Long Hill Home

by Kathryn Pincus

  Before Mark could answer, an office door opened and Sara Nuñez stepped out.

  “Hello, Sara.” Kelly said, shaking her hand. “This is Mark Slattery, with my firm, and as you know, he is the guy to go to for immigration issues.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Mark said as he shook Sara’s hand.

  “Well,” Sara said, rather brusquely, “my clients are in my office. Maria has been living at Juan’s cousin’s house with the baby, terrified because she received a subpoena regarding the Barnard prosecution.”

  Kelly blushed at the mention of Barnard in front of Mark Slattery. “Well, that matter has been resolved. The defendant entered a guilty plea at his arraignment yesterday, and he has been sentenced, so there will be no need for her to answer those papers.”

  “Yes, I know. Sam Schultz called me yesterday afternoon and told me that good news.” Sara said. “I told Maria that she will not have to testify now. I also explained that today’s meeting is about helping them get citizenship and avoid deportation. Just give me one more moment with them alone, and then I’ll call you in.”

  “Wait,” Mark called out, causing Sara to pause and turn back toward him. “How good is their English?”

  Sara tried to conceal a smirk, but Kelly saw it. “Their English is excellent, Mr. Slattery.” She turned and disappeared into her office, leaving Kelly and Mark standing uncomfortably silent.

  “You’re dressed up for a Saturday,” Kelly joked.

  “I have a thing in Philly after this,” Mark said.

  “Does this thing involve a country club?” Kelly regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact it does, and lunch, do you have a problem with that?” Mark asked, feigning anger.

  “No, not at all, Mark,” Kelly said quickly. “That’s why you are a master rainmaker.”

  “It’s actually a boring meeting about the Mayor’s bid for a second term. God, I’d rather be hitting a tennis ball on such a beautiful Saturday.”

  “Well, I appreciate everything you did here. I really do. They are good, honest, hard-working people who deserve a break.”

  Sara’s office door opened and she beckoned them forward. Juan jumped up from his chair as they entered the room, and walked toward them with his hand outstretched, to greet them. He was wearing a crisp white oxford shirt tucked into his jeans, and his black hair had been cut short. Maria remained seated with the baby sleeping in her arms. Kelly became uncomfortable as Mark’s gaze lingered on Maria a little too long. Kelly noticed Maria’s large expressive eyes, heart-shaped lips and long black hair. She wore the fatigue of a mother of a newborn, and yet she was still beautiful.

  “Thank you. Thank you for everything.” Juan said as he shook their hands.

  “You’re very welcome,” Mark said nodding to Juan and to Maria.

  “First, before Mark speaks about your immigration issues, I’d like to make sure you understand that the subpoena papers are of no concern to you anymore.” Kelly paused to look at Maria. “The man who attacked me pleaded guilty, and the case is resolved. He’s in prison now and will be there for a long time.”

  “Yes.” Maria spoke softly, raising her eyes to look at Kelly as she did so. “Sara told us this same thing last night. Actually, she told my husband who was home at the time.”

  “I am so grateful that you took the risk and called the police that day—even though you were afraid of the attention it might bring to you. And I am sorry for the trouble it caused you.”

  “Now,” Mark said. “If it is okay with everyone, I’d like to talk about your citizenship. Not for the little one of course—he beat you both to citizenship.” Everyone in the room laughed. Juan smiled and Maria giggled softly as together they looked at their sleeping son. Mark pulled papers out of his briefcase and put them on the table. “Here’s a copy of Juan’s entire file at the Bureau of Citizenship and Immigration Services, which I’ll call CIS.” Anticipating questions from Sara and Kelly, Mark explained. “I have a friend who works there, so there was no problem in obtaining a copy.”

  “Anyway,” he continued, “between this file and my discussions with my friend at CIS, it seems you are ready to get sworn in as a United States citizen, my good man.” Kelly was grateful to see that Mark looked at Juan while talking to him. “You came to the United States over five years ago legally, on a work visa, sponsored by relatives, right?”

  “Yes,” Juan answered, nodding.

  “Okay,” Mark continued. “So, about twelve months after you got here you received your green card, which officially means you had lawful permanent-resident status for about four more years.” Mark spoke as he read notes in Juan’s CIS file. “The rest of your folder tells me that you completed all of the paperwork necessary in your application for citizenship, you aced the English proficiency test, and you passed the history and civics stuff that they asked of you as well. On top of that, I see letters from a Catholic priest, a Father Delgado, who says you have been his loyal parishioner, and one from your current employer, John Stanhope of Stanhope Construction Company. Both letters state that you are of good moral character, which is a requirement for citizenship. Your boss goes so far as to say that you’re his most trustworthy and dependable employee.”

  Kelly noticed Maria beamed with pride as she looked at Juan.

  “So,” Mark continued. “I asked my friend at CIS to find out what the hell was holding this thing up, and he told me they have a backlog now of anywhere from six to eighteen months. They seem to move along based on who is calling and making noise and how much influence they have. Your file was just buried somewhere. So we brought it to light and it’s been deemed complete, and your citizenship qualifications have been signed off on.” Mark produced a letter written on paper with the United States Bureau of Citizenship and Immigration Services engraved across the top. He handed it to Juan. Sara got up to read it over Juan’s shoulder. “So, the only thing left for you to do is to show up at the New Castle County Courthouse on King Street Monday morning and take an oath in front of a judge.”

  “That’s great news!” Sara said. “You’ll be a full United States citizen on Monday.”

  Juan looked up when he finished reading the letter. His wide white smile dissolved as he caught Maria’s expression of fear. “What about Maria?” Juan asked. “How do we make her a citizen? How do we protect her against deportation?”

  Mark cleared his throat. “Well, Maria is a little tricky, because she came here illegally and is still here illegally.”

  Maria looked like she was going to cry. Juan got up from his chair and went over to put his hand on her shoulder protectively. “She had to come illegally. We were too scared to wait for a sponsor and this whole process to work its way through. We were afraid we would lose each other.”

  “No one is coming after Maria.” Mark said. “She will be fine. Just please let me explain.” He went on, “As a citizen, you can file papers to get a K-1 Visa, which is intended to get an alien fiancée into the country for a legal marriage to a U. S. citizen.” Mark paused for a second, and then looked up at Sara as he spoke. “Of course, this is intended for people who are literally living in their country, and then come here legally with the K-1 Visa. So I asked my friend at CIS, confidentially and uhm, hypothetically, what happens when the alien fiancée is here already, and he said that he is able to take care of that. There are waiver provisions for ‘humanitarian purposes’ and ‘to assure family unity’ that apply here. With the circumstances at hand, the lawyers involved, and my connections, this is going to happen and soon.”

  The room was very quiet for a moment. Mark cleared his throat awkwardly, and spoke again. “I hope I was correct in assuming that you do want to get married. That is what I was told by Kelly.”

  “Oh, yes. Definitely.” Juan was still standing over Maria’s shoulder and looking down at his sleeping son when he spoke. “That is our dream, of course. We were just waiting until we had this whole citizenship thing straight
ened out.”

  “Well, that’s what you’ll do then,” Mark said, confidently. “You’ll get your citizenship, Maria will get her fiancée visa status, and then you’ll marry. After that, it will be even easier to get the permanent residence status for your wife, and then eventually, her citizenship.”

  Kelly chimed in. “Sara and I will go with you on Monday for your citizenship oath, which will be administered in private by a judge who’s doing us a favor. Then, as soon as Mark has Maria’s visa, we’ll go with you to get the marriage license. We can help you through the paperwork and the process and we know the system. It will all be okay.”

  “Whew,” Juan said, as he ran his hand through his close-cropped hair. “I really appreciate everything you are doing for us.”

  “You’re welcome. I could never do enough to thank Maria for the risks she took for me.”

  “Okay, then,” Mark said. “I must leave for an appointment in Philly.”

  Sara spoke up. “We really appreciate everything you’ve done, Mark.”

  “My pleasure,” Mark said. He stood up and collected his suit jacket off of the back of his chair. He half-bowed toward Maria and Juan and said, “My congratulations on the baby, and your citizenship, and of course the pending nuptials. You are a very, very lucky man,” he said to Juan.

  Juan nodded in agreement and again put his arm around Maria protectively.

  As soon as the door shut behind Mark, Sara said, “He’s a bit of a stuffed shirt at first, but he seems genuinely nice. And his contacts and know-how around the CIS was really just what we needed.”

  “Yes, he’s a good guy once you get to know him,” Kelly said. “I’ll see you Monday morning, nine sharp, at Magistrate Judge Kelso’s chambers for the administration of your oath.”

  A warm feeling filled Kelly as she drove home along the rural roads of Hockessin, humming to Van Morrison’s Sweet Thing on the radio.

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAD: OCTOBER 10, 2011

  CHAD PULLED HIS baseball cap down over his eyes, crossed his arms in front of his chest and straightened his legs out as much as he could under the seat in front of him. He sat on the aisle with two empty seats to his right. He felt self-conscious as the other passengers entered the plane, imagining that they all recognized him as the falsely accused rapist.

  After walking out of prison, exhausted and drained by the constant stress that he had endured there, Chad spent several days clearing out his parents’ home. He had worked furiously, grabbing everything that was portable and stuffing it into huge trash bags, without any regard for its use or value. The only exceptions were the clothing and small items he packed in his suitcase, and his mother’s few possessions which he carefully boxed and labeled with a black Sharpie, Louisa Chadbourne. Stuart had come through again, arranging for a trash removal company to remove all the bags, and Kelly Malloy had insisted on paying for their services. Kelly was going to ship the boxes to Louisa’s home in Eugene a week later.

  Chad paged through a worn copy of the airline’s SkyMall catalogue. As he tried to focus on the merchandise pictured, he saw instead the doors of the prison closing behind him. He smelled his musty old bedroom as he tossed and turned during his last few nights there, alone in the little farmhouse and haunted by the memories it held. He recalled how he stuffed his father’s old terrycloth robe and his empty beer bottles into the same garbage bag, hating him with a fury as he worked. He remembered the eerie silence and loneliness of his old house as he ran back inside one last time to retrieve the remaining cash out of the coffee can in the kitchen.

  As passengers continued to settle into the plane, Chad felt fatigued. The soft amber glow of the sunset spilled through the tiny glass window, making him even drowsier. He slumped down in his seat but could not fall asleep. The maelstrom of emotions inside of him raged; relief, grief, anger, fear, anticipation and longing.

  “Excuse me,” Chad heard a voice.

  He looked up and saw a slim young woman with big green eyes, an easy smile and yellow curly hair that framed her face and cascaded over her shoulders and back. She wore a green-and-yellow University of Oregon Ducks football sweatshirt. Chad was so startled that he did not hear her words.

  “Uhm, excuse me, but, I think you’re in my seat,” she said while glancing at her boarding pass.

  “I’m sorry,” Chad said, as he got up and moved over to the window seat. “I’ve never done this before,” he blurted awkwardly—instantly regretting the comment. He blushed. Once again, he was the weird kid who couldn’t talk to girls.

  “You mean you’ve never flown before?”

  “No. I haven’t.” Chad tipped his baseball cap further down, and pretended to try to sleep.

  “Why is that?”

  “I never got the chance, I guess,” he responded. “My childhood was not exactly the kind where your parents take you to Disney World for spring break.”

  “Wow,” the girl said. “I’ve been on a plane probably twenty times. But if it makes you feel better, I’ve never been to Disney World, either.” The girl gave a little laugh then she reached her hand out to Chad and said, “I’m Lisa Hughes, by the way.”

  Chad awkwardly took her hand and shook it over the still-empty middle seat. He thought about “Sad Chad” and the kids mocking him on the school bus. After a moment, he said confidently, “Chad McCloskey. My real name is Chadbourne, but I go by Chad.”

  “Chad, huh? That’s a cool name,” Lisa said. “Why are you going to Seattle?”

  “I’m going to Oregon actually, connecting in Seattle.”

  “Awesome!” Lisa exclaimed. “I’m going to Eugene, too!” She pointed to the lettering on her sweatshirt to corroborate her claim. “Are you a student there?”

  “No, I’m not a student. It’s a long story.”

  “I’d like to hear your long story if you don’t mind telling it. We have about nine hours of travel time together, with our stop in Seattle. And that’s after we manage to get off of this runway… Philly is notorious for delayed takeoffs.” Lisa laughed again.

  Chad felt a flutter in his stomach. He liked how comfortably she said the words, “nine hours of travel time together.” He had never had a conversation with a girl his age—yet she seemed warm and easy to talk to. He started to speak slowly, cautiously. “My mother moved to Eugene, so I’m going to see her.”

  “Oh, you mean your parents are divorced?” Lisa asked.

  Chad sat quietly in response to Lisa’s question. He knew he could not tell her what his circumstances really were. It seemed creepy even to him and he did not want to be the creepy kid. Before he could open his mouth however, Lisa moved over to the empty seat between them and she began speaking again.

  “My parents are divorced. They have been since I was twelve years old. I was just visiting my dad in Philadelphia, for his birthday. He is a professor at Penn. My mom is a professor too, she is at University of Oregon,” Lisa pointed to the O on her sweatshirt again.

  “Wow, so that’s why you’re a veteran air traveler. Where do you live?”

  Before Lisa could answer, a man’s voice boomed out of the speaker above them. “Air traffic control just told us we are twelfth in line for take-off, so we are looking at a delay here on the ground and I will keep you posted as we go.”

  In the midst of the collective groan of the passengers, Chad heard Lisa say, “I could have predicted that. Philly is always such a mess.” She reached into a blue knapsack and pulled out two Powerbars, offering one to Chad. “Want one?”

  “No thanks, I’m good,” Chad said, waving his hand.

  Lisa leaned slightly toward Chad and resumed her lively conversation as if he were an old friend. “I grew up in Eugene. My parents were grad students there and they both became professors at UO. My dad took a job in Philadelphia when I was thirteen. He said it was a tremendous opportunity, that I could visit him on holidays and summers, and that I’d be in college before I knew it.” Chad thought that Lisa looked less cheerful than her tone s
uggested. “Now I’m in college, but still in Eugene.”

  “So, you live with your mother?”

  “Now I live at OSU. I’m in a crummy freshman dorm right now, but I’m going to rent a house near campus next year with a few friends.” Lisa said.

  Chad was still quiet. He was afraid he would say something he’d regret and he was quite content to just stare at this beautiful girl sitting with him.

  “Do you go to school anywhere?” Lisa asked.

  “No. I mean, not now,” Chad stammered. He sat up straighter in his chair and said, “I finished high school last June and had a bunch of stuff happen that sort of delayed my college plan.”

  “Oh, I see.” Lisa asked. Something about Chad’s pained expression caused her to stop there. She opened a magazine and started to casually flip through the pages. After about five minutes of silence, she spoke again.

  “I know it’s not my business. I’ll shut up if you want me to, but, are you okay?” Lisa asked softly. Her voice stirred something inside of Chad, literally taking his breath away. Chad sat silent.

  “Oh, my God, did I offend you? I am so sorry, Chad,” Lisa said. She lifted her arm and briefly touched Chad’s hand resting on the armrest between them. “I’m sorry I asked if your parents are divorced. I always say the wrong thing. I am so sorry.” Lisa stammered. “Damn, I always say the dumbest things.”

  Chad took off his cap, and ran his fingers through his thick hair. Lisa watched the ripples of his bicep and forearm. “I’m really sorry, Chad.” Lisa repeated. “I don’t know why I asked such a personal question.”

  He cleared his throat and spoke slowly, carefully. “No, I’m sorry. It’s a lot weirder than a divorce.” He paused. “But I also feel this strange need to tell you.” Chad smiled a little at this last statement, causing Lisa to smile back.

  “Try me,” Lisa said. She raised her hand and placed it briefly on Chad’s shoulder, trying to reassure him. A loud voice over the speaker caused him to jump. “We have been cleared for take-off. Please remain seated with your seat belts on and your tray tables in the upright position.”