First Person

Billy is undocumented. Should I marry him?

We thought we had a good plan, but the lawyer said it might not work.

Billy fidgeted on my couch one evening, wanting to tell me something. “You know how I go to work every day? And I work for a guy named Anthony?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, I work with other guys too. And most of us—well, really all of us—are undocumented. Pretty much everyone who works for the company.” He rambled on, his eyes dodging mine. “So . . . um . . . yeah. Today Anthony told me that he’s having some trouble paying me. With my paperwork.” Billy leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. “Anthony asked if he could put you on the payroll instead.”