The Professor's Green Card Marriage

by Heidi Cullinan

  He could hardly blame him, though, when he now saw firsthand all the forms and papers that came with being an immigrant in the United States. Every time Valentyn went to his lawyer now, Peter came along to get to know Kevin better, and Peter was blown away by how much work it took simply to stay in the country. Valentyn’s questions to his attorney were full of fear and paranoia, except sometimes the fear seemed entirely justified when Kevin gave his reply. Peter hadn’t realized how privileged he was to not have to worry about his citizenship, that so many of the things Valentyn fought for had been assigned to Peter at birth.

  In an effort to better understand his husband’s situation, Peter had stepped up his study of Ukraine, and what he discovered kept him up at night. No one had told him about the Holodomor in school, the genocidal famine the Soviet government inflicted on the Ukrainian people in the 1930s, killing millions of ethnic Ukrainians for basically no reason other than spite and suppression of revolution. The death toll, depending on which source he checked, was on par with the Jewish victims of the Holocaust. He’d watched Chernobyl with his mother and Terry before he moved to Boulder, but now he viewed the tragedy with new eyes. He’d known the reactor was in Ukraine, but he hadn’t put the pieces together until now that he knew someone from Ukraine, who had lived through that tragedy. The fallout had been intense, and it was still a part of daily life for many people, affecting the Dnieper River.

  Where had Valya been during the time radiation had saturated his country? He would have been six years old. Had he played outside? How much had his cancer risk increased?

  Dammit, he had to quit smoking.

  Peter read books about Ukraine and watched online documentaries, including the stunning Maidan on YouTube. He became obsessed with Maidan, the 2014 Ukrainian revolution, reading and watching everything he could get his hands on. Peter couldn’t believe he’d lived through something so hugely important and barely given it a moment’s thought. The problem was he couldn’t get his head around how and why the revolution started and who was responsible for it, and the more he studied it, the less sense it made. Different reports spun the event in wildly opposite ways, and he didn’t know which source to trust.

  One night over vodka and cigarettes, sitting on the back steps while they watched the container garden grow, Valya filled in the blanks.

  “I wasn’t in Ukraine for Maidan, but many of my friends participated, and I watched the footage online when I could. For most people Maidan was the only place they could conceive of being at that moment. Ukraine has been a pawn for so many nations for so long, and now is no different. It’s the border between East and West, and the country itself splits, becoming more European in the west, more Russian in the east. Everyone wants something from Ukraine, but no one cares about Ukrainians, only themselves. The West won’t give us the help we need, and Russia mocks us, treating us like a dog it calls to heel. Maidan for many felt like the time we were truly Ukrainian, uniting for our freedom. But our union was messy, and as leaders emerged, they had their troubles too. There’s no way you’re prepared to comprehend the corruption, either. It’s simply a fact of life there. Few in Ukraine have been anything but beaten down their whole life, and those who do well often do so at the expense of others. But we still strive. I don’t want to go back, but I want to see my country succeed. I want to feel proud of where I was born.”

  Peter leaned into him. “I knew so little about your country. It was simply one of the countries that had been part of the Soviet Union. I was born in 1991, the year Ukraine declared independence. I could barely find it on a map until I knew you.”

  “I was eleven when Ukraine became independent. I remember the hope we had, the burning dreams for what might be.”

  Peter laced his fingers through Valentyn’s. “I’m glad you came to the United States, that I was able to meet you.”

  Valentyn kissed his knuckles. “And I you, mylyy.”

  They made love that night, the soft, comforting sex they’d fallen into since the wedding. Sometimes Peter was sure Valentyn held himself back, but he didn’t think it was about being apprehensive about relationships anymore. He was simply too nervous about the future.

  Peter did what he could to help with that, starting by getting himself a new job.

  He’d been putting feelers out all summer, working with his therapist on interview skills, and in late August he finally got the bite he’d been after: a work-from-home position with a Denver conservationist organization. His job would be to write and review public relations copy, as well as assist in the research for and reviewing of grant applications. It wouldn’t make as much as his former job, but it paid more than the coffee shop, and it came with insurance much better than the plan he’d signed up for on the Marketplace. It meant he wouldn’t have to pay for his therapy out of pocket anymore.

  He still couldn’t get Valya to so much as consider therapy for himself, and forget antidepressants.

  “I don’t need any of those things,” he told Peter every time he brought it up.

  “You drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney,” Peter countered. “The right medication could help you need that less, and it’s good to have an outlet to talk about everything you’ve been through.”

  Valentyn grunted and hid behind his newspaper.

  As time went on, the bumps smoothed out. They negotiated where the dishes went and how laundry should be handled, who would make dinner and who would do the dishes. No, Valya still wouldn’t go to therapy, still drank and smoked too much, and sighed as he worked for free with no sign of his EAD card. Frequently Peter woke in the middle of the night to find his husband sitting at the window, staring into the foothills.

  But whenever Valentyn saw Peter, he smiled, and some of the pain left his eyes, a bit of the worry lifting from his heart. When Peter stopped work for the day and found Valentyn working in the garden, the home they were building felt like it was finally taking a shape he could hold on to.

  It will be enough, he told himself as he got his phone out to take yet another picture of the two of them for his Instagram. We’ll make it be enough.

  THE week before Thanksgiving, Valentyn’s employment authorization documents arrived.

  He’d received an interim EAD card in September when the ninety-day term for his application had passed, so he’d finally been able to work again, but now it was official. He celebrated by dancing Peter around the living room, kissing him and grinning like a fool.

  “Now all we need is our marriage interview.” Peter’s eyes sparkled. “I wish it didn’t take so long.”

  “Kevin says everything has been delayed lately.” Valentyn kissed his husband’s nose. “Don’t worry. It’ll happen soon enough. In the meantime, we’ll cherish this next step forward.”

  They’d been economical with their money while they waited for Valentyn’s EAD, but tonight they splurged, heading to Flagstaff House to indulge. Valentyn had difficulty keeping his eyes on the road as they headed into the mountains, because his husband wore his wedding suit, and the gold band on his finger glinted in the evening sun. At Flagstaff Valentyn introduced Peter to caviar, and they savored every dish on the chef’s tasting menu. They had the wine pairing too, which meant they lingered at their table with coffee once the meal was finished, making the moment last longer as they sobered up.

  “We should take a trip once we’re through the marriage interview.” Peter had captured Valentyn’s hand and held on to it as they returned home.

  “We could take one now.” Valentyn stroked the side of Peter’s hand with his thumb. “Would you be able to take any vacation around the holidays? We could go into the mountains, just the two of us.”

  “That would be lovely, but expensive.”

  Valentyn huffed. “We don’t have to mind our money as closely now. Besides, we can’t have too many pictures to take to the interview. There wasn’t time to have a proper honeymoon. We can consider this one now.”

  They started looking at condo packages,
Peter worrying over price, Valentyn insisting they indulge. It wasn’t until Thanksgiving dinner at Joe and Helen’s that a nudge from his family allowed Peter to concede on a five-night stay in Telluride at Madeline Hotel. They would ski, shop, and indulge in one another.

  Peter was doing well. He still had moments where his SM got the better of him, but on the whole he was able to navigate social settings with relative ease. Though he didn’t participate as fully as he did when Valentyn was alone with him, he could function, which was a huge step. His job was going well, and his team was good about letting him text via Skype instead of having to speak at meetings, though he was doing a little of that now too. Peter’s mother, stepfather, and brother came to Thanksgiving, and even when Diane managed a bit too much, Peter held his own.

  They elected to have Christmas Eve at their place, where they exchanged gifts wrapped in reusable canvas gift sacks. It had been Valentyn’s birthday on the twenty-third—not an hour before the actual date, because it was another chance for bad luck—and they’d celebrated by Peter making his best attempt to cook holubtsi, Ukrainian stuffed cabbage rolls, finishing with breves made in the brand-new home espresso maker and steamer which had been Valentyn’s present. On Christmas Eve they made varenyky together, pierogis stuffed with cabbage and potato. Peter said he hadn’t eaten this much cabbage at once before, but for Valentyn it was the perfect blend of his traditional culture and his new life.

  Peter gave Valentyn an antique silver bracelet which turned out to have been Peter’s maternal grandfather’s. Valentyn gave Peter a hefty book of crossword puzzles and a set of bracelets that had been harvested from ocean waste, along with a promise that the purchase of his gift meant twelve pounds of waste had been removed from the earth’s waters.

  “Valechko.” Peter hugged the bracelets to his chest. “You outdid me. What a perfect present.”

  “I’m honored to have mine.” Valentyn flashed his wrist, already sporting the bracelet Peter had given him. “Apparently both of us had jewelry in mind when we thought of gifts.”

  Peter slid onto Valentyn’s lap, lacing his arms around his neck. “I also bought you a small grove of trees.”

  Grinning, Valentyn nipped at his husband’s chin. “I bought you a small forest. Plus I’ve been investigating trips for next fall so we can go plant trees ourselves. It’ll be tricky with teaching, but perhaps we can time it around fall break.”

  “I love you,” Peter whispered against Valentyn’s lips.

  “And I love you,” Valentyn whispered back, sliding his hands beneath his husband’s shirt to unwrap his favorite present of all.

  Christmas Day they went to Littleton with Joe and Helen—and it was a bit of a setback, unfortunately. Diane was frazzled, which meant her anxiety bled out, and Peter began to soak it up. With a permissive nod from Helen, Valentyn kidnapped his husband and took him on a long drive to buy more wine, mostly allowing him a chance to unwind. Things were better once they returned, but Peter stayed quiet until the ride home, during which he vented about his mother and how much she stressed him out. Valentyn listened, then when they were home took Peter to their room and loved the last of his stress out of him.

  After that, Peter had a few days of work, and then it was time for their Telluride getaway.

  Valentyn had been in the mountains to ski once before, but he’d never been in the resort towns during high season and around a holiday to boot. The lodges were packed, the streets full of people. He was glad they’d secured a residence-style condo with its own kitchen and balcony and private soaking tub, as he suspected Peter would need ample time away from the crowd. They took some time stocking their pantry and fridge, indulged in shopping and skiing. They found a charming restaurant and whispered to one another as they watched other guests pass by.

  “You look happy,” Peter remarked as they drove back to their condo. “Relaxed. And you’ve hardly smoked at all lately.”

  Valentyn ran a hand through his hair. “Having my proper papers makes me feel better. All we have now is the interview, and then the waiting period, and I can become a full citizen.” He caught Peter’s hand, drew it to his lips. “Plus I get to spend my time with you. At places like this, in our backyard, in our bedroom. I worry sometimes this is an extended dream and I’ll soon wake up, but if it is, mostly my goal is to stay asleep.”

  They’d returned to the condo by that time, and Peter didn’t say anything to him until they were alone in the elevator. “It’s not a dream,” he said at last, leaning on Valentyn’s arm. “It’s a good thing we’ve found, and we’re going to take care of it, and each other.”

  Valentyn longed to take a particular care of Peter once they were alone in the room, but he made the mistake of soaking with his husband in the tub, which practically put him asleep in the water. Peter apologized in a slurred voice as Valentyn put him to bed, but Valentyn wouldn’t hear of it. “We have days ahead together.”

  Peter caught Valentyn’s face in his hands. “Tomorrow I want to stay in. I want to spend the whole day with you. Just you. And while we watch the fireworks from our balcony, I want to hold you.”

  Valentyn stroked his husband’s hair tenderly. “I can do that for you.”

  Peter’s hand slipped to Valentyn’s neck. “I want to make love to you. I want you to make love to me the way you did when we first met. Wild and unchecked. Filthy and untamed.” He trailed his finger over Valentyn’s Adam’s apple. “Spend from now until then thinking of all the things you want to do to me.”

  Valentyn couldn’t say anything back to that, too stunned to speak, so he watched his husband fall asleep instead.

  He took a bottle of vodka with him to the balcony and smoked several cigarettes as he stared out at the frozen night, thinking of what Peter had said. He supposed he had become a bit tame, settling back into his idea of what a proper relationship should be. Now that he sat still long enough to think about it, though, he acknowledged the part of him that enjoyed being wicked in bed was getting itchy.

  Had Peter seen that? Had he mentioned it because he sensed that in Valentyn before he saw it in himself? Or had he been missing that aspect of their relationship too?

  Leaning against the railing, Valentyn stared out over the beautiful vista before him, marveling at what his life had become. This time the year before he’d been struggling to make a failing relationship work, plotting out his method to acquiring citizenship. Never would he have imagined he was so close to a green card, let alone a relationship with a man he truly loved. He’d started to read the news about Ukraine as information about a place far away, somewhere he wished well but didn’t intend to return to.

  The fear had gone from him now. That was the work of the man sleeping in his bed. He dared to hope now, not only about his chances of staying in the country but of having real happiness.

  So long. He’d waited so long, and it was finally in his hands.

  He finished his cigarette and lit another one, telling himself by this time next year his present to Peter would be that he’d quit smoking for good. So many things seemed possible now. It was easy to keep believing.

  Right now, though, he had another gift to plan. Pulling out his phone, Valentyn laid out his plans to completely undo his husband.

  Chapter Eighteen

  PETER woke to the smell of coffee and bacon, and when he opened his eyes, his husband sat beside him on the bed, a plate of food and mug on the nightstand.

  “Good morning, miy cholovik.” Valya smoothed Peter’s hair away from his forehead. “Did you sleep well?”

  It was an innocent enough question, but something in Valentyn’s tone made Peter shiver in anticipation. “I did.”

  “Good. We have a big day today.” After spearing a bit of egg and bacon, Valya held a forkful of food to Peter’s mouth.

  Peter ate obediently, heart beating faster. Valya was playing some kind of game. He could feel it. And he wanted it.

  At first all that happened was Valya fed him, wiping his mouth betw
een bites, passing him the mug at intervals. It was highly sensual, though, this being cared for.

  “What will we do today?” Peter asked when he couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Hmm.” Valentyn stroked Peter’s hair, looking like he wanted Peter for a snack. “I think we will give you a shower, do some shopping, make dinner together, then spend the evening by the fire.”

  Give you a shower. Peter bit his lip. “Mmm, okay.”

  Valentyn produced another forkful of food. “Eat, mylyy.”

  By the time his plate was empty, Peter was already in a sensual haze. Which meant as Valentyn led him to the shower, he practically floated.

  “Koshenya, you are sweet when you’re so soft,” Valentyn murmured into Peter’s hair as he ran his hands over Peter’s skin.

  Peter leaned into him, clutching Valentyn’s arm as Valya adjusted the water temperature. “Are you showering with me?”

  “Of course.”

  Though Peter had hopes for a sensual adventure, it was largely simply a shower, with Valentyn washing his body and his hair. Peter was hyperaware of his husband’s presence, though, and by the time they’d stepped out and Valentyn toweled them off, Peter trembled so much he could barely stand.

  “Very lovely,” Valentyn said as his hand grazed Peter’s erection. “Let’s get you dressed. We have a lot of shopping to do.”

  Peter stumbled slightly as he turned to frown at Valentyn. “We’re… not…?”

  The look Valentyn gave him stole his breath. “We are. But first, shopping.” He swatted Peter’s bottom lightly. “Clothes, please.”