What Were You Expecting? (41 page)

“Just quickly, Nils…what if it’s not? What if it’s not okay?” Her green eyes were bright and anxious as they searched his. He flipped over his wrist and looked at his watch. They had eight minutes before their appointment. Finding a park bench set under a dogwood tree near the building’s entrance, he pulled her down beside him, putting his arm around her shoulders.

“We need to think positively. We’re Maggie and Nils Lindstrom. That’s who we are. That’s who we’ve become.”

“What if we can’t convince them?”

“We will.”

She swallowed, and he reached over to take her free hand as her eyes swam with unshed tears. “If I get sent back to Scotland—”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“Please, Nils.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “If we fail and you’re sent back to Scotland, we’ll still figure it out. Being deported doesn’t mean we’re not married anymore.”

“It could be years.”

“Then I’ll earn a lot of frequent flier miles flying back and forth.”

Her shoulders rolled forward a little with despair and he dropped her hand to tilt her chin up with his finger. “Maggie?”

“I love you,” she whispered with tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes.

“We stay together,” he answered. “You’re my wife.”

“We stay married.”

She gave him a brave smile and took a deep breath, accepting his handkerchief to dab her eyes.

“Come on, Mrs. Lindstrom,” he said, standing up and offering her the hand that wore his grandfather’s wedding ring. “It’s time.”

***

“Miss Campbell…”

“Mrs. Lindstrom, please. Or Maggie.”

The interviewer, a surly, attractive man in his early thirties, nodded curtly. “Mrs. Lindstrom. I’m Officer Galvez. We’re going to jump right in. This is the Stokes interview to ascertain the validity of your marriage. I’ll ask questions. You answer them. If you don’t have answer, respond ‘Skip.’ Shall we begin? Good. What kind of toothpaste does your husband use?”

Maggie flattened her cold hands on the serviceable conference table. Other than the two chairs she and Officer Galvez occupied, it was the only furniture in the small room. No windows. No clock. Just a security camera in the corner. Her eyes flicked to it.

“Mrs. Lindstrom. His favorite toothpaste, if you please.”

“C-crest.”

“Does your husband wear briefs or boxer-style underwear?”

“Boxers.”

“Do you use birth control?”

“A-aye.” She knew she would be asked these sorts of questions, but the rapid fire manner in which she was being interviewed was jarring and the question embarrassed her. It felt invasive, intrusive, inappropriate.

“What kind?”

“W-what?”

“Birth control. What do you use?”

She wrinkled her brows for a moment before answering. “The-the pill.”

“Does your husband have any tattoos?”

“Aye. Two small crosses. Over his heart. Here.” She touched the skin over her breast gingerly, but Officer Galvez didn’t look up.

“Your husband’s cell phone plan?”

“What?”

“Is it the same as yours? Are you on a family plan?”

Maggie glanced away from Officer Galvez’s bent head, feeling panic overtake her. She had no idea. She had no idea what cell service Nils used.

“I’m assuming you see the bill come in from time to time?”

“I don’t pay his bills.”

“His?”

“Our
bills. I don’t pay our bills,” she repeated meekly and then she added, “Skip.”

The immigration officer looked up sharply, holding her eyes for a moment before looking back down at his clipboard and marking something. Maggie’s pulse started racing, which is why she made a very bad decision when it came to the next question.

“And how does your husband pay the bills, Mrs. Lindstrom? Online or via checks?”

She had no idea, but she couldn’t bear to say “skip” again…

“Checks.”

…so she guessed.

***

“Mr. Lindstrom.”

“Nils, please.”

The older gentleman glanced up from his clipboard and nodded briefly. “I’m Officer Sherwood. This is the Stokes interview to ascertain the validity of your marriage to Margaret Leslie Campbell. This interview is being recorded via closed circuit camera. I’ll ask questions. You answer them. If you don’t have answer, simply respond ‘Skip.’ Any questions before we begin?”

“No, sir.”

“Does your wife have any allergies?’

“She gets hives from strawberries.”

“Who does the grocery shopping?”

“It depends on who’s making dinner.”

“You
make dinner?”

“Yes, sir.” Nils nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Does your wife’s place have cable television?”

“Our
place has cable television, yes.”

“What kind of shampoo does your wife use?”

“Strawberry.”

“Ironic,” said Agent Sherwood dryly.

“She’s not allergic to the smell.”

“Does she have any tattoos?”

“No, sir.”

“Was your wife born in Scotland?”

“No, sir.”

“Where was she born?”

“Ireland.”

“What part?”

Shoot. Nils looked down at the table where he’d folded his hands. It began with a C. Or a K? A C or a K. Damn it. Cork? Was it Cork?

“Cork.”

The interviewer looked up from his documents, raising an eyebrow.

“Kerry?”

“There’s only one right answer, Mr. Lindstrom.”

Nils’s palms started sweating. Fifty-fifty chance. “Kerry. She was born in a convent in Kerry.”

Agent Sherwood cleared his throat, marking the form on the clipboard.

“Does your wife suffer from menstrual cramps?”

Nils’s eyes widened, thrown off by the intimacy of the question. As his heart picked up speed, making him feel panicky, he realized he didn’t know. They certainly hadn’t discussed it. She must have kept her time of the month private because he didn’t remember her having it, let alone complaining of discomfort.

“Mr. Lindstrom. Does your wife suffer from menstrual cramps?”

He looked up, feeling like a deer in the headlights, his face flushing uncomfortably hot as he tried to think about something other than Maggie having her time of the month.

“I…I mean, I…um, skip.”

Agent Sherwood took a deep breath and sighed as he marked his clipboard again.

“Do you have a joint checking account?”

“Not yet, sir.”

“Who pays the common bills?”

“I do.”

“Via check or an online bill pay?”

“It’s all automated, sir. I don’t even own a checkbook.”

“Do you plan to start a family?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“We’re not sure yet.” Nils unfolded his hands, placing them flat on the table and trying to sound confident and self-assured.

“Did you discuss children during your courtship?”

“We…I mean, we
do
discuss it.”

“I see.”

He thought of Maggie’s face when he told her he didn’t want to get her pregnant, didn’t want biological children. He thought of the sadness in her eyes when she shared that she’d be willing to adopt. Her brave smile. And suddenly he couldn’t bear to discuss it with a stranger drilling him on shampoo brands and joint checking accounts. It was none of their business. It was none of their goddamned business.

“Did you discuss children during your courtship?”

He looked up and before he could stop himself, he growled, “Skip.”

***

Maggie had been sitting in a chair in the hallway for several minutes when Nils finally joined her, lowering his body down beside her and reaching for her hand immediately. She didn’t think that was a very good sign.

“How did it go?” she asked.

He shrugged, looking down at their hands.

“Nils? How did you do?”

“I skipped a few,” he muttered.

Maggie swallowed back the lump in her throat.

“You?” he asked.

“I skipped a few, too.”

“How many?” he asked.

“Five or six,” she answered.

“You?”

“Four.”

“And I guessed on two,” she confessed.

“Beck said never to guess.”

“How do you pay bills?” she practically whispered.

“Online,” said Nils, looking over at her.

She nodded miserably, forcing her face to remain impassive. There was no point in letting him know she’d been wrong. It was too late, and her heart plummeted as she realized that more likely than not, she wouldn’t be returning to Gardiner with Nils tonight. She’d be deported. She dropped his hand, standing up with her back to him and crossing her arms over her chest.

From his seat on the bench behind her, his voice was soft and gentle, but utterly devoid of hope. “Whatever happens, Maggie, we’ll figure it out.”

Tears flooded her eyes and she nodded, unable to turn around and look at him. All of the hours they’d put into studying hadn’t been enough. They had almost certainly failed.

Suddenly she felt his arms circling her waist and she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. She spun around to lay her wet cheek against the crisp white Sunday shirt covering his chest, breathing in the fresh soap, slightly spicy smell of him.
This is where we belong
, screamed her heart and her mind in unison.
This is where I belong.
Here with him!

Nils ran his hands soothingly up and down the back of her simple summer dress as her shoulders trembled with silent tears of exhaustion and fear and sorrow, until she finally got a hold of herself and he led her back to the chairs, pulling her down beside him. She leaned her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her, gently massaging her shoulder. “Whatever happens, we’ll…”

His voice trailed off and she heard the sound of a door opening down the hallway. She looked up, drying her eyes quickly to see Agent Galvez and an older man smiling and nodding at another man, whose back was turn to them. Maggie rose slowly, realization kicking in at the same time Beck Westman turned around and made eye contact with her.

“Beck…” she whispered to herself, confusion making her voice breathy and unsure.

Beck offered Maggie an easy smile, keeping his eyes trained on her as he approached, followed by the agents.

“Heya, Lindstroms! I was just talking to Juan Carlos and Frank here. JC and I were in law school together and when he realized I was the officiating lawyer for your wedding, he gave me a call. Since I was here in Billings today, anyway, I thought I’d stop by and say a quick hello.”

Maggie’s eyes flicked back and forth between Officer Galvez and Beck. “You’re friends?”

Beck turned to his friend and chuckled. “Loved watching that Stokes interview back at U of M. Eh, JC?”

Officer Galvez grinned. “Just enforcing the law, Becker. You know me.”

Beck smiled back at his old school friend. “I meant to ask…how’s Collette?”

Maggie hadn’t realized that Agent Galvez had teeth—she certainly hadn’t seen hide nor hair of them during the interview. “Pregnant with number four.”

“Law ain’t all you’re enforcing, brother.”

Officer Galvez slapped Beck on the back with a thundering chuckle then looked to the older agent standing beside him. “You go to lunch, Frank. I got this. I’ll wrap it up.”

Frank shook Beck’s hand and gave Nils a brief, thoughtful nod before turning and heading back down the hall.

Officer Galvez turned to Maggie and Nils. “Come on back inside, folks. We’ll finish this up quick and then we’ll go grab a burger, Becker. You can fill me in on small-town life.”

“Good enough. I’ll meet you out front.”

As Beck passed by Maggie he winked then continued down the hallway.

Once they were seated in Officer Galvez’s office, he tapped on their file. “Frank and I agreed that you were borderline. I recommended that we fail you, but Frank said he thought you were legit. Because we were split, we would have had to comb through your answers before meeting with you together. Or we might’ve had you come back tomorrow. At any rate, it would’ve been a long day.”

Maggie swallowed nervously, reaching for Nils’s hand under the table. He laced his fingers through hers quickly, squeezing her hand.

Officer Galvez opened the file and pulled out the form on top, signed the bottom, then took a stamp from his desk drawer and stamped the form three times.