by Daisy May
I opened my eyes. “We don’t need to manifest good sex. We can do that on our own. We need to picture every detail, and I don’t want to get distracted.”
Just looking at him could distract me, if I let it. I felt like leaning in and kissing him, and maybe never stopping.
“Fine,” he said. “After we got out of bed, we’d make some breakfast. Or would we go out?”
I closed my eyes again, squeezing his hand. “We’d make it here, the three of us together. Kerry would help make the batter.”
“Batter for what?”
“Waffles,” I said. “In this future, we’re going to have a waffle maker.”
“I didn’t know you wanted one. We could’ve gotten one.”
“Doesn’t matter now. We’d eat the waffles, and then maybe some fruit. That should be enough food.”
“It must be getting late by now,” Cole said. “I guess it’s the weekend.”
“Maybe you don’t work so much in this future,” I said carefully. “You work so much in real life.”
Even without seeing him, I could hear the guilt in Cole’s voice. “I know, but I have to.”
I would’ve liked to know if he pictured himself working so much in his ideal world. Or rather, if he imagined there’d ever be a time when he could work less. Sometimes his schedule drove me crazy.
“Let’s figure it’s a weekend,” I said. “What do we do next? Jump in the pool? Or head to the beach?”
“I think the beach would be more fun for Kerry,” Cole said. “We’d have fun there, too.”
“Which beach? South Beach?”
“Too many tourists,” Cole said. “And too hard to get a parking spot.”
I chuckled. It felt strange to worry about parking when it was all just a fantasy. Then again, stupid considerations like that were why we’d never gone to the beach as a family in reality.
“We should go to the beach sometime,” I said quietly. “I mean… by the end of the week, if we have to.”
“We can do that if you want. But I thought you thought we had plenty of time.”
I bit my lip. “I don’t know anymore.” I hated thinking about this. “Tell me what we’d do at the beach.”
“Kerry would swim, of course. She’d never get out of the water. And one of us would have to stay on the shore with our stuff.”
“We couldn’t both go in?” I asked. “We could get a waterproof wallet. We’d only have to leave our towels behind.”
I could feel the air move as Cole nodded. “You know what always seemed like fun? I’ve seen guys drinking beer at the beach. Like, in the water. I never got around to doing it. Never had anyone to do it with.”
“We can do that, if Kerry doesn’t disapprove too much.”
I could picture the two of us bouncing in the waves, glass bottles in our hands, the cool, bitter taste sliding down my throat as I held onto Cole. Kerry shaking her head at us, saying she was annoyed when we kissed for too long.
I could feel the sand beneath our feet, hear the cries of seagulls around us. I could feel the ocean spray on my tongue…
“I want it to come true,” Cole said, a slight hitch in his voice now. “I want that so bad, Gordon.”
Once more, I opened my eyes. I had a feeling that this was as much as he’d be able to do. Wrapping my arms around him, I pulled him down with his head on my chest.
“We’ll make it come true one day,” I told him. “I swear we will.”
I didn’t tell him what I feared—that our relationship wouldn’t stand up to the test of long distance.
But when Cole got up to go downstairs, saying he was going to check on Kerry, I continued the exercise by myself. I went through the rest of the day—spending the afternoon on the beach, only pausing for ice cream. Going out to dinner at a nice restaurant, celebrating the excellent report card Kerry had just gotten. Giving her a sip of wine because she complained we were leaving her out. Her spitting it out and saying she’d never drink wine again.
Going for a stroll on the boardwalk before the sun went down, and then driving around for a while and just listening to music. Heading home to play a board game together, and then Kerry going to sleep—at ten, because she’d be a year older—and Cole and I cuddling up together in each other’s arms.
The day ended as perfectly as it had begun. And it wasn’t farfetched at all. We weren’t asking for anything crazy, anything out of line. We only wanted to be together, to have a family.
Surely the universe would understand. Surely it would be kind enough to give us that much.
If I had the choice, I would have chosen Cole—and Kerry—over money, fame, anything.
But I didn’t have that choice. It wasn’t up to me.
And when a notice came from the government a few days later, the answer was not the one we wanted.
Twenty-Four—Cole
I cried my eyes out at the airport. I didn’t care who was watching. Saying goodbye to Gordon was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I wanted to fall down at his feet and hold on to him so he wouldn’t be able to go.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” I whispered as we stood in the check-in line.
Nothing I hadn’t told him before. We’d already said everything there was to say, probably said it a thousand times. He knew how unfair this was. Knew my heart was being torn apart.
But there was nothing I could do to stop this. We’d gone to extraordinary measures, and they still hadn’t worked.
The immigration office had refused to tell us exactly what made our application fail. Whether it was Kerry’s statement, something that’d happened at the house, something one of our friends had said, or something else altogether, we’d never know. Didn’t really matter, anyway. What was done was done.
Gordon hoisted up his suitcase, his face going a little paler as we took another few steps forward. Then the agent was weighing his luggage and checking him in. And then, with one last glance, he walked out of my sight.
My chest was painfully tight. More tears slipped out of my eyes, and I didn’t have the strength to brush them away. I stood frozen, staring after him until Kerry tugged on my sleeve and said we should go.
The house felt devastatingly empty as she and I got back. It used to be just the two of us, at least on the weekends that I had her. In fact, during the week it used to be just me before she moved in full-time.
It shouldn’t have felt so gloomy to have one less person there. But without Gordon, the house had lost its sparkle, its shine. Its heart.
“Gordy isn’t coming back, Daddy?” Kerry asked. Her face was more solemn than usual, even glum.
“Not anytime soon.”
Everything had moved at lightning speed. It felt like overnight, Gordon had gone from assuring me his wacky spiritual beliefs would save us… to not being there anymore at all.
I’d have to talk to Talbot about whether we wanted to appeal this decision. If we did, it’d be a lengthy, expensive process. It might take years, and there was no guarantee that it would work.
“When can we go visit him?” Kerry asked.
“You want to go?”
I’d been planning to fly up to Toronto as soon as I could. Flights were only about three hours, and sometimes they were pretty cheap—not that the expense mattered. I would’ve spent any amount of money to hold him for one more moment. But somehow I hadn’t pictured Kerry coming along with me.
“Of course I want to see him,” she said, crossing her little arms. “He’s Gordy.”
I nodded. “I’ll look for flights tonight.”
If it weren’t for Kerry, I could’ve gone up there every weekend. It wasn’t like I had much of a life otherwise. I’d never been to Toronto, but from what Gordon said, it sounded like an okay place.
But Kerry was here, and I couldn’t take her with me on an international flight every weekend. I didn’t want to leave her behind, either.
That night, I found an email on my computer from Gordon. I only had to see the name a
ppear on my page for tears to appear in my eyes.
Memories of sitting right here and writing fake emails to each other came back to me. But now he was a million miles away, and the emotions in the emails were a hundred percent real.
Hi, the note said. This feels weird. Everything’s weird. But I guess my point is, I’m here. I made it safe. My moms say hi. They’re helping me unpack. The chickens say hi, too. They’re not helping with much except waking me up in the morning. Seriously, not looking forward to that tomorrow at 6 am. That’s all for now. Love you.
I let out a sigh, resting my head in my hands. Gordon was going to hear chickens tomorrow, and I wasn’t. How was it possible that life could go on, even with him so far away? How could he still be out there when he’d been torn away from me?
We had a short phone call in the morning. He told me about what was happening there, and I told him how mopey Kerry was at the moment. Then I had to go.
My mind wasn’t on my work all day, to the point where even my boss commented on it. “I’ll forgive you because you’re still a newlywed, but at this point, you should be getting out of the honeymoon phase.”
I laughed weakly. Maybe I should’ve explained just how far off-base he was, but I didn’t feel like getting into it at work.
Instead, all I did was count the hours until I could go home and be alone again—and hope my next conversation with Gordon would be better.
When I picked Kerry up from Francesca’s house, she was frowning. As she got in the car, she practically slammed her backpack on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Am I going to go there every day? Aren’t I old enough to stay home by myself sometimes?”
“I don’t know,” I said. I hadn’t really thought about it. This girl’s parents seemed fine with Kerry coming over as often as she wanted. Being the popular girl, Francesca always had friends over anyway. “Don’t you like Francesca?”
“I do, but I can’t be over there all the time,” Kerry said. “She’ll get sick of me, and then everyone will hate me.”
“I see. Well, give me some time to think about it. I don’t really want to hire anyone for you right now.”
“I’m too big for a nanny.”
“You liked having Gordon around.”
“That’s because he was Gordon!” She kicked the bottom of the glove compartment, her face taken over by a pout.
I wanted to tell her not to whine, but she was right. Gordon wasn’t like any other nanny. He wasn’t like anybody else, period.
As the days passed, I found a new babysitter who was more to Kerry’s taste—a nice older lady from down the block, someone there was no risk of me falling in love with.
And I made an effort to get home earlier, both for Kerry’s sake and so that I could spend more time wallowing in how desperately I missed Gordon.
He usually emailed me through the day. I replied when I had a free moment. Being able to hear from him was good, but it was nothing like the real thing.
He sounded weird in his emails—not like his usual lighthearted self. He kept bringing up religion and politics out of nowhere, and when I tried to bring the conversation back to how miserable I was without him, he’d keep talking about these things I didn’t really care about.
I jerked off like crazy, thinking of Gordon every time. Sometimes I did it in the shower for old time’s sake. I craved my husband so desperately.
Samantha and her husband came for a visit, taking Kerry for an entire weekend. I was alone. Before, I would’ve been ecstatic to have some alone time. Now I was miserable. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I struggled to remember what I even liked to do in my spare time. With Gordon, it was easy—sex, or cuddling in front of the TV, or cooking together, or more sex.
But I’d already gotten takeout, and there were only so many times I could jerk off in a day
Eventually I ended up going back into work. I figured I’d get as much work done now as I could, then take some time off during the week.
Even thinking about visiting Gordon couldn’t lift my spirits. I knew seeing him was only going to remind me of what I’d lost. And I knew I wouldn’t be happy until I had him again—permanently.
The weeks passed, painfully slowly. I went to work and came home on autopilot, trying to make the best of my situation, but unable to feel any joy. I had dinner with my parents. I even socialized with Talbot. But nothing anyone could say could break through the ice around my heart.
Nothing would be right again until Gordon was back here with me.
Twenty-Five—Gordon
“Hey, you.”
Cole smiled at me through the screen, and I gave him a pained grimace back. He looked so damn good… but he was so far away.
Last time we’d tried to Skype, Cole kept freezing up, his face stuck in an awkward position and his voice suddenly vanishing. My moms’ Internet was working better today, and I hoped we could have a decent conversation.
“Hey, yourself,” I said. “How are you doing? How’s Kerry?”
“We’re good.”
The grin on his face was turning goofy now. He was clearly happy that we were talking face to face. Or was there some other reason?
The thought occurred to me that maybe he was forgetting me already. Maybe he was about to tell me he’d met someone more suited for him, and that he was going to break up with me.
No, that was stupid. We were married, for heaven’s sake. Our relationship couldn’t be dissolved that easily.
Besides, the fact that he’d started smiling when he saw my face had to mean something.
“I’m good, too,” I said. “Everybody’s good.”
“I’m disappointed,” Cole said. “I thought you’d be in tears, unable to get out of bed.”
“Oh, I already did that today. Check in again tomorrow.”
I was exaggerating, to some extent. I definitely wasn’t my usual self lately, and everyone who knew me could see that.
It would’ve been hard to be my usual self in this situation—unceremoniously ejected from the country I’d adopted, and pushed out of a brand-new relationship with a man I’d never thought I could get.
But I tried to keep my chin up. My moms were great at keeping me company, and so were the backyard chickens. I had to get out of bed every day to collect their eggs and do other chores around the house. And on top of that, I had more news.
“I got a job,” I said.
“You did? Congratulations!” Suddenly Cole looked worried. “Is it another nanny job? Are you going to fall in love with your new boss?”
I laughed. “Actually, it’s at the daycare. They usually only hire people with ECE degrees, but they really liked my resume. They said the fact that I could put up with Americans said a lot for my character.”
“Very funny,” Cole grumbled.
“Anyway, it’s only part-time but the pay is pretty good—I mean, by high school graduate standards. It’s close by, and the bosses seem like nice people. I really could have done worse.”
“So you’re doing this,” Cole said. “Assimilating back into Canadian society.”
My gut clenched, and I gave him a worried look. “I have to, babe. What else can I do? You know I want to be back in Miami more than anything else, but that doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me.”
Cole swallowed. “I know.”
Neither of us seemed willing to broach the topic of the long term. As long as the American government wanted to keep me out, I didn’t see how I could go back. That meant we’d be carrying on this long-distance relationship for the foreseeable future.
In time, maybe Cole could move closer to me. But he had a life over there—a job, not to mention a child whose life he’d be uprooting. I couldn’t ask that of him… so I’d never mentioned it.
“It’s part-time, you said?” Cole asked, trying to smile again. “Do you have the Labor Day long weekend off?”
I squinted at the pixels that made up his face. “I think I do.
Why?”
That big, goofy grin appeared again, and he held up two pieces of paper. “Because you’re going to have a couple of visitors.”
I jumped out of my seat, covering my mouth with my hands. I spun around before dropping back into the seat, my jaw still hanging open. “Are you serious? Like, seriously serious?”
“Dead serious,” Cole said. “It was going to just be me, but Kerry insisted on coming. I hope your moms don’t mind their step-grandchild sleeping over, because I want at least one night at a hotel on our own.”
“I’m sure we can manage that,” I said, a lascivious smile creeping across my face. “What kind of things do you want to do in the hotel?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you bad? I didn’t even tell you I’m home alone right now. Kerry’s out at Francesca’s house.”
They seemed to be better friends now that Cole wasn’t dumping her over there every single night. They could have play dates on their own terms now, rather than when it benefited our romantic schedule.
“Funny you should say that, because I’m home alone too,” I said. “My moms are out at their community garden.”
Apparently turning the entire backyard into a field of vegetables wasn’t enough, and they’d gotten several more square meters a few blocks away.
“Interesting,” Cole said, sliding forward in his seat.
His face was closer to the camera, close enough that I could look deep into those brown eyes. Fuck, how I wanted to kiss and nibble his gorgeous lips. Run my hands along his jaw, and then down the front of his shirt…
“I can see your mind going,” he said. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
“Oh, you want me to talk dirty to you?”
“I know what you’re capable of.” He winked at me, actually winked. “And I know what you used to look like when you’d start composing those emails.”
“Why don’t you show me what you’re capable of?”
He shrugged, his hands running over his thighs. “I don’t think I could even say those kinds of words out loud. Just tell me what you were thinking.”