Green Card

22 Section 240 (Lucas)

"That's one way to put it."

"Why did you tell her, dear?"

"I wanted to be honest with her. Things were finally..." I paused, frustrated with my inability to string two thoughts together. I sighed and set the scotch down. "It was finally starting to feel like a real marriage. I don't believe in keeping secrets from my wife."

Mrs. Clark gave me a sad smile.

"Just one of the reasons why I adore you, dear boy," she said.

"But she left," I finished, sitting back in my chair. "Like she always does."

"So go get her."

I shook my head.

"I can't," I told her. "I've waited six years, Mrs. Clark. I've been as patient with her as I could. I walked a line, keeping a balance between us for six years, giving her the space she wanted, the freedom. But I can't be the only one in this. This relationship can't work if it's one sided. As much as I love her—"

I froze, blinking. Had I really just said that? Had I really just said that I loved her? I looked down at the scotch but knew immediately that was not what had made me say it. Maybe it had loosened my lips, let me speak it out loud, but it was what I had known all along. I told myself that I'd only loved her as a friend for all these years, a friend that I was attracted to, that I was interested in exploring something beyond friendship with. But that wasn't true. I loved Piper Clark the same way I had always loved Piper Clark. It had only ever been love.

"As much as you love her..." Mrs. Clark repeated now, raising a brow and waving her head around as if to urge me to continue.

"I need to know she loves me too," I said, coming to the realization as I said it. "If this marriage is going to work, she cannot run away every time things get hard. And I cannot go chasing her to bring her back."

Mrs. Clark watched me for a moment, a frown on her lips, but then she nodded and stood.

"I understand," she told me. Then she turned and headed for the door.

"Mrs. Clark," I called after her, reaching for the tin foil-covered dish and holding it up, "your dish."

"Keep it," she said. "You need it more than I do tonight, dear boy."

Then she was gone.

To say I was unpleasant at the office the next day would be the understatement of the century. Nate seemed to catch on more quickly than the others that the spat Piper and I had in my office yesterday had turned into a full blown fight and spent the day steering people away from me in response. I let him. I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone and I was worried about what I might say to them if I did anyway.

I told no one that she had left again. I didn't want the pity or the heat it might bring onto the investigation. I just went about my day, tapping out curt responses to emails and snapping at anyone who dared to not do their jobs on that particular day. It wasn't right, my behavior. I realized that around lunch time. But I couldn't get my head straight so I informed Trudy that I would be taking the rest of the day to work from home and I left the building, hoping that everyone else would have a better day without me.

I called Kevin to pick me up and said nothing to him the whole way home. I passed Luisa and Maria in the foyer without a word, locked myself in my office again and took phone call after phone call to catch up on work I'd been too distracted or busy to do when Piper was here. I paid more attention to my tone, measured my voice so that I wasn't snapped at anyone anymore, and even sent an apology email or two to the poor interns I'd shouted at when they hadn't brought me the important paperwork that Valencia had sent them up with for me to sign.

I ate the lasagna that Mrs. Clark had brought me the night before and either Luisa or Maria had the presence of mind to refrigerate. I flipped through paperwork, researched more entertainment law attorneys, reviewed Valencia's request to add a team member to the accounting department, and had an overall productive afternoon.

That is, until I went to get the mail.

I saw the official stamped Manila folder on the counter before anything else. I reached for it first, staring down at the return address.

From the Chambers of Hon. Judge Howard

The Superior Court of California, County of Santa Clara

I tore it open with a frown and read:

U.S. Department of Homeland Security

Notice to Appear

In removal proceedings under section 240 of the Immigration and Nationality Act: In the matter of Lucas Andres Vega currently residing at 431 Crescent Park, Palo Alto, CA, you have been admitted to the United States but are removable for the reasons below. The Department of Homeland Security alleges that you have entered into a marriage for the sole purpose of circumscribing immigration law with Ms. Piper Clark of 8 Washington Mews, New York City, New York.

YOU ARE ORDERED to appear before an immigration judge of the United States Department of Justice at: 190 W Hedding St, San Jose, CA; Courtroom 10, on May 28th at 10:00 am to show why you should not be removed from the United States based on the charge(s) set forth above.

Overcome with anger, I kicked the pole of my mailbox. Then I kicked it again and again until it was bent over at a 45 degree angle. Seething, still holding onto the court summons and breathing hard, I looked over to see my neighbor watching me in shock from his own driveway.

"Morning Brian," I spat and then stormed back into my house.