by Jason Y. Ng
Hong Kong was full of hua qiao, overseas Chinese like herself—ABCs, CBCs, BBCs, Eurasians—and Serena found that they occupied the same cozy sphere: Western education and values but brought up in an Asian household. Now she could commiserate with her peers about her tiger mother—something she could only previously do with her cousins. Cole, her ex-husband, tried to understand the notion of a tiger parent, but never really got it. He didn’t get lots of things. Her mother was always upset about something Serena did, or rather, never satisfied. Nothing was ever good enough. Not her Stanford education (“Your cousins are at Yale and Harvard. Why can’t you go to one of those?”), which she chose explicitly because it was across the country from her mother and her aunties. Nor her choice of husband.
“You are really going to marry Cole?” asked her mother.
“Yes, Ma. We’re in love,” said Serena.
“Isn’t there a nice Taiwanese boy at business school?”
“None that I want to marry.”
“Well, at least he is white.”
“Ma! You can’t say things like that!”
“Don’t be so serious. I’m just joking.”
When she told her mother that she and Cole were moving to Hong Kong, her mother was aghast. “Why would you want to move to Hong Kong?” she had asked. “Hong Kong people like to gamble and they sound like they’re always arguing.”
Serena had to admit that Cantonese didn’t have the same musical lilt as Mandarin or Taiwanese, but she learned enough to get by day to day. Cole, on the other hand, had no interest in learning Chinese, not that you had to speak any to get by in Hong Kong. “The language of business is English. Who needs Chinese?” he would ask.
Funny that he had no interest in the Chinese language, since he certainly had an interest in Chinese women. Serena used to tease him about his yellow fever—his girlfriend before her was also ABC. But over their time in Hong Kong, Cole seemed to lose interest in her. At first she thought it was because he was distracted by the overwhelming number of pretty, size-zero (or 000 at the Gap), Hello Kitty–collecting girls in the office. Then she realized it was something more disturbing. She was smarter and better at her job than he was and he just couldn’t take it. When she made MD before him, he left SBB for a competing bank. He said he was tired of being referred to as “Serena Chen’s husband,” or worse, “the boss’s husband.” After a while, they found themselves home together only for brief periods between their respective work trips.
Near the end of the road, they decided to try for a baby. Serena was already forty at that time, and although many of her friends were having babies at this age, she and Cole were not getting any traction. But Serena refused to have IVF. She told Cole that if it were meant to be, she would get pregnant naturally. Looking back, Serena knew that this was just an excuse. She wasn’t opposed to having a baby, but she thought that if she were to bring one into this world, she should be more excited about the prospect. Was her hesitation because she wasn’t sure she wanted a baby or was it that she wasn’t sure she wanted a baby with Cole? She knew deep down that her marriage was falling apart and this clichéd last-ditch effort to save their marriage with a baby would probably end in tears.
The day she came home and announced that she had made partner at SBB, Cole announced that he wanted a divorce.
“I can’t pretend anymore. We’re both not happy,” he said.
“You could have been happy. If you didn’t flinch every time I did well at work, we could have been very happy.”
“You put more time and effort into your job than our marriage,” said Cole.
“Maybe it was easier to avoid you altogether than try and walk around on eggshells to protect your fragile ego.”
He had met someone at work. She was a junior associate at his bank, a local Chinese, educated in the UK.
“You’re such an asshole, Cole. Are you that pathetic that you need a twenty-five-year-old to make you feel like a real man?”
“I’m sorry. It just happened. And she’s almost thirty, by the way.”
“But she probably still lives with her parents!”
“That’s normal here, you know that.”
And that was the end. Cole moved out that weekend into a renovated walkup in Kennedy Town with his new girlfriend, but not before Serena had dumped his whiskey collection down the toilet and his cigars into the garbage.
* * *
Back on the balcony with Heather, Serena was in awe how Heather could always look so effortlessly put-together, even in an old McGill T-shirt and denim cutoffs, her blond hair in a loose braid. On paper, Heather seemed like she and Serena wouldn’t have much in common.
Heather was a mom of four kids, married straight out of university, and had never had a job. But she and Serena had hit it off after meeting at a book club years ago; they discovered they had a mutual passion for new world wines and philosophical discussions on the state of pop culture. Heather wasn’t like the other ladies in the complex at Bamboo Towers with their constant nattering about school admissions, ah-ma drama, absent banker husbands, and shopping trips across the border for fakes. Heather was intelligent, confident, and didn’t care for the social climbing that went on around her. Serena thought it was funny to see everyone want to get close to Heather because she was a Wong and her husband worked at Wong Luck Holdings, even though they were what Heather called “poor, distant relations.” Serena also thought the fact that Heather was a white girl married to a Chinese guy gave her a little extra cool factor.
“Why do they all hate me?” asked Serena, in mock self-deprecation, referring to their expat neighbors.
“Because you make them feel bad about themselves,” said Heather, lounging across Serena’s outdoor sofa. “All these trailing spouses, they’re highly educated women who left their jobs, their careers, to follow their husbands here. They see what you have achieved and they don’t want to be reminded of what they could have had.”
“It seems to me they have it pretty good. A big flat, an ocean view, domestic help, constant holidays . . .” Serena waved her hand dismissively.
“A gilded cage,” said Heather. “Don’t underestimate us.”
Serena’s face turned serious, “She had the baby.” She pulled out her phone and went onto Cole’s Facebook page. “Just look at these photos. He finally got the happy family he always wanted.” She continued scrolling through the photos and winced when she saw some of her friends holding the baby. “Jerks. I can’t believe they chose them.” Serena threw her phone across the sofa. “They say it’s nothing against me, they just do things in couples and it’s easier to invite them than me. I might as well wear a sign that says Single Loser.”
“Forget about them,” said Heather.
“Maybe I made a mistake in letting him go without a fight.”
“No, it’s better to be alone than with someone you’re not sure about.”
Serena gave Heather a knowing look. Heather was alone now, but due to a combination of family dynamics, finances, and Chinese face-saving, she remained legally married to Victor, who lived in the flat two floors above her. Neither of them wanted to move from their piece of paradise by the sea. He had a rotation of young girlfriends, but on the condition that they were never to meet the boys. Heather’s sons were her reason to live and she didn’t want another woman figure in their lives, “especially not some transient gold digger.” Victor kept her in her current luxurious lifestyle on the condition that she didn’t openly date.
“Is it worth it?” Serena had asked her once.
“I could never go back home to that small town. Firstly, divorced with four Eurasian boys? My mother would revel in her victory of being right about him. She’s afflicted with a fear of the yellow peril. Besides, life here is easy. I have two live-in helpers, a driver, and the beach at my doorstep. We have it good.”
Suddenly, there was a loud bang behind them. Serena turned and saw that a section of the wall garden had fallen and some of her beloved flowers wer
e now splattered on the floor. “Damn, this thing is falling apart,” she said, trying to fix a piece of rotten wood back onto the wall. “My poor camellias. This wood can’t handle the humidity. Can you give me the number for your handyman?”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Jack will happily sort it. He’ll be keen to use his tools. He knows he owes you big after you helped him with his Stanford essay. I still can’t believe he got in.”
“He’s a good, smart kid. He got in on his own merit,” said Serena. “How is he doing? I haven’t seem him in months.”
“He’s really good. Super excited to be leaving home. I’ll send him down tomorrow to try and fix the wall. I still have your spare keys.”
* * *
The next weekend, Serena attended a corporate charity gala in one of the big hotels. She sat down at her seat and scanned the name cards around her, as her immediate neighbors would determine whether this would be a fun evening or one that was extremely dull. The card on her left was for someone she didn’t know that well. The card on her right was for Victor Wong. I wonder if this is Heather’s Victor? What am I going to talk to him about all night? Although she had been close friends with Heather for years, she hadn’t spent much time with Victor one on one. She went back out to the lobby to have another glass of champagne before they rang the dinner bell.
Victor approached Serena and they greeted each other in the lobby with a double kiss on the cheeks.
“So, it looks like we’re sitting together tonight,” said Serena.
“Great! Then we’re in for a fun night. You look stunning, by the way,” said Victor.
“Um, I think you’ve already been hitting the wine too hard,” Serena replied, laughing.
“Stop being so Chinese and just accept the compliment!”
When Victor turned to talk to someone else, Serena looked him up and down. Nice, smartly cut tux, looking a bit like a young Andy Lau. I never knew he could look so good.
As they sat down at the table, he said, “I know you’re not a big fan of mine.”
“We all have to do what’s best for us. No judgment here,” Serena said.
Victor appeared to relax a bit and they went on to discuss the wine, the charity, and mutual acquaintances at the gala.
“Did Heather tell you that Jack fixed my wall garden? He did a great job.”
“Yes, he was really keen to thank you for all your help with the university essay.”
“It was my first time seeing him in months. He has grown and filled out so much. He’s not a boy anymore.”
“I hear you. I think he weighs more than me now!”
After a few more drinks, the conversation turned to the gossip at Bamboo Towers.
“The Cartwrights are splitting up,” said Victor.
“Cheating?”
“Yes, but it was her.”
“Really?” gasped Serena. She was always surprised when it happened this way. She thought cheating to be the domain of men.
“I guess women can misbehave as much as men,” Victor said with a cheeky grin. Serena wasn’t sure why, but she blushed. “Fancy some Veuve?” he asked.
“Why not?”
They finished the bottle between them.
After dinner they shared an Uber home together. “My driver gets off at eight p.m.,” he explained.
“Problems of the 1 percent,” she laughed.
“Lucky we got one before the typhoon hits. It’s already a T3.”
“They’re expecting the observatory to raise the T8 flag overnight.”
The mundane weather talk quickly turned into drunken flirting.
“For the record, I think Cole is a complete loser,” said Victor. “What was he thinking letting someone as smart and gorgeous as you get away?”
“I guess he isn’t very good at thinking,” said Serena with a giggle.
“He wasn’t man enough to appreciate what he had.”
“And you think you would be?”
“Definitely.”
She didn’t do anything to actively discourage Victor. It had been awhile since a man had so conspicuously found her attractive. They got out of the car and walked arm in arm to the lift. When it stopped at Serena’s floor, he grabbed her hand and said, “Nightcap?”
She considered it for a second, but then shook her head. “Heather,” she responded.
“No one needs to know,” said Victor.
“It’s very tempting, but I can’t. We can’t.”
“Message received,” said Victor with a smile.
“Thanks for a wonderful evening.” She kissed him on the cheek before he continued up in the elevator.
Serena felt like she was on a high. She hadn’t felt that way in such a long time, and it was Victor Wong of all people who made her feel desirable again. She had never really thought about him in that way before, but there was no denying that he was attractive. She decided to forego her everyday Marks & Spencer sensible pajamas and put on her red silk slip from Agent Provocateur. It used to be her Saturday-night go-to outfit when she and Cole had their standing appointment for sex. But it had been sitting in the back of her top drawer for too long. She checked herself out in the mirror. Not bad for forty-three, she thought. From the fridge, she pulled a half-empty bottle of wine and headed out to the balcony. A nightcap is not a bad idea after all. She relaxed on the outdoor sofa watching the imminent storm roll in across the ocean.
There was a light knocking at the door. Victor, I can’t believe you have the cheek to come back, she thought as she walked toward the door. She opened it and was startled to see not Victor, but Jack.
“I forgot my pocketknife outside and I need it in the morning for my hike,” he said. “I came by earlier but no one was home.”
“Of course, come on in. Thanks again for everything.”
They went onto the balcony and he found his knife next to the wall garden.
“Doesn’t look like you’ll have decent weather for a hike tomorrow,” said Serena.
Jack eyed the wine bottle. “Is there enough for me?” he asked. “I was just at a beach party, but we had to pack it in early because of the storm.”
Serena laughed. The beach was a favorite drinking hangout for underaged international schoolkids, who partied literally right under the noses of their parents.
She poured him a glass of wine and they drank in silence, both leaning on the railing, holding it tightly so they wouldn’t get blown away by the wind.
“You have a really nice view,” said Jack.
“You have the exact same view, just from higher up,” she said.
“The roaring sea looks beautiful. You look beautiful.”
She ignored him and continued to look out at the horizon.
“The typhoon is about to land.” The brewing storm, the thrashing wind, the champagne, the nightcap—it all contributed to her relaxed state. He looked at her, eyes moving down her silk slip, resting hungrily on her erect nipples visible from underneath. She felt a slight degree of satisfaction that he was turned on by her. He looks so much like Victor now, maybe even better.
“You are very sexy in red.” He touched the small of her back gently.
She was surprised at his confidence. But she didn’t pull back or flinch. He moved his hand lower and caressed her bottom. Oh my God, this is so wrong.
“Wait,” she said as he kissed her neck.
“Wait for what?” he asked, slowly lifting her slip. He kissed her with his soft full lips and she couldn’t bring herself to say more. He gingerly moved his fingers between her legs before gliding them into her. First one, then more. She was surprised that she was so hot, so wet, so inviting. She didn’t want him to stop. She sucked her breath in and tried to muffle her moans. They moved to the sofa, legs intertwined, and he lifted her slip further and revealed her breasts. He caressed them and gently bit her nipples. He kissed her stomach and then slid down between her legs, moving his tongue in ways that delivered concentrated bursts of pleasure, before finally plunging hims
elf into her. As he moved in and out, her pulse raced and all her senses were heightened. Her cries of delight were masked by the storm to all but him.
After they lay on the couch in silence for a few moments, Serena got up. “You should go home,” she said.
He gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek and left. Serena promptly ran to the bathroom and threw up.
From that night onward, Serena avoided Heather out of shame and guilt, making up excuse after excuse.
“You’re missing book club?” asked Heather one afternoon over the phone.
“Sorry, work call. New York this time.”
“Okay, but are we still on for Friday night?”
“About that, I have to take a rain check. Big client in town and I have to take her out.” One side of her head told her that it was no big deal, he was eighteen and about to leave home for good. The other side reminded her that she had betrayed her best friend.
Serena couldn’t sleep and started seeing things that weren’t there. Jack on the balcony, in the window reflections, in her dreams. Sometimes she would dream that they were having hot and heavy sex, other times that he was crying into his mother’s lap. Serena went to her special pharmacy where everything was available without a prescription and stocked up on sleeping pills. She started taking the maximum dose before bed every night.
Based on her recent messages of concern—Where are you? Don’t work too hard!—Serena guessed that Heather had no idea what had happened. She imagined that Jack would post about their encounter or that he had discretely taken some photos of her in her red slip. But even though she checked it every day, there was nothing on his Facebook or Instagram. What if he uses Snapchat? she thought. She needed to get away for a bit. If she could avoid bumping into Jack for the next few weeks, he would be off working at a camp in the US for the entire summer and from there straight to university. She checked out Cole’s page. More baby photos. More happy-family photos. This firmed up her resolve to get out of town. Serena engineered a four-week trip to work out of the London office, telling her colleagues that she needed to oversee the details of a hostile takeover in person.