Chapter 16
CATARINA
When you’re worried about getting kicked out of the country, your perspective changes vastly about what you find important in your life. The last week, every day I had thought about so many lasts—some sillier than others.
Will this be the last time I’ll sneak out during the afternoon to eat at Subway?
Will this be the last time I’ll throw a dollar to that panhandler who says ‘have a wonderful day’ to every single person who passes by, whether they give him money or not?
On the way to pick up Dustin LeBlanc, aka El Hubs, at the airport, my mind swirled with anxiety but also hope. Because this wouldn’t be the last week I was in the United States. For all of the joking around Dustin did, I had to admit he was a smooth operator when he needed to be.
He came out of the airport’s sliding doors right as I pulled up.
“Cat Dog!” he said as I got out and opened the trunk for him.
“Can we find a different nickname? Even Kit Cat was better. I feel like you’re calling me one of your bros or something. ‘Yo, what up Cat Dawg!’”
He laughed, kissed me hello, then made an exaggerated sad face. “You don’t like it? I worked really hard on that nickname.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Okay, I didn’t. I came up with it reflexively in two seconds. You got me.”
We headed to the immigration office for our afternoon appointment with Mr. Winterborne.
“That can’t be his name. That sounds made up or taken straight out of Game of Thrones,” Dustin was saying as a car cut in front of me and slammed on the brakes. “Geez! Watch the road, for goodness sakes.”
“I am watching the road,” I replied as we waited at the red light. “I also have a lot on my mind right now. I feel like we’re going into this interview a little cold.”
“Even after our chat last night?”
I felt my stomach flutter as the light turned green.
“Do you have any idea what happens if we get caught in a fraudulent marriage?” I asked.
He shrugged. “We’ll get a divorce. You have to go back to Spain. There’s a little blowback.”
I shook my head as I turned into the parking garage, taking a ticket. “A little blowback? Dustin, we could go to prison for Fraud. Seriously! I was getting all nervous today so I did some Googling around.”
“We’ll be fine. We improvised the other day in front of that crowd. We’ll do it again.”
I looked at Dustin. One of the things I was beginning to realize I both liked—and hated—about him was that he never seemed to lose self-confidence, even for a moment. It was a talent I lacked, so I was probably more envious than anything.
“I hope you’re right.”
An hour later and a half hour past our appointment time, a raven-haired man in his forties exited Mr. Winterborne’s office, face in hands, crying. For the first time since I met him, I saw the look of invincibility leave Dustin’s face.
“What do you think happened to him?” I asked.
Before Dustin could answer, we were called inside the office.
Mr. Winterborne was a peppery haired, balding man who sat behind his desk, looking at his computer and ignoring us as we came inside.
We entered and looked around for a few moments. His office was messy, with papers strewn about and shelves of disorganized books.
He sighed, finally bringing his gaze up from his computer. “Another day, another deportation.”
We froze.
“Um, what’s that?” Dustin asked, tentatively.
“Oh, I mean, not you, the poor fellow before you. Well, I’m not saying you’re staying.
Ah, that came out wrong. Sorry for getting you in late.
Long day. These government cutbacks have been brutal.
I’m doing the job of ten people. And some people just don’t understand that once they’ve got to go, they’ve got to go! ”
He meant it as a joke but we certainly didn’t find it funny. Nervousness crept up my throat, and I felt my face warm. Luckily, Dustin led the charge.
“Mr. Winterborne, no worries about the wait and thanks for seeing us. It’s a pleasure to be meeting with you today.” Dustin shook hands with the man. I followed suit.
“I wish I could say the same,” Mr. Winterborne said, and we both froze.
“Uh, pardon me?” Dustin asked.
An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment, and my heart skipped a beat. My first instinct was that he knew. Mr. Winterborne already knew that we were a sham of a couple. But how?
“Because I’m a Washington, D.C. hockey fan!
Go Cougars!” he finally grinned. “I’m not just going to grant an easy visa to Landon Demarco’s arch-rival’s wife, now, am ?
!” he went on. The man began to laugh, albeit awkwardly, as he pointed to a Washington D.C.
Cougars hockey pennant in the corner of the office behind us.
A wave of relief came over me, although I could not get this guy’s brand of humor. I guess when you had a boring job, you did what you could.
“Oh. It’s a joke! I get it,” Dustin said, forcing a smile.
Dustin caught my eye, and we both laughed, trying hard to sound natural. We didn’t.
“Of course it’s a joke! What do you think, I give visa applicants a hard time based on whether or not you like my team? Preposterous. Although that was a pretty low blow you made on Demarco the other day, wasn’t it?”
I could see Dustin clenching a fist, and I knew he was restraining himself with every iota of his being, so I interjected.
“My husband doesn’t really like talking about hockey when he’s not in the arena. It’s sort of a mental thing. You know what they say! ‘Leave it all on the ice!’”
Never in my life had I heard someone say leave it all on the ice. B.S. improvisation had officially commenced.
“She knows me so well,” Dustin said, putting his hand on my knee.
“Of course, she would know you well.” Mr. Winterborne stood up and circled around his desk, and then leaned back on it, crossing his arms. “Because you’re married.
” Any trace of a grin left his face as he said those three words, and he squinted closely at us.
“And that’s exactly my job. To find out just how well you two know each other, and to make sure this isn’t a sham marriage just for the purpose of a green card.
” His voice had changed from hockey jokes to serious interrogation.
I laughed. “People do that? Unbelievable.”
“You would be surprised what people think they could get away with,” Mr. Winterborne said. “It’s like people don’t understand that five years of prison for marriage fraud is a thing! Well, and the two-hundred-fifty thousand dollar fine.”
I cleared my throat, and I was hoping this was another one of the man’s jokes. “Five years of prison?”
“Yes indeed. Five years hard time!” He waved his hand in the air. “I don’t want to bore you with the details. Shoot, you don’t want to end up in prison! Obviously. Although, it would certainly give Washington a better chance at the Stanley Cup!”
Dustin laughed, playing it well. “Oh man, you crack me up, Mr. Winterborne. Anyhow, what do we have to do to get you to finalize these papers?”
Mr. Winterborne took a deep breath and his expression veered toward extremely serious. “I’ll be blunt with you two. I saw the snapchat from Saturday morning. And I received a phone call today from someone indicating that I should take a very deep look into your . . . union.”
“Who would that be from?” I asked.
“That’s none of your concern,” Mr. Winterborne answered.
“Now see, due to the public nature of this case, I’m going to be taking a very, very close look at everything.” He leaned in closer. “And when I say everything, I mean it. Everything. A public marriage like this that is going to keep a non-citizen in the country is precedent setting.”
We both swallowed hard.
“We would love that,” I said. “It will give us a chance to explore our relationship more deeply.”
“Fantastic,” Mr. Winterborne said. “Then I’ll be conducting your individual interviews in the next few weeks.”
“Did you just say, ‘individual interviews?’” I asked.
“Yes. I’m going to quiz you about each other’s lives, that kind of thing. Easy peasy, you know, like ‘where is Dustin’s father from?’”
“Perfect,” I said.
“No, that’s like a real question,” Mr. Winterborne said. “Where was Dustin’s father from?”
My tell-tale heart beat so loudly, I could only hope he didn’t hear it.
Dustin put a finger up. “She knows I really don’t like talking about this,” he said. “Because I was mostly raised by my grandparents.”
“I see.” Mr. Winterborne still seemed suspicious. “Tell me then, how do you fall in love and get married in Las Vegas . . . in one night? That’s quite quick. What . . . what did it?”
I wanted to poke him and say I told you so.
Dustin looked at me and nodded solemnly. “Great question. And it was . . .”
Both Mr. Winterborne and I waited on pins and needles as he drifted off, smiling as if recalling a fond dream.
“Her head.” He winked at the immigration offer.
“Her . . . head?” Mr. Winterborne asked.
“That’s right. Her head.” Dustin leaned over and wrapped both of his hands around my cranium.
“Do you understand how smart she is? There is so much knowledge in here, Mr. Winterborne. It’s uncanny.
She’s a doctor, and has the biggest head of anyone I know with so much knowledge in there. It’s so big. I mean just look at it.”
I wanted to die, right there on that bland beige carpet. Please, just tell him this is a joke and then be serious. For the love of God. I swallowed hard and could feel my skin starting to heat.
“Her brain is ginormous. But you know what, it’s not even the biggest thing she has.”
“Oh no?” Mr. Winterborne said, clearly curious.
Dustin shook his head. “That would be her heart.”
I died a second death internally, trying to keep a straight face on the outside.
Are you trying to win a freaking Oscar here?
What on earth are you doing? I wished he could read my mind so I could tell him exactly what I was thinking.
He might not understand all of the expletives though, since they’d be in Catalan.
“Dustin loves to joke around,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Besides, we’ve known each other since college days and kept in touch over the years. This is just sort of our dynamic as a couple.”
“Oh, I see,” Mr. Winterborne said as he scribbled something down.
“Not joking,” Dustin winked. “I love everything about her. A guy like me, I might be good at hockey, but I’m not that smart. Can you imagine what a kid will be like with my athletic prowess and her brains? It will essentially be a superman! Or woman!”
Mr. Winterborne stood up. “Let me make something clear. I don’t take fondly to those who think they are above law and order, and I’m getting a strong sense that you’re not taking this questioning seriously. I have a backlog of interviews, and you appear to be making a mockery of my role.”
Dustin cleared his throat. “Quite the contrary, sir. I’m very serious about how smart my wife is.”
“Thank you. That will be all. Mr. and Mrs…wait a minute. Have you changed your name yet?” he asked.
“Not officially.”
“Interesting. Have a nice day, you two.”
Mr. Winterborne wrote something else down, shaking his head. I covered my face with my hands.