O Canada! Our home and native land!

True patriot love in all of us command.

I got the feeling Em wasn’t actually asleep when she was singing; the grinding of her hips against me was not meant in a patriotic way. I was the one who was asleep. Em was singing to me in my sleep.

With glowing hearts we see thee rise,

The True North strong and free!

From far and wide,

O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

It’s strange how the subliminal effects of my hearing “O Canada” in my sleep were coincident with more meddling on Grace’s part—she’d decided Em and I should be married, for Matthew’s sake. Em and I were pretty sure it didn’t matter to Matthew whether we were married or not.

“It’s for your sake that we should be married, kiddo,” was all Em said about it, at first. This would become clear. The singing of the Canadian national anthem was intended to indoctrinate me. In her own way, Em was an old-fashioned fiction writer—a plot-driven storyteller. My becoming a Canadian citizen was part of the plot.

Em would shepherd me through the immigration process. She knew the steps I had to take, en route to my applying for Canadian citizenship. My first step was to marry her, Em said. Em was already a Canadian citizen; she had a Canadian passport. If we were married, Em could sponsor my immigrating to her country of birth. Like me, Em would have to go through the business of becoming a permanent resident of Canada.

I don’t remember the rules and regulations, because Em kept track of them for me. I would have what was called a “record of landing”; Em kept this and my “record of travel” for me. I think there was something about my living in Canada, and filing taxes in Canada—for three of the next five years—but Em would remember this for me. When you have someone to guide you in a foreign country, you’re not responsible for the details. I just knew my moving to Canada began with my marrying Em.

“We have to be married before you can start immigrating, kiddo,” was the way Em put it.