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“Okay, now that we've covered the essentials,” he says with a grin. “What do you think the Hawkeyes’ chances of winning the Stanley Cup are this season?
A Cheshire Cat smile stretches across his lips. He crosses his right leg over his left knee and his fingers fold over the top of each other, resting in his lap.
I knew this was why he was helping us. And usually, I could talk all day about hockey, especially the Hawkeyes’ potential for a championship victory. But I’d like to know what Juliet and my chances are of getting approved for the K-1 visa. If he could just get to the point, that would ease the tension tightening Juliet’s grip in mine.
I’ve been in a lot of high-stakes situations in my life while playing competitive sports. But this feels like the biggest long shot of my life, and the upside could come with a worse downside if someone figures out our arrangement.
Deportation and ineligibility to ever apply for a U.S. visa again seems like a harsh punishment for the offense. But Juliet’s consequences might be considered even worse.
That’s why we go for broke or we don’t go at all. And at this point, we’re in too deep to turn around now.
Not to mention that I owe this to my team. Bailing out on them now, right before it means the most, is something I’d do anything to avoid.
I know I need to give a little and appease Frank to make sure this goes through without any issues that could cause a raised brow.
“I think with the way our team is playing, how the season is going, and who we're up against next means we have a clear shot in the championship. That is of course if the Hawkeyes don't lose their captain and center,” I say.
Yes, that was a plug for getting Juliet and me the approval we need, but I’m ambitious enough for one last push.
“Right. No, of course. The Hawkeyes need number 19. I agree one hundred percent, which is why you’re here,” he says. “I think you two are a perfect example of love and commitment. I'm approving your application and signing off on your paperwork.”
He writes one word in large lettering at the bottom of the notepad, large enough for both Juliet and me to see.
APPROVED.
I feel her hand relax a little in mine.
“I’ll get the approval documented and you’ll be set to go. Congratulations. Welcome to the United States,” he says, and stands out of his office chair.
I release Juliet’s hand and stand.
Frank offers his hand and I reach out and shake it. Relief washes over me that the hardest part is over.
Juliet stands next and Frank takes her hand to shake it as well.
“How soon can we get married?” I asked him.
“Usually the paperwork takes a little time but I know you’re in a time crunch with the playoffs coming. I'll personally push it through today. You can get married as early as tomorrow afternoon.”
I whip a glance over at Juliet whose jaw seems to have dropped just a little as she stares back at Frank.
Then she turns to look at me, wide-eyed. She knew we would get married, but I don't think she thought it would happen so quickly.
“We're leaving for Canada next week and it would be good to have the wedding certificate done and filed with the state before we leave,” I tell him.
“Sure. I'll add notes in your file to make sure reentry into the US goes smoothly.”
“Thanks, Frank. We appreciate all you’ve done to help us,” I say.
“Yes, thank you,” Juliet says.
She finds that professional smile of hers again and plasters it on.
There she is.
I was worried there for a minute, but I knew the confident, take-on-anything Juliet would reappear… and she did.
“It was a pleasure meeting you Ryker, and you Juliet. I look forward to seeing you dominate and win the Stanley Cup. The Hawkeyes are due for a win. And so are you,” he tells me.
