Page 30 of Touch of Class

“Yes,” Daphne said with a little more enthusiasm. “Soon we were making plans. Everyone thought we were crazy, and I think most people still believe we were reckless, but we were almost thirty, and when you’re that young, you have this sense you’re running out of time.”

“Right.” Gillian remembered the feeling. “Thirty feels like falling off a cliff until you turn forty.”

“Which we both did this year, but Hugh and I were clearheaded and deliberate, or rather he was, and still is. He argued that we balance each other out better than most people who fall into bed together and wake up pregnant.”

Gillian refrained from saying that sounded like a low bar, but Daphne had picked up steam, and she wanted to know how this story ended.

“Hugh had landed a job dealing art and was picking up clients. I was still painting. We spent a year planning how he’d provide insurance and income while I’d be home to care for the baby, and so on. Neither of us could’ve imagined the emotional impacts of bringing a life into the world, but I’m good at asking ‘what-if’ and Hugh’s good at finding answers. He decided we would marry in name only to have the same legal rights and protections. We were already living together at that time, and we planned to share parenting responsibilities equally, which again, is more than most heterosexuals can agree on.”

“What about if either of you fell in love or wanted to have a life of your own?”

“We sketched out some basic rules and promised to trust each other to keep learning and growing together.”

Gillian shifted slightly at how much the arrangement left to chance.

“Don’t start with me, Gillian,” Daphne warned.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but you thought it. I can feel the need to argue building in your energy field.”

Gillian rolled her eyes at the very idea, but arguing would only prove Daphne’s point, so she sidestepped. “How has the arrangement worked for you?”

“Wow, you’re such a therapist.”

“Thank you,” Gillian said, fully aware Daphne hadn’t intended the comment as a compliment.

“It’s worked out great.” A hint of defiance rose in her voice. “I have a phenomenal kid who’s smart and funny and somehow athletic even though we don’t know where that came from in either parent’s gene pool, and it certainly isn’t a learned behavior in our household.”

Gillian cocked her head to the side.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t.” Daphne pointed. “Don’t therapy face me.”

“Therapy face?” Gillian asked, even though she knew exactly the expression Daphne referred to.

“You did it to me when I told you what I do for a living, and then again the night I met everyone else. You clearly have thoughts in that much-vaunted brain of yours. Spit them out.”

“Fine, if you’re going to beg me.” Gillian paused enough to enjoy the flash of frustration across Daphne’s pretty features. “You said ‘our household,’ but earlier you mentioned living together ‘at that time,’ which I thought suggested you weren’t anymore.”

“Oh.” Daphne’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “It’s complicated, but in a good way. We used to live in two apartments in the same building, but now we’ve found a house here in Buffalo where the ground floor and the upper floor function the same way. Izzy’s room always stays the same, while Hugh and I swap out our weeks.”

Gillian sat forward. “She has one room, but each parent has two?”

“Correct. The ground floor of the house has two bedrooms, so Izzy has hers, and then there’s a parent room, which is neutrally decorated. We each keep a toothbrush and whatnot in the bathroom there. The upstairs apartment also has two bedrooms, one for him and one for me. The living area houses a corner for him to use as a home office and a little painting nook for me.”

“Everyone gets everything they need logistically at all times, but Izzy also has consistency,” Gillian marveled.

“Exactly. She sleeps in the same bed, all her clothes and comfort items stay in the same place, and she eats dinner at the same table every night.”

“But your life is always in flux?”

“Hardly.” Daphne laughed. “There’s a consistency and a rhythm for me, too. I get to be part of the most wonderful family, built through love and deliberation and attention to detail, plus I get the joy of my own time and space regularly, with a partner who, while not my ideal in the bedroom, very much exceeds every societal standard as a co-parent.”

“Which is why you aren’t a single parent.”