All happy families are alike.
—LEO TOLSTOY, ANNA KARENINA
ROYCE COMES OVER LATER. We still haven’t had a real chance to talk since everything that happened at the courthouse and at Kayla’s house, several weeks ago. I know that his family just sent Mason to rehab in Utah. They all went, and Royce just got back from the airport.
He’s tired and his eyes are red-rimmed, but from lack of sleep or crying I don’t know. It upsets me though. I hate when he’s sad, and I’m about to make him sadder.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. He’s going to be there for three months, Dad sprang for the full program. Mason’s already joking that he’s transferred to Circa Lodge instead of Columbia,” he says, naming one of the most expensive rehabilitation centers in the country.
We laugh together.
“Hey,” I say gently. “I got a grant to go to Stanford.”
“That’s awesome. Of course you did—you’re amazing.” His eyes are shining.
“If only the judge granted our temporary visas like he told your dad he would. I know your dad’s office is working on following up but we haven’t heard anything,” I say. “If only we could stay.”
He nods. “If only.”
“I have to return this to you,” I say, and remove the ring from my pocket. It seems wrong to keep wearing it. “I want you to know that you made me the happiest person in the world when you asked me to marry you.”
He nods again. He takes the ring and puts it away. His lips are trembling and I can’t stand it.
I put a hand on his face, feel the stubble there. “I will marry you one day, Royce Blakely. I promise.”
He puts a hand over my hand and smiles, sunshine through the rain. “You’re going to keep that promise.”
* * *
A few days later, at home, we’re all preparing for graduation. Dad buys my cap and gown and I try it on in the living room. It feels like everything is ending so quickly and I don’t know where I’m going to go next.
“I have to iron it,” I say.
“I don’t know,” Dad jokes. “It looks good all wrinkled.”
“We’ll iron it,” Mom says.
“What are you going to wear underneath it?” Lola Cherry says. Before I can answer, Lola is already talking again. “I remember this one girl. Lilibeth Bautista. She didn’t wear anything. She was painted with words. She let all her favorite boys write their name in yellow paint anywhere they wanted.”
I burst out laughing. Mom’s horrified. “My daughter is not going to do that. Stop putting images inside her head, Lola Cherry.” She turns to me, looking me up and down. “You hear me? No boys are painting your treasure.”
“Why not?” Lola says. “Nobody will know except for Jasmine.”
“I don’t want to see Royce’s name anywhere either. You hear me?” my mom says.
I start laughing even harder at that. “No way!” Then I imagine what Royce would think if he did see his name written on my skin under my gown. It could be pretty sexy, put a smile back on his face. Thanks, Lola Cherry.
Dad doesn’t say anything until now. He pouts. “My graduation was never that exciting...”
Lola starts laughing. “See? Your father understands.”
“Anyway, enough about that. I need a new dress.”
“All right. But no funny business,” Dad says. “Mom will take you to buy one this week.”
I give him a big hug, because no matter what, no matter how old I get, I’m still Daddy’s favorite.
Suddenly, Lola whacks Dad in the leg with her cane.
He yelps and curses in Ilocano. “What was that for?”
“I want your attention,” she says.
“You could have just asked!” he says, rubbing his leg.
“I have an idea,” she says.
Dad looks very agitated. “I can see that. More like I can feel it.”
Mom and I giggle. I hope I get to do whatever I want when I’m older just because I can get away with it.
“That’s why you hit me?” Dad says. “No.”
Lola swings her cane again.
This time Dad gets up. “I’m going to take that from you. It’s not a weapon.”
“I know,” Lola says. “It’s an attention getter. Jasmine says that Royce’s dad called that judge and the visas were granted.”
“Yeah, we heard that before,” says Dad.
“Call him again. You can’t just sit around and wait! You need to remind people to do their jobs!”
“We have been calling, but there’s no news.”
“Call him again! Call until there is news.”
“She’s right,” I say. “Let’s keep calling.”
“Fine,” says Dad. “What can it hurt?”
* * *
A few days later, we get a message back from Mr. Alvarado telling us to show up at his office at 1:00 p.m. We’re ten minutes early. We’re all getting out of our car, wondering why he needs to see us.
“Why are we here?” Isko says.
“I don’t know,” Dad says. “Your sister got a message from this snake of a lawyer that requested the entire family arrive. I thought we should have hidden you children in the closet before we left.”
“What? Why?” Isko says.
Dad opens the car door. “This could be the moment they catch you.”
Isko gets out. “Who catches me?”
“ICE,” Dad says.
“Stop trying to scare them,” Mom says.
She gives Dad a sideways look. He goes quiet.
“What’s ICE?”
“US Immigration and Customs Enforcement,” I say. “They identify undocumented people and arrest them, even in churches.”
Isko ducks behind me. “They’re here?”
“Stop it,” Mom says. “Both of you. Jasmine, you know better.”
Dad laughs. “I’m just messing with you. This lawyer probably just wants to say his goodbyes and have us sign a final form.”
“Do we have to sign them too?” Isko asks.
No one answers him.
Mr. Alvarado greets us at the door. “I’m so glad all of you came. Have a seat.”
“Where do we sign our final papers?” Dad asks as we all find chairs. He sits closest to Mr. Alvarado’s desk. Mom is next to him. “Let’s get this over with.”
Mr. Alvarado sighs. “I’m afraid that’s not why you’re here, Mr. de los Santos.”
“Don’t tell me it’s gotten worse? We’re planning to leave in two weeks as required,” Dad says. Our house hasn’t sold yet but Lola Cherry will wire us the money when it does.
“There’s been a development,” Mr. Alvarado says.
“What kind?” Dad says angrily. “We’ve jumped through every possible hoop we could. What does Uncle Sam want now? Our savings? Do they want us to leave right now?”
Mom puts an arm on Dad’s leg to try to calm him.
Mr. Alvarado is holding a pen. He taps it on the desk. “I received a phone call from Judge Reynolds,” he says. Every one of us holds our breath. I feel like I’m at my first cheer competition ever, standing in front of an audience, scared to death.
It feels like the silence lasts forever. Then he says triumphantly, “Judge Reynolds has personally informed me that your deportation has been canceled.”
“Canceled?” Dad says.
Mom grabs Dad with one hand. The other she puts over her mouth. “Oh my God! What changed his mind?”
“If you choose to stay in America,” Mr. Alvarado continues, “your family will be allowed to live under temporary work visas until you get your employment-based immigration visas, which have also just been approved.”
“What?” I say, cheering happily. “I can’t believe it! We can stay! I can go to Stanford!”
“We can stay?” Isko says, jumping up.
For a second Danny doesn’t move, then he gets a big smile on his face and jumps up with Isko, nearly tackling him.
I’m trying to text Royce, Your dad did it!!! The judge reversed his decision!!! We don’t have to leave!! We can stay! And I’m going to Stanford! With you! Oh my God!!! I really can’t believe it. It feels like a dream.
Royce answers back: yes!!!!! i knew it!!! YES!!!!
I don’t really believe it, and it feels as if this great weight is lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t realize how much stress I was carrying until it was gone. I’m so thankful.
Mr. Alvarado tries to talk over our shouting. “If you play your cards right, within a few years your daughter can apply under a different visa that has to do with persons of exceptional ability. She will of course have to obtain an advanced degree. Considering the path she’s currently on, I don’t foresee any problems with that. In addition, these visas mean you will all be eligible to apply for green cards, and later on, citizenship.”
We’re hardly listening. We’re all jumping up and down cheering and hugging.
“And actually you do also have to sign some papers,” Mr. Alvarado says.
We’re still not listening.
“I told you this lawyer was going to pull through for us!” Dad says.
“I just can’t understand how this happened?” Mom cries.
But I know how it happened. I think about Congressman Blakely and the phone call Royce asked him to make after his fight with Mason. Royce did it for me, for his family, for himself. He always offered his help, and I’m glad I finally accepted it.
Mr. Alvarado sits back and shakes his head. He’s grinning like we’re the most insane people he’s ever met, but I don’t care what anyone thinks about us. The de los Santos family will always stick together.