Married to the Manny

by Daisy May

  “But if they do,” Cole pushed. “I can’t do this alone. The thought of this house without you in it…”

  He trailed off, and I realized with shock that the choked sound he’d just made was a sob. Cole was crying.

  Crying over me.

  “It’ll be okay,” I said, holding him close in an attempt to soothe him. “We’ll make it work.”

  “How, Gordon? How can we possibly make it work?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I’d always tried not to think about it. People said you got what you visualized, so I’d only imagined the result that I wanted: Cole and I together here in Miami, living in this very house with his daughter.

  Now I let my mind roam further, into the unexplored territory that made me shiver just from touching the edge of it. I looked hard at the possibilities that could result from the government denying my application.

  I’d have to move back to Toronto. I’d stay with my moms at first, helping around the house and taking care of the chickens. I’d find some kind of job, occupy my time… but it’d be a cold life, and not just because of the weather.

  “We can’t let it happen,” I said. “We just can’t.”

  “There’s nothing we can do, though.” Cole turned to hug me, his breath hot on my neck. “We’re absolutely powerless.”

  “We’re not,” I said. “We can fight it. We’ll tell our friends what to say.”

  “They already know, though. We’ve done as much as we can do.”

  “No.” I couldn’t give up like that. This was too important to leave in the hands of fate. “We have to ask the universe for what we want. If we just visualize it and send out positive energy…”

  “That New Age mumbo-jumbo isn’t going to work.” The despair was evident in Cole’s voice. “Don’t even go there. It’s not what I need right now.”

  “But it’s true,” I said. “We can manifest what we want into our lives.”

  “Gordon, come on. That’s some woo-woo bullshit. You honestly believe in that?”

  “I do,” I said quietly, taking a step back.

  How had he not known that about me? I guessed religion hadn’t come up before. My beliefs might’ve been a mishmash of different tenets and ideas put together, but they were important to me.

  Cole and I hadn’t actually known each other for very long. Maybe we didn’t know each other as well as I thought we did.

  “Hey.” Cole grabbed both of my hands and clasped them between his. “We’ll make this work. Even if you move back to Canada, we’ll just do this long-distance until you can come back here. I love you and you love me, and that’s what matters, so I’m going to stay optimistic about this. All right?”

  “All right,” I murmured.

  I moved forward again, looping an arm around his waist and breathing in the scent of his cologne. I closed my eyes to memorize every detail of this moment, the way he felt against me and the warring emotions in my heart.

  I wanted so badly to believe we’d be okay. That I’d be able to stay here and that things could always be the way they’d been recently.

  But if I couldn’t manifest that into reality, I had no idea how we’d manage. Long distance would kill me. Not just because I’d miss the physical side, either.

  We’d email and talk on the phone—although there might not be too much to say. “I love you” and “I miss you” would get old after a hundred or so repetitions.

  If he didn’t even know my spiritual beliefs, what did he really know about me? What did we even talk about? Aside from trying to stop my deportation, all we did was flirt and tease each other. And those were hardly a basis for a marriage.

  This relationship wasn’t strong enough to survive long distance. Not when it was apparently based on sex.

  Cole was a good man. He’d try to stay faithful when I was gone. Try to stay true to the vows we’d taken. He’d visit when he could—although with his work and a daughter, that wouldn’t be too often.

  It might take months or it might take years, but he’d get tired of the lackluster emails. He’d figure out that Skype sex was no substitute for the real thing.

  Eventually he’d wonder why he was bothering. There were plenty of men in his own country—his own city, even—who’d be a better match for him than me. Intelligent men, educated men. Men who didn’t need to illegally get married to stay close to him.

  “Gordon?” Cole asked.

  “Mmm.” I squeezed him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, a tear forming in my eye.

  And as we started taking off each other’s clothes, my mind kept working on the problem that couldn’t be solved.

  Twenty-Two—Cole

  “The government inspectors dropped by today,” my mother said over the phone.

  I squeezed the receiver tightly, my pulse already quickening. “They did?”

  I’d been getting calls like this for almost a week—ever since the immigration interview. Friends and family alike called immediately after the visits and reported back how they’d told our version of how things had happened. We’d heard from Gordon’s moms, his yoga friend Reuben, my coworkers, and Kerry’s drama teacher, to list a few.

  Of course, those were only the ones who contacted us. I didn’t know if anyone else was getting visited and telling a less favorable story.

  “Your father wasn’t home, but I spoke to them,” Mom said.

  I took a breath and settled onto the couch, flicking the remote to mute the TV. Kerry was on the floor watching her show, and she gave me a dirty look for doing it. I held up a finger and mouthed, “Just a second.” She was old enough to understand some phone calls were important.

  “How did it go?” I asked.

  “Fine,” Mom said.

  I wondered what that meant. My parents hadn’t exactly been supportive of my marriage, but they knew Gordon and I were together for real now. They’d met him several times, and they’d always been polite to him. I knew they would’ve rather seen me with someone more white-collar, more upper-middle-class, but they liked him… I thought.

  I could count on them to say the right thing to the immigration officers… I hoped.

  The fact that Mom was calling was a good sign, but then, I wouldn’t have put it past them to rub my face in my failure. They’d practically been overjoyed when I got a sixty-four in junior year woodworking class. It’d given them something to lord over me for the rest of high school.

  “What do you mean when you say it went fine?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice calm. “What did you tell them?”

  “Why, I told them the truth.”

  My stomach flipped over. I set a hand on it, wondering if I might get sick. If it kept doing somersaults like this, there was no way my dinner would stay down.

  “That you’ve been together for months and you’re madly in love with each other,” Mom finished airily.

  “God, don’t scare me like that,” I breathed. “You had me going for a second.”

  “Why would I tell them anything else?” She sounded almost offended now. “Your father and I want you to be happy, you know.”

  “I do know that, but you’ve never seemed too crazy about Gordon. How could I be sure what you’d tell the government about him?”

  “Sure, we weren’t crazy about him when it seemed like he was using you for your citizenship.” Her words were clipped, signifying the conversation was almost over. “We’ve seen the way he looks at you—and more importantly, the way you look at him. He may not be the partner we would’ve chosen for you, but…” She softened for a moment. “He’s part of the family now.”

  An unexpected smile came over my face. “Thank you, Mom.”

  We hung up, and Kerry gave me a pouty look—I didn’t have to be psychic to understand she wanted me to turn the TV’s sound back on.

  “Give me a sec, would you? I just want to be happy and not think for one second.”

  “But the monkeys,” she whined.

  I turned it back on for her. I still pu
t her happiness above just about anything else. And these days, she was probably the happiest person in the house.

  At her age, it was hard for her to envision the worst-case scenario we’d told her about. As far as she could tell, Gordon was still here, so everything was fine.

  “Where’s Gordy, Daddy?” Kerry asked.

  The show had gone to commercial. That explained why she had noticed there was life outside the screen.

  “I think he’s upstairs,” I said.

  He’d been spending more and more time alone lately. And when he was with me, he talked less than usual. We’d been having sex—it felt like we were trying to store it up in preparation for the times when we might not be able to do it—but outside of bed, his laugh had lost its sparkle and his eyes were dull and pained.

  “Let’s bring him some ice cream,” Kerry said. “He needs to cheer up.”

  So she’d noticed him seeming off. And she cared, too. I guessed we weren’t annoying her anymore—or else she’d decided having him go far away was worse than being annoyed.

  I got down on the floor so I could lie down next to her. Propping myself up on an elbow, I asked, “Why do you think so?”

  “He’s sad lately. He doesn’t want to go home.” She looked at the ground. “He might have to go home because of me.”

  “No, don’t think like that.” She’d been trying to do the right thing, and it was also our fault for putting her in that position to begin with. “But I do think it’d be nice if you brought him some ice cream.”

  “Okay.” She leapt up. “Does he like strawberry or cookie dough?”

  “Cookie dough.”

  I didn’t even need to think about it. I knew Gordon’s preferences by heart. Not just because I’d studied them, the two of us quizzing each other for hours as if we were preparing for the exam of a lifetime. I knew them because we’d been living together, loving each other. I watched him so closely, sometimes it felt like I knew him better than I knew myself.

  And now, after all the struggle to figure out our relationship and all the joy of falling for each other, the government wanted to take him away from me.

  “You look sad, Daddy.” Kerry placed a bowl and spoon in front of me. “You should have some ice cream, too.”

  *

  When the government inspector came to visit, it wasn’t Edwin, as I’d expected. Instead, it was an elegant Caribbean lady by the name of Rosa. She walked in, looking around with eyes that clearly said we should’ve spent more time dusting.

  Not that we hadn’t cleaned for hours already. The house had never been so spotless. We’d even put Kerry to work sweeping both floors—although I’d still gone and done them again afterwards.

  “If you don’t mind showing me around,” Rosa said.

  We guided her through the kitchen and the living room, making mindless chatter about how the two of us would cook in here, or how Kerry liked to sit and watch her shows in there.

  Rosa barely responded, not giving us much more than a nod or an “mm-hmm.” Gordon hung back, interjecting a comment here or there. That was how we’d decided to do this. We wanted to come off like a team.

  “And what’s upstairs?” Rosa asked, jotting down a note on her clipboard.

  “Three bedrooms,” I said. “Ours, Kerry’s, and the guest room.”

  “That’s where I stayed when I first moved here,” Gordon said. “Back when I was just the nanny.”

  “And you almost immediately began sleeping in Mr. Hofstetter’s room, is that correct?”

  “Not that fast,” Gordon said, color rising in his cheeks. “Maybe a few weeks after we first got together, so mid-April.”

  Without turning my head, I shot a glance at Kerry. She’d apparently decided that the lie was okay this time.

  “Let’s take a look at the guest room,” Rosa said.

  She peered in, and I stood back. I already knew the room wouldn’t give anything away. None of my personal things had been there for a long time.

  Rosa walked through the room, nodding to herself and making. “Nice bathtub,” she commented. She touched a fragment of paint that’d peeled off from the wall. It fluttered to the floor, and instead of picking it up, she wrinkled her nose. “Better get that later.”

  “Do you need to see my room?” Kerry asked brightly.

  Rosa gave her a funny look. She didn’t seem to be used to children. “No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll just take a look in the master bedroom, and then I’ll be done.”

  “But I have monkey wallpaper,” Kerry said.

  “She doesn’t care, Kerry,” I told her. I put my arm around her, squeezing her shoulder to make sure she didn’t take offense. “We should let the nice lady do her job and get out of here. I’m sure she has other places to be.”

  “I’ll take a peek.” Rosa opened Kerry’s door and leaned in. “Very nice wallpaper.”

  The slight sign of humanity gave me a little hope. If she was nice enough to compliment Kerry’s little monkeys, maybe she was nice enough to let Gordon stay in the country.

  “It better be nice. We spent a few hours putting that up, didn’t we?” Gordon said.

  If we hadn’t gotten together for real, if we were still pretending, I would’ve thought he was laying it on too thick. But both of us knew the feelings were all genuine.

  Moving on to our bedroom, Rosa let out a small impressed sound. I had to admit the large window was nice, especially with the view of the pool.

  Not a lot of people came in here aside from the three of us. For Kerry it was normal, and I couldn’t remember if Gordon had said anything the first time he’d come in. I supposed he’d been distracted by me, as funny as that was to think about.

  “Mind if I take a look in the drawers?” Rosa asked.

  “Sure, as long as you stay out of our drawers,” Gordon said.

  Rosa didn’t laugh. She went through our stuff, making notes of how we’d organized everything—which drawers corresponded to each of us, whose stuff took up more space in the closet, where our toothbrushes were in relation to each other.

  “Whose deodorant is this?” she asked, picking up a stick from the bathroom counter.

  “That’s mine,” I said.

  “And where’s yours?” she asked Gordon.

  “It’s over there, in the cupboard. I like to keep it out of sight.”

  “I see.” Her face was expressionless, but she slipped the pen back onto her clipboard and placed it under her arm. “I think I’ve seen enough.”

  As she moved down the stairs, I trailed after her. “Can you tell us anything about our application? I mean, you must be able to see we’re a real couple, right?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to give you any feedback at this time.”

  “So when will we hear something?”

  “This was the final step. You’ll find out if your application has been accepted or rejected within the week.”

  “Within the week,” Gordon said softly.

  I held my arms out to him as Rosa walked out the door.

  Twenty-Three—Gordon

  “Just try,” I said. “Please.”

  “I don’t know,” Cole said. “It feels so silly.”

  “Plenty of things feels silly, but people do them anyway.”

  Cole took a seat on the bed, giving me a tired look. “But it’s pointless. I don’t even believe in it. I’m just going to feel stupid.”

  “Do it for me, then. It’s not going to hurt anything.” I sat next to him, taking his hands. “If it’s pointless, you’re not going to lose anything. But if there’s any chance it could help, then why not try?”

  Cole heaved a sigh. “I’ll do it because I love you, and no other reason.”

  I grinned, squeezing his hands now. “You’ll see. It really works. After you see it in action, you’re going to want to do it all the time.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t know you believed in this stuff before I married you,” he grumbled. “I would’ve let you
and your crazy ideas get shipped back to Canada.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have. You’re way too nice to do that.”

  “Sure, believe that if you want.” He ruffled my hair, making me grimace at him. “Now, how’s this even work?”

  “There isn’t really a right or wrong way to do it,” I said. “I just envision every possible detail of how I want things to be. The sights, the smells, the sounds…”

  “And why do you need me for this?”

  “I figure we’ll be putting double the amount of energy into the universe. Maybe more. Your energy might multiply mine and make it ten times stronger.”

  “So you don’t even know how this works,” he said.

  “No, but I know it does work.”

  “It’s basically just praying?”

  “You can think of it like that if you want. Maybe it’ll seem less crazy that way. It’s the same idea, asking a higher power to give us what we want.”

  “Then you could’ve asked all our family and friends to send prayers instead of sending positive energy,” he muttered. “That really didn’t impress my parents.”

  “Forget your parents. Let’s do this already. Close your eyes.”

  With my sense of sight gone, the feeling of Cole’s hands in mine was even more wonderful than usual. I ran the pads of my thumbs over his knuckles, then up to the little hairs that grew there.

  “Let’s go through the perfect day,” I said softly. “What we want to happen a year from now. Let’s picture every moment, from the time we wake up until we go to sleep.”

  “I think I’d wake up right here,” Cole said. “On my side of the bed and with all the blankets over me, since you claim I love stealing them.”

  I smiled, glad he was at least humoring me with this. “I’d open my eyes slowly and see you right there next to me. The room would look just like it does now, maybe a new painting or two on the walls—ones we picked out together.”

  “And the carpet would be replaced,” Cole said. “I’ve been meaning to get that done since forever.”

  “We’d shower and then get back in bed,” I said, a thrill going through me at the idea. “We’d stay there for quite some time.”

  Cole laughed. “Is that all the detail you’re going to go into, Mr. Erotic Email Writer?”