still in flux each and every day. And, at the same time, nothing much happened.

Sure, there were days when Clayton somehow set off smoke alarms across the entire block. And days when I had to read some venomous piece by a piece of shit pundit about the evils of the “demons in our midst”. But there were also days that a kiss from Allison could settle all of that in a moment and warm little joys found their way out.

I loved when I stumbled onto a little online site praising not only us but speculating about the Aeternals. Little groups I found called themselves “Aeternal Pledged”, aspiring one day to live as spirit beings of pure, Ae energy.

We both assumed, from what he had left us with, Tessa had convinced Sean that Allison was some sort of reincarnation of the Aeternal who stayed with him when Theresa crashed the car. Allison had no memory of it but hoped the idea gave Sean joy, wherever he was. We both pondered over how young Sean could’ve met an Aeternal version of Allison when they were both the same age. In the end, we had to shrug to ourselves and conclude, “Time travel.” Which naturally launched Allison off into wondering what she would change, if she had access to something like that.

“All the lost works of history would be put away somewhere safe, like a time-safe vault. Everything from Alexandria and all the old Roman stuff. Original Shakespearean folios. All that humanity has forgotten, now preserved. And some old TV shows too. I’m sure Lissa would be happy if I restored the entirety of Doctor Who.” She grinned and so did I.

For me, I wasn’t sure what to answer. I knew in slivers the dangers of what a disruption in history could bring with the ancient suspicion of the Daemonrae. I just agreed with her and she teased me until I managed, “I wish…if I had to change anything…that the most beautiful things you embody were always revered throughout human history.”

She smirked and smooched me while saying, “Butt kisser.”

Allison gave me another kiss as we sat there in the relative present, her arm tickling at my side as we both got up to have lunch. It wasn’t until the first bits of lunch were settling into my stomach that she sprung a slight surprise on me.

“I decided to get a home pregnancy test.”

We’d been talking about it. Children. But I felt like the “other” when we were intimate. How would Sean react if the first baby was mine instead of his (or hers)?

Allison fanned a hand and remarked, “Just purely for the fun of it. You remember that bout of nausea I had the other day?” I sure did. It was after serving her something I’d cooked even though she told me she’d felt nauseous before.

She’d had no trouble going from female to male since that though (he even danced around the house all-boy in nothing but an undersized apron while my girl-self gawked). But then I had no idea how our gender-swapping worked. For all I knew, I could be pregnant. Which gave me pause.

Immediately, she produced two tests from a bag and said, with a smirk, “Got one for you too.”

After lunch, I went into girl mode and followed the instructions along with Allison. We set our tests to one side, inside their boxes, while we waited for the results. Meanwhile, Allison began talking about baby names.

“I’ve got an ever-expanding list. Did I ever tell you that I picked the name ‘Corlie’ for you because it literally means to be without grief or sadness and be cheerful? …Which is what I hoped you would find and have always.” I reiterated “always” to her, with a warm smile, as I touched her soft hand.

Some of the names she suggested were obviously names of colorful ponies and TV characters. Some were clever in their punning. Others were plain with a twist. Eventually, she got to her serious suggestions. Sort of.

“Gregor”, she pronounced proudly.

I raised an eyebrow and responded, “Not Gregory?”

“It’s a literary character.”

I narrowed an eye and asked her, “Doesn’t he turn into an insect?” I’d only skimmed it once but I remembered the name.

Allison pouted and remarked, “There’s lots of Gregors out there. And I’d love for there to be a Gregor Longbloom. Or Demetrius. That’s my second choice.”

I rubbed my neck and offered, “Maybe…leave that one for our children’s children.”

She pouted again but smiled. I considered a slice of leftover cake for dessert as Allison glanced towards the front door. Weeks ago, she’d look at it and stop to listen every time she went past. There’d been a few false alarms where someone had knocked several times in quick succession and Allison vaulted towards the door, only to bow over some unsuspecting Mormon missionary.

This time, she only glanced for a moment before wiggling an eyebrow and asking, “Should we check our results, future momma?”

I swallowed to myself. I picked up our testers. They were hidden in their boxes deep enough so that it was impossible to see anything. Allison admonished me for trying to peek. I took a breath and realized I wasn’t sure which of the testers I’d used and which Allison had used. They both looked alike.

I had a feeling from Allison’s smile that she’d planned it this way. No marks or names on the boxes to tell them apart. She noted, “Extra surprise.” I smiled at her despite the fact my heart felt like it wanted to throttle my neck.

With a giggle, Allison told me, “We both look on three, okay?”

I gripped the end and told myself I was looking for a pink line on both ends.

“One….two…”

That moment, I heard, clear and resounding, the sound of three knocks at the front door.