My Fake Canadian Wife

by M. Hollis

  At some point, she left and came back with a thick book in her hands.

  “Did you choose one, Emma bear?” her mother asked.

  Emma sat on her lap, giving her mother the book. It didn’t look like a children’s book at all.

  “That’s a bit too heavy for Christmas, don’t you think?”

  “What did she choose?” Abby asked. Emma showed her the cover, and Abby’s smile faded. A few people looked at Rick, who was sitting quietly in a chair close to the window.

  “At least she knows how to choose them. That’s my favorite of his,” I said when I recognized the author by the cover.

  “You know uncle’s Ben books?” Emma asked. It was the first time she spoke directly to me.

  I frowned, confused by her question. Uncle Ben? I had a feeling I was supposed to know this as Abby’s girlfriend because she had a serious face and didn’t look back when I tried to discreetly attract her attention.

  “Everyone knows his books,” I said with a small smile.

  “Can’t you choose another?” Abby asked.

  Emma shook her head vehemently. That was the one she wanted.

  “Just one part, please?” she said.

  Rick got up from his chair and walked close to Emma. “I’ll read it.” Emma gave him the book, and Rick sat beside her on the couch.

  He opened it to a specific page as if he knew exactly what part he should read for the little girl. The room fell silent, all eyes eagerly waiting for him. Rick’s clear voice set the perfect tone for the story, a tale about a lonely cop struggling to cope with going back to work after going through a car accident that damaged his leg. It was mostly purple prose about recovery and finding motivation in the little things in life, like being close to your family and friends.

  As Rick’s narration went on, I thought about this new information I had about Abby’s family. Ben Wyatt was the most famous murder mystery author. In fact, he wasn’t only famous, he was on every bestseller list everywhere in the world. His books had such a huge impact that, even years after his death, people still talked about his work.

  And apparently, he was Abby’s uncle.

  WE WENT BACK to Abby’s room to pack our things that afternoon as we had to hit the road as early as possible in the morning. Abby slowly folded her clothes, and I sat on the bed, staring at my bag.

  “You never told me about your uncle,” I said hesitantly as I turned to look at her. I didn’t know if I could ask her about this.

  Abby’s back tensed. She let out a long sigh before turning to me. She didn’t look annoyed or angry, just tired.

  “He was my other godparent. The one who left the apartment to me.”

  “Okay. He’s famous,” I said. “You obviously know that.”

  Abby walked over to the bed, sitting beside me.

  “You don’t have to tell me about this, you know,” I said. “We are not bound by this messy thing we put ourselves in. Couples can have secrets.”

  “Actually, I don’t think we can. It’s not healthy. And it’s okay. I can tell you about it. It’s not something I tell everyone.”

  I nodded, waiting in silence for her to continue.

  “I grew up very close to him. Ben was like my best friend. He got sick when I was still young, and I couldn’t accept that at first. Cancer is a sickness that can quickly beat a person down, but Ben tried his best to stay here for us. They won’t say this, but I think the illness made my family accept Rick easily and made him part of the family. I think, growing up around them made me more open about my sexuality. It made it easier for me to accept myself. When Ben was at the hospital in his last weeks, I told him I liked girls, and he smiled and promised to keep my secret. It took me a few years before I told my parents.”

  Abby paused, fidgeting with her fingers. I took her hand in mine, and she gave me a grateful look. Her eyes were full of tears, and one of them escaped as she quickly brushed it away.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, because it was all I could say.

  “Thanks. He would hate to see me crying about it. Ben always told me we have to take the life we can get. He lived in this world for almost forty years and always felt he was the luckiest person in the world.”

  “He must have been a cool guy.”

  Abby smiled. “He was the best.”

  Once we were done packing, Emma begged Abby to come play with her outside. In the backyard, I watched as Emma, Abby, and Rick built snowmen together. I didn’t want to intrude on this family moment. At some point along the way, Jelly Bean came running through the back door and destroyed one of the snowmen, making Emma squeal, “Jelly! Bad boy!” But soon she was playing and chasing the dog, and everyone laughed.

  Ashley came out of the house, stopping by my side. “Why aren’t you playing?”

  I shrugged. “I like to be an observer sometimes.”

  “I like to be one too,” Ashley said. “She seems different with you.”

  I turned slightly to look at her, curious to learn more about Abby.

  “Abby is more reserved and doesn’t usually let many people in. She’s been lonely and quiet since my brother’s death. But now here she is, bringing a girlfriend to meet the family. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to put pressure on your relationship, merely saying that is good to see her moving on with her life and opening up to new people.”

  That made me feel a thousand times worse. I didn’t want to break her mother’s heart when this was over.

  “I think Abby does it all on her own,” I said, trying to save the situation. “She is an amazing girl. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who’s as resilient and selfless as her.”

  Ashley hummed under her breath. “She definitely is. Abby always wanted to give her all to the world. She wanted to help every person and felt disappointed every time she realized she couldn’t. Losing Ben made her understand life can be cruel in ways that no matter how much love and support you have, it doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt.”

  I smiled sadly, thinking about a little girl crying about her godfather. Life wasn’t fair.

  We turned back to the others, watching as Abby took a snowball to the face. Instead of complaining, she threw her head back and laughed. My fingers itched to capture this moment, and I thought about my camera upstairs, hidden under layers of clothes.

  “Where are you going?” Ashley asked when I walked back to the house.

  “Just need to get something!”

  A minute later I was back, camera in my hands. While Abby and Rick played with little Emma, I took pictures of them, entranced by their laughter and freedom. It was the picture-perfect Christmas family afternoon.

  At night, when I was about to hide my camera in my bag once more, I took a last look at the pictures—Emma’s hair flying as she jumped in the snow, paw marks Jelly Bean imprinted in the snow, Abby’s glove forgotten where it lay, and the last one: all three making snow angels.

  In all the photos, I could feel the connection between them. Not simply family, but more than that—I could see they all belonged because they loved each other. And that happened because of Ben. He was long gone, and yet he still influenced the people he left behind.

  In the back of my mind, a new idea for my school project began to take shape.

  Chapter Twelve

  THE JOURNEY BACK home was quiet and peaceful. Abby played her rock music on the radio, and I didn’t complain. We shared the cookies her mom had given us for the trip, and on my lap, I had a flower Emma gave me before I left the house.

  She’d really liked me as Abby’s girlfriend. I hoped we didn’t crush her dreams about what romance was like when she knew the truth.

  While Abby drove, I checked my social media. There were a bunch of new Tumblr messages about the picture I posted the other day, and I smiled as I read them. I opened my Facebook page, finding many likes and comments on the pictures Abby and I had posted together.

  We didn’t make our togetherness public to everyone. But it was good to have proo
f of our relationship for the immigration people. Abby had changed her status to “it’s complicated.” I was still on the fence.

  We had lied to her family. She had lied to her family for me, and I couldn’t do the same. How hypocritical of me to keep asking so much of her without giving anything back.

  Abby parked in front of my building, and we stayed there for a minute longer in silence. She looked at me from the corner of her eye, probably hoping I’d say something first. I kind of wanted to tell her right then I had made my choice about us. But we had just gotten back from a weekend with her family, and it seemed too early for that.

  “Thanks for bringing me. I had fun,” I said instead.

  Abby’s eyes stared at me sadly as if I had said something wrong. “No problem. See you soon.”

  I nodded, getting my backpack from the back seat and leaving the car. I walked up the stairs of my building and turned around to wave a last goodbye. Abby gave me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, leaving me there with my thoughts.

  MY SCHEDULE WENT back to normal then. Every morning I ran to work, listened to the customers, cleaned tables, and mostly ignored Paige’s questions about Christmas. She seemed too enthusiastic after spending the holidays with her boyfriend.

  I had to inform Abby of my decision when we met again. I was eagerly waiting to end everything, but also hesitant in case she took this the wrong way.

  A week passed before Abby came back to the store. She’d sent me a text the night before, letting me know she would wait for me at the end of my shift. I could think of nothing else all day and missed a few calls from the kitchen, broke a cup, and had to listen to an angry customer yelling at me about his cold coffee.

  Luckily, the boss wasn’t in today. He would have had a fit.

  When my shift was finally over, I left my apron in the storage room, got my backpack, and walked to the deck. I knew Abby would be there waiting for me.

  She was sitting at the farthest table, reading a new romance book. Paige passed by, looking from me to Abby like she knew what was about to happen. Maybe Abby had told her already. Paige didn’t say anything, only patted me on the shoulder and let me go.

  I dropped into the chair across from Abby and waited for her to finish the page she was reading. I knew by now that she didn’t like to stop her reading when she was in the middle of a passage. When she was done, she closed the book carefully and looked up at me with a small smile.

  I tried to restrain the little flutter my stomach made at this and failed.

  “Hi,” I said in a weak voice. Abby’s smile faded quickly at my uncertainty. “Do you want to go first?”

  Abby nodded. She placed the book on the table, resting back against the chair.

  “I think I’d like to keep this going. I’m happy to help you stay here, Dora.”

  I raised my hands to my face, brushing them over my eyes. This was not how this was supposed to go. She was supposed to hate this whole thing and give up before me. Why was the ball back in my court? Why had I found the best girl in Toronto for my awful plans?

  I hated making decisions on my own more than anything in the world. It was the reason why it took me so long to move away from my parents’ house at the time, and the only way I could do it was by moving to a country miles and miles away from them. But when I decided to remake my life, I didn’t imagine this was the kind of decision I’d have to make.

  After calming myself, I placed my hands on the table. It was best to be straight with Abby as it would hurt less in the long run. “I’m so grateful for everything you’ve been doing for me, Abby.” She crossed her arms tightly against her chest. I wanted to reach out and touch her but knew I shouldn’t. “But I don’t think it’s fair to do this to you.”

  “What do you mean not fair?”

  “I’m messing up your life. You just lied to your whole family, and I didn’t even tell my mom anything about us. I know you want to help, but I don’t feel good about it. I’m so sorry.”

  Abby stared at me in silence.

  How could she not see this wasn’t right?

  “You don’t need to be with me out of a sense of nobility,” I said. “I’m going to be fine on my own even if I have to go back home. It’s okay if you can’t help everyone, Abby.”

  I thought she was going to get up and leave me, but she blinked a few times and bowed her head.

  “You don’t have to be sorry.” Her voice sounded tired. “You’re right. I think I got caught up in the excitement of being involved in all of this. And maybe it made me feel better about myself that I could do it. It was stupid.” She laughed dryly. “I can’t believe we almost did that!”

  “It’s not stupid.” I leaned over the table, reaching for her hand. Abby hesitated, but she backed away slightly, and my hand grasped empty air. “You’re an amazing woman, Abby. I loved hanging out with you these last few months. Despite the mess, I think it was worth it to be your fake future wife just so I could get to know you. And I really want us to stay friends.”

  Abby looked me in the eyes then. It felt like she was finally seeing me, truly seeing me for the very first time.

  “I think that would be nice,” she said with a smile.

  And that was it. The end of us.

  Chapter Thirteen

  TO DISTRACT MYSELF from the breakup with Abby, I spent the next few days busy with my project. I used my camera all over the city, taking pictures in different places with the objects I had chosen for my idea. After only a week, I had enough to start.

  Within a few days, my old skills came back, and in no time, I had the beginnings of a good portfolio to present as a proposal to Professor T. Black-and-white pictures of Toronto in a different light. In the center of each picture, a colorful object told a story. A red shoe someone left behind in Dufferin Grove Park. A green backpack in the subway. A pink scarf flying through University Avenue in the middle of the night. That had been a tricky one, but Julie helped me with the effect.

  I smiled as I looked through the pictures, proud of my project. I was so happy about finishing that I sent a copy of the email to Abby and added a little note.

  You inspired me to go back to my art.

  Thank you.

  Here’s a short preview of my new work. I call it GONE, BUT NOT FORGOTTEN.

  Not even an hour later, Abby sent me a long message congratulating me on my proposal and wishing me luck. And with her encouragement, I felt even better about what I had done.

  But then, I remembered there was still a possibility that I had to leave this all behind. I had to be realistic. Many other students were sending their ideas too. This soured my mood, and I started the slow process of deciding which clothes I’d take back home and which I’d sell or give away.

  Mom called me on Skype one night. She was excited to know I was going back home after I sent her a message with the news. I missed her, but I still didn’t want to move back to Brazil. My brother even sent me messages like who’s that cute girl in your pictures? Which reminded me I had to take them down. But did I really have to? If we were still going to be friends, it was okay to have them in my profile.

  Julie walked through my door as I finished packing a bag of old clothes for donation on my free Wednesday, two mugs of coffee in her hands.

  “Do you want one?” she asked.

  “Yes, please,” I said, taking one of the mugs for myself. It smelled like home. Our home. I sat on my bed, looking at the bedroom that had finally started to feel like mine after all these months living here.

  “I’m guessing it didn’t work out with your girl?” Julie asked.

  “She isn’t my girl.” I placed the mug on my bedside table and went back to folding clothes.

  “Geez. Sorry. I’m gonna leave you to that.” Before leaving, Julie added, “If you need my help or just some company, you know where to find me.”

  I didn’t say anything, waiting for her to leave me alone. I was tired and annoyed at this whole situation.

  My phone vibr
ated, and I brushed over the screen, finding a message from Professor T.

  Come to my office in two hours. I want to discuss your proposal.

  My hands were shaking when I finished reading these words. I stopped packing my things immediately and searched for a decent jacket and my best pair of jeans.

  I moved to the living room, grabbed my helmet and opened the door right as Julie started to ask, “Where are you going? Hey? Dora?”

  I ignored her in my hurry and ran down the stairs.

  Twenty-five minutes later, I parked my bike at the university. There was still a little snow on the ground, but I managed to make it there safely. I didn’t realize how fast I was walking until I burst open the door to Professor T’s room.

  “Hey, I’m…” I stopped, noticing the couple in tailored suits sitting in front of her desk. “Sorry!”

  “I said two hours,” Professor T said with wide eyes. “Can you wait outside, Ms. Alves?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  I walked out the door, throwing my body in one of the wooden chairs in the waiting area. I tried to calm my breathing and hold my patience. The minutes passed slower than ever. People walked through the corridor, barely looking at me. I wondered if any of them used to be my peers when I studied here, but I didn’t recognize their faces.

  It took half an hour before the door to Professor T’s room opened again. The couple I saw earlier came out and closed the door behind them. I waited for five more minutes. Then, Professor T finally opened the door with a small smile for me.

  “Come in, Isadora.”

  I jumped from my chair, entered her office and sat again, trying not to fidget. She moved around her papers until she found what she was looking for. Then she stared at me.

  “I absolutely love your proposal.”

  I let out a huge sigh of relief. Anything else she had to say could only be good.

  But it wasn’t only good. It was beyond my wildest hopes.