Chapter 31 #3
“Absolutely. We’ve drilled it into our sons so well that none of them have dared get housekeepers.
They’re generally all very tidy, but they know none of their parents would allow such laziness that they couldn’t clean up after themselves in their own homes.
Once in a while, they’ll have somebody come in if they’ve hosted a family party or if they’ve been out of town long enough for dust to accumulate.
But don’t let my sobrino fool you. He should have dishpan hands and know how to scrub a toilet. ”
As humorous as her tone is, I know she’s not exaggerating.
“I’ll be sure to remember that too.”
I force myself not to look back at the kitchen, but I still wonder why Elle is among the men when none of them are laughing anymore. It appears like a very serious conversation. It makes me wonder if it’s work-related or perhaps if it has something to do with me.
If it does, then why is Elle there?
Jorge made it abundantly clear women and children are meant to be kept away from Cartel dealings.
I don’t necessarily feel suspicious, but my curiosity is certainly heightened.
In the car on the way back to Jorge’s—or rather—our condo, he explains without me having to ask.
It’s a bit unnerving how he often reads my mind.
“Liesel, Tía Elle’s family history is about as complicated as mine. She knows things most people wouldn’t about Cartel life because of her upbringing.”
I wait for Jorge to say more, but he offers nothing else. It’s basically what he told me the other day. I test the water.
“Your mother and aunts also grew up in syndicate life, but they weren’t part of that conversation.”
“No, they weren’t, though I know my father often involved my mother more than he probably should’ve. He trusted no one’s opinion more than Mamá’s. I suspect the same is true for Tía Margherita and Tío Luis, and Tía Catalina and Tío Matáis.”
“So, will they explain everything to their wives when they get home?”
“Perhaps some, but not all.”
I want to ask more, even demand a full explanation now that Jorge’s opened the door to this topic.
But it’s a test. Not one he’s giving me, but one I’m giving myself to accept these half-truths and half-explanations he warned me about.
I have to be okay with not knowing everything.
He’s explained as much as he can, and I know he could’ve said nothing or come up with a lie.
This situation is so different from anything I’ve experienced in the past. If I’d been with another boyfriend who refused to tell me anything about what he was up to, I wouldn’t have trusted him.
It would’ve caused trouble between us. Yet, I accept what Jorge’s telling me and not telling me because I understand he’s doing it with the best of intentions to protect me.
At the same time, he’s telling me what he can, so I don’t feel entirely excluded. He’s doing his best to find middle ground, and I appreciate that, even if I wish I knew more of what’s going on.
We’re headed to Enrique’s for a second time in two days.
I wasn’t prepared to return so soon after being here last night, but apparently the men have a meeting.
Jorge confided it’s about my situation and me along with trying to figure out exactly what happened with my father.
It’s an even greater surprise when Jorge guides me to the dining room where Florencia’s sitting with a man, and papers are spread in front of them.
It’s jarring when Jorge calls me Anne as he makes the introductions.
“This is Randolph McKenzie. He’s an immigration attorney who’s been working with Florencia to get her papers in order for work permits and a green card. I thought it would be a good idea for you to speak with him as well.”
An attorney with an Irish last name? That’s a question for later.
“Oh—yes—I suppose that’s a good idea since I’m technically here on a tourist visa. The last time I lived in the States, I was here on a student one. I hadn’t thought about this.”
It’s another heavy weight on top of the mountain of them from the events of the past nearly two months of knowing Jorge.
I suppose in the back of my mind, I knew I’d have to sort this out since I agreed to come to America with Jorge.
I assumed it was a permanent move. It was easier to believe that than to go back and forth in my mind about whether I should do this.
I just leapt headlong into it. Seeing an immigration attorney makes all of this very real.
I don’t have any doubts or reservations.
It’s just a reminder of what a massive decision I’ve made to not only leave Germany and my family, but to come here to be with a man I haven’t known very long.
An outsider looking in would likely say I’m certifiable or at the very least impetuous and naive.
I’ve had moments of those thoughts throughout all of this, yet I’m able to silence them easily before they can become doubts.
My certainty that Jorge is the man I’m meant to be with far outweighs my worries of what someone else might think.
“Chica.”
Jorge’s voice is soft beside my ear. His hand was on my waist, but it slides down to my hip, precariously close to my ass.
Whenever it’s there, it’s just as reassuring and delightfully possessive as it is when his hand rests at my lower back.
It’s often there when we’re walking together, if his arm isn’t around my waist or my shoulders, or he’s not holding my hand.
When his hand is at my lower back, it feels protective, while the hand near my ass is affectionate. I love both.
“Are you all right? I know this is a lot. I thought it would be a good idea since he’s already here to speak to Florencia.
I thought the two of you might like some moral support, so neither of you feels alone in all of this.
I also thought it was practical to get the ball rolling sooner rather than later and to have you meet with him since I needed to be here anyway.
But if this is too much and not what you want to do, then you don’t have to meet with Randy. ”
Randy and Florencia are discussing something again now that introductions are done. I know it’s a courtesy since Jorge began speaking to me.
“It’s a lot to take in, but I’m not opposed to it. It’s smart to get the paperwork in order sooner rather than later. I’d hate for there to be any complications that force me back to Germany.”
“Randy will help you navigate what the best options are, whether it’s a work visa for you to set up an American office of Schlossberg & Sons or you working for Tío Matáis, or having me as a significant other being your sponsor.”
“I don’t know if a boyfriend is enough, Jorge. I thought it had to be a spouse. That’s the way it is in the movies at least.”
“For a green card, it does have to be a spouse. Randy is clever and knows immigration law as though he were born to it. He knows how to find any loophole we could possibly use for me as just a boyfriend. More likely than not, he can make it work through employment rather than any personal relationship.”
I observe Jorge closely as he explains some potential options.
I don’t think he’d propose to me merely for me to get a green card, and I wouldn’t accept a proposal just for one.
Neither of us would enter a marriage for a document, but it’s important we both understand all of the options and implications.
“I’d like to hear what Randy has to say.”
“All right, little one. I’ll be in Tío Enrique’s office. If you need anything, it’s down the hall. But it would be best if you called or texted rather than just come and knock on the door.”
I look down the hallway in the direction he points. I understand he means only knock on the door if it’s an emergency. Otherwise, don’t go where I could potentially overhear something I shouldn’t.
Yes, Daddy.
I mouth my response, so neither Randy nor Florencia can hear. He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling out the chair next to Randy. Florencia’s on one side of the attorney, and I’m on the other. Then he disappears down the hallway.