Page 11

Vera

I smooth my hair in the mirror one final time as the doorbell rings then run a hand over my floral skirt. Everything is neat. Everything in place. I pray my cool facade is as flawless.

I join Erik by the front door as he opens it to greet the immigration agent. The thin man is dressed in a navy suit and tie with a crisp white shirt. His hair is brushed in a side part and his black shoes are shiny. He holds out his hand to Erik with a smile. “Mr. Thorvarsson? So nice to meet you. I’m Stephen Carmichael. I’ll be conducting the interview today.”

“Nice to meet you.” Erik steps aside and gestures to me with a smile. “This is Inessa.”

I greet Agent Carmichael with a handshake and we lead him into the tiny living room. Of course I offer him the sofa, but he declines, accepting a wooden chair instead. So I sit beside Erik, conscious with every breath of the place my thigh touches his and the placement of his hand in his lap .

I wish I could reach out and take it. That would look good in front of the agent. I think it would also feel comforting, but it feels too intimate somehow, as if I’m not entitled to seek comfort from him that way after everything else I’ve asked of him.

Stephen places his phone on the coffee table in front of him. “As long as it’s OK with you, I’ll be recording our interview in case I miss anything in my notes today.” As he says this, he opens a folder with a notebook and writes the date at the top of the page.

We both nod.

“Good. Thank you. How are you finding things since your move?”

“Very good. Thank you.” I’m not sure how much to add. Is this just small talk to open the conversation or is this part of the interview?

“Inessa is settling in well,” says Erik happily. “She has been studying English every day. She’s very dedicated.”

Agent Carmichael nods and writes something in his notebook. “That’s good to hear. So tell me how you two met.”

I look at Erik, hoping he’ll take the lead here, but he simply gives me a big smile.

Do I admit to the marriage being arranged? As far as I know, that’s not illegal. I clear my throat. “There is a website. Monstrous Deals. I am—I was—looking for a husband.”

“Hmm. And that’s how you met Erik?”

I can’t read his expression, but I stick to the truth, hoping if I include as much genuine detail as I can he might overlook anything I have to lie about later. “Yes. ”

“And tell me, how did that work? You posted some pictures, a profile?”

I try not to fidget. In Moscow, I had a message filling me in about some of the details of my match, but I’m a little hazy on some. “Ah, yes. This is right.”

“And I saw it,” Erik adds. “Well, I just knew. There she was, looking so beautiful, looking for a husband. And I thought, that’s me! Well, I hoped.” He shoots me a shy look, and I see the agent smile from the corner of my eye. I couldn’t be more grateful for Erik’s happy charm. He’s putting everyone at ease here, including me.

“So did you talk online first? Get to know each other?”

There’s a pause. I’m not sure how much to reveal.

“A little,” Erik says. “But it’s hard online. Talking in person is much better, wouldn’t you agree?”

This surprises me a little, but I keep quiet. I guess the FBI agent who lined up the match must have pretended to be me and chatted to Erik. Unless he just lied, but that seems so unlike him that I immediately dismiss the idea. I feel a bit bad that he thought it really was me, but I don’t dare tell him. I only hope it didn’t make him expect something I’m not delivering.

The agent makes another note. “And how was it when you met face to face? Sometimes people are a little different in person.”

“Oh that’s true,” Erik says and my heart sinks. Then he grins. “Inessa is even more beautiful in person and so lovely. I just hope she isn’t disappointed in me.” He turns those big eyes on me and my heart just about melts. Of course I’m not disappointed! I don’t think even Inga could have found a better match for me in the cards .

“Not disappointed,” I tell him. On impulse, I reach over and take his hand. My own is immediately swallowed by his huge warm palm and his eyes widen. The smile on his face only grows wider too.

It’s hard to shift my focus back to the interview. I have to ask the agent to repeat his next question.

“And what made you seek a husband, Ms. Bychkova?”

I blink. I can hardly tell the truth. I clear my throat. “At first I want to move out. To have a home of my own.” I’m thinking fast. I should have prepared this earlier. “Then I meet Erik and I could tell it was a good match.”

The agent asks if I intend to work in America. He asks about my prior work experience—none. He asks about any family I have back in Russia, and I tell him I have grandparents, but my parents are dead. I stick to the truth as much as I can, hoping not to betray any hint of the lie I’m really telling.

I worry I’ve said too much. That the agent or Erik will be suspicious.

Most of all I worry I’ve bought into my lie to Erik too much.

The truth is, I like the way he looks at me, the gentle way he is holding my hand in his as if it’s a precious gem he’s guarding. I like the wide smiles he gives me when I compliment him in front of the agent. And the compliments are true.

I just worry that I’m going to break his heart when he finds out it wasn’t real. When he finds out I lied to him.

I hope he can forgive me, because the more I get to know him, the more I think he’s the sweetest, most generous person I’ve ever met. The more I wish it really was real.