Bonjour Shanghai

by Isabelle Laflèche

  “Yeah, it’s all good. Just Maddie acting up,” I say, trying to keep things light. I don’t want anybody to freak out.

  “The glass just slipped out of my hands,” Maddie says calmly as James mops up the spill at her feet. “Thanks for taking care of that. You’re a gem.”

  James reaches over for a quick kiss.

  “All right, then, I’ll get back to my cave while you two finish your chat,” he says.

  As soon as he shuts the bedroom door, Maddie resumes her intense stare. “What on earth is this criminal trial about, Clementine?” she whispers.

  “One of Jonathan’s clients has been charged with sexual harassment and assault, and Jonathan’s going to have to testify as a character witness against him. He has nothing to do with any of it besides knowing about the client’s slimy reputation.”

  Relief spreads across her face, then a frown. “Oh, dear. I can see how that might be stressful.”

  “He just wishes he didn’t have to get involved and he’s worried it’ll affect his livelihood negatively. But he’s got to do the right thing …”

  “I hope it works out, for the sake of this guy’s victims.” She blows out the candle she lit after I got home.

  “Now you know why I want to postpone my trip to China,” I say softly.

  “But this isn’t about you, Clementine. You don’t need to take this onto your shoulders, or try to solve everybody’s problems. Let Jonathan figure things out. You need to take your own responsibilities seriously. You’ve already committed to going to China. You can’t back out now.”

  “You’re right.”

  I get up from the couch and head to my room to debrief with myself, under the covers with my phone. For the first time in a very long time, I’ll need to figure this out on my own.

  Rather than let negative thoughts churn needlessly in my mind, I check out my blog traffic. There’s been a steady increase in overseas visitors, and I have more readers in China. I guess it was a good idea to open that WeChat account and start cross-posting my blog content and photos there. This puts a smile on my face. Finally some good news.

  I wish I could call Jake, just to hear his comforting voice, but I don’t want to disturb him.

  I jump on to Instagram, hoping to see some cool images and read some inspirational quotes. I see that Henry’s online. That makes sense, since it’s late morning over there.

  He just posted a lovely photo of himself and a friend a minute ago. They’re standing in front of tall windows in what looks to be a modern high-rise. He looks happy. It kind of makes me want to be there, away from all the drama here.

  Hey Henry, great shot! Where are you?

  He’s with a friend, so I don’t really expect a response, but I get one right away.

  Clementine, you’re still up at this hour?! I’m still in Hong Kong, hanging out with my pal Stephen before he goes back to New York. Are you up doing homework?

  I have goosebumps. I sit up straight in bed and pull my hair back in a loose ponytail before I continue texting.

  Yeah, finishing up a project. Just taking a quick break. What’re you guys up to?

  Visiting an amazing fashion exhibit at the Museum of Art. It’s about costume design. You’d love it!

  Sounds awesome. That’s totally up my alley.

  I know! Read your last post on Bonjour Girl. Good stuff. I showed Stephen your blog and now he’s a fan too. You’re becoming a major influencer ;-)

  This last comment gives me the chills. When I first launched Bonjour Girl, my goal was to be read extensively, but nobody has ever called me an influencer before. Is that really how he sees me?

  Wow, thanks so much for the compliment:)

  Of course! Can’t wait to meet you.

  Less than a week now, right?

  Yup, so much to take care of before

  I go. Feeling totally stressed out!

  Don’t worry, just go with the flow! Gotta go now, my friend is waiting for me. Catch you later, okay? Take care and get some beauty sleep! Not that you need it ;-)

  Oh boy, he’s totally flirting. I’m reminded of Jake’s comment about being in trouble — we’re going down a slippery slope. I decide not to respond to that last bit. I end our exchange with a smiley face emoji.

  I follow Henry’s advice and go to sleep. You can’t think straight fuelled by pressure and exhaustion, anyway.

  Chapter Sixteen

  IT’S FINALLY HERE.

  The big day. The day I’ve been both anticipating and dreading. Roses and thorns, champagne bubbles and flat ginger ale, all mixed into one.

  Although I’m flying off to Shanghai for an exciting adventure, there’s sadness around me. That’s probably why I decided to wear black jeans with a grey sweatshirt and black sneakers, something I would never normally wear, for the flight.

  Maddie shed a few proud tears this morning after I woke up for our last breakfast together, then we spent the day in New York hanging out. She took me for the best veggie burger, sweet potato fries, and cheesecake in Brooklyn, knowing that I’d miss them in China. Then we hit the Duane Reade and I shopped my heart out for fun toiletries and airplane snacks.

  Now I’m sitting in the back seat of an Uber between Jake and Jonathan. It’s befitting of how I’ve felt over the last few weeks — like I’m filling in the holes in their dark places. Now it’s time to set myself free. I try to keep a smile on my face between my travel companions’ frowns.

  I’m looking ahead with confidence. No more wallowing, no more pity parties. While my two favourite men stare out their respective windows, I mentally prepare for the long flight and exciting times ahead. I’m ready to turn the page and have the time of my life.

  Jonathan reaches for my hand and squeezes it tightly. Worrying about his upcoming testimony is really draining him.

  I squeeze his hand back, and his eyes meet mine. They’re filled with tenderness and hope. I blink at him as if to say don’t worry. It’s our own special language. He blinks back. Everything will be all right. I kiss him tenderly.

  “Okay, lovebirds, I should have stayed home,” Jake says. Like me, he’s dressed in black and grey with a black baseball cap. His arms are crossed, and he’s been uncharacteristically silent during the entire car trip. His money worries are draining him, too.

  “Come on,” I say, “you know how much I love you!”

  “I just wish …” His voice trails off. “Nah, forget it. I’m just feeling selfish. You totally deserve this. I’m going to miss you like crazy, Bonjour Girl.”

  “I’m seriously going to miss you, too, Jake.” I pat his knee, trying to stay optimistic for both of us, and give him a big peck on the cheek. He smiles and tears run down his cheeks, the droplets hitting his grey pants.

  Then the three of us sit in silence, holding hands. The closing scene from The Breakfast Club pops into my head, punctuated by that iconic song by Simple Minds: “Don’t You (Forget About Me) …”

  After my long, sad goodbye with Jake and Jonathan and my mad dash to the gate, I’m finally in the air en route to Shanghai. I’ve got my laptop out, and I’m about to start working on a new blog post when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

  “Clementine? Clementine Liu?”

  I look up to see a handsome young Asian man standing in the aisle next to me. He’s wearing a stylish jacket and the kind of sneakers that are all the rage these days, plus a cool pair of sunglasses perched atop his head. I feel like a sad creature compared to him. I’m tempted to say that he’s got the wrong girl, but instead, the more mature part of me nods.

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “I have a note for you from a close friend of mine.” He holds out a folded piece of paper. “Enjoy your flight, okay?”

  “Thanks.” I reach for the paper clumsily. The man hovers over me, looking right at my laptop screen as though he’s trying to read what’s on it. I frown and he looks away. Weird.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say as he heads back to his seat.

  The wo
man sitting next to me gives me a grin. She probably thinks he’s my boyfriend or a secret admirer. I smile back, showing some teeth — I don’t like to disappoint my audience.

  I open the note and my eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. It’s from Henry.

  Dear Clementine,

  I had a feeling you’d be on this flight with my friend Stephen. Can’t wait to finally meet you! I’m picking Stephen up at the airport, so I’ll see you soon!

  Henry XO

  My throat tightens. I feel pounding in my chest. I twirl Jonathan’s mother’s ring on my finger while I read Henry’s note again, feeling a mixture of panic and excitement, guilt and euphoria. What is this emotion?

  I look down at my boring, sweaty outfit and chastise myself for not bringing a change of clothes in my carry-on. I don’t even have my toiletry bag to freshen up before landing. This is the worst.

  I take a deep breath and tell myself to stop being so vain. I must have a comb or a brush in my backpack, and I’ve got some cherry lip balm. That’ll have to do.

  I sigh loudly and decide that there’s only one thing to do, and that’s what my best friend would do under these circumstances: I reach for the cupcakes Jake’s mother baked me and take a huge bite out of one. I feel better already.

  I just hope that feeling lasts.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE PILOT’S VOICE comes on overhead, waking me with a start — something about turbulence and needing to put on our seat belts.

  The older woman sitting next to me has vanished. She must be in the bathroom. I’ve actually been enjoying her as a travel neighbour. With her sparkling eyes and warm smile, she’s been like a warm security blanket, my only point of reference on this packed plane besides Henry’s messenger friend, Stephen, who’s sitting two rows over and is far too busy taking selfies to pay attention to me.

  I twist and turn in my seat, thinking of Henry. Is he trying to charm me before I even land? He hardly knows me, other than my blog posts and our few text exchanges. He should give a girl some space, and maybe some time to settle in and take a shower. I feel kind of gross now, after sleeping for five hours and eating all those cupcakes. I pull his note from my jeans pocket and reread it. Despite my apprehension, I am pretty excited about meeting him in person. If he’s as kind in real life as he is in his texts, it won’t matter what I’m wearing when we meet.

  I reach for my almonds and pop a few into my mouth. Thank god I had the good sense to buy some healthy snacks at the Duane Reade — otherwise, I’d be showing up in Shanghai on a frantic sugar high.

  After drafting an article for my blog about the challenges of packing and preparing for a semester of school in China, I open one of my magazines and read about Shanghai Fashion Week, fast becoming one of the most sought-after tickets in the fashion world, along with Labelhood, the event’s fashion incubator and one of the most interesting research hubs I’ve heard about. It’s a place that nurtures culture and allows Chinese design talent to experiment.

  Then I read up on the city itself: its many karaoke bars, cafés, shops, and markets, as well as the neighbourhood where I’ll be staying, the French Concession. A relic of China’s colonial past, it’s defined by European architecture, cafés, tree-lined streets, manicured gardens, and indie clothing boutiques. Apparently, it’s the most atmospheric and captivating quarter of the metropolis. The French Concession was a territory within Shanghai which was ceded to France during the colonial era in 1849 until 1943.

  Maddie told me that there are cafés in the neighbourhood where you can get a croissant and a decent café au lait. Given my mixed French and Chinese heritage, it sounds like this neighbourhood is going to be perfect for me.

  I look up from my guidebook for a second to see my seat neighbour returning.

  “That was a long line to use the bathroom,” she says in English as I get up to let her back in her window seat. “I’m Sandra, by the way,” she says, extending an arm.

  “Hi, Sandra, I’m Clementine.”

  “Oh, what a lovely name.”

  “Thank you. Are you heading to Shanghai for work?” I ask, sitting up straight in my seat and crossing my legs.

  “No, I live there part-time. I’m actually going for family reasons. My sister’s not well. I’m going to keep her company and provide mental support while she’s in the hospital.” She takes a sip of her drink, her gold pinky ring catching the light.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “That’s kind of you. And what are you doing in Shanghai?” she asks. “Does that adorable young man over there have anything to do with your travels?” She has a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  “Him? Oh no, he’s just a friend of an acquaintance of mine.”

  “I see.” She looks disappointed. I should try to make the story more exciting for her. My mom is an opera singer, so theatre runs in my blood. Plus, I’d love the opinion of a mature woman.

  “Well,” I say, twirling my ring again, “it’s complicated.”

  She pats me on the knee and looks at her watch. “We still have nine and a half hours, dear. You can tell me anything. Take all the time you need.”

  She does look trustworthy, like a family counselor or a therapist. I wonder what she does for a living, but I’m too shy to ask.

  I clear my throat. “I have this boyfriend back home. I care for him a lot …”

  “But …”

  “Yes, you’re right, there’s a but. He’s been going through some challenges, professionally speaking. This has been hard on him, and it’s making him feel a bit insecure.” I rub my knee with my hand.

  “Challenges can either make or break a relationship.”

  A flight attendant stops by to offer us drinks. I take advantage of the distraction to inhale deeply and find the courage to continue, once the flight attendant has moved on.

  “And then there’s this charming student waiting for me at the airport in Shanghai … His name is Henry. It was his friend who delivered that note earlier. I haven’t met him in person yet, but I’m already feeling a growing attraction … and confusion, if that makes any sense.” I feel like I’m blabbering now. I wish Jake were here to calm me down.

  “Ah yes, the note. I couldn’t help but notice that. Lucky you.” She raises her eyebrows, grins, and takes another sip of her drink.

  “I don’t know if I would call myself lucky. My mind is in a tailspin. I prefer feeling more balanced,” I say. That’s what I’m craving right now: balance.

  “Let me tell you a story,” she says, staring deep into my eyes.

  I take a sip of Pinot Grigio and tilt my seat back just a little. “Okay, I’m all ears.” I need all the guidance and inspiration I can get. Not that there’s anything going on with Henry. I’m just happy to get some advice from someone, since Jake is out of reach at the moment.

  She looks at me and grins. “You’re adorable, Clementine.”

  “Not always, but I’m glad you think so. Do you have children?” I ask. She shakes her head no. The wine emboldens me to ask, “Did you ever want to?”

  “That’s a very good question, dear.” She stares blankly at the screen before her. “After college, I decided to work in the financial industry. I moved to Hong Kong and began to slowly climb the corporate ladder. There were very few women in finance back then, so I was grateful to find a job and keep it. Then I was promoted to director and, a few years later, managing director. That’s a highly coveted position in the industry. I kept at it, trying to play the game. The years passed, and I never had children. The truth is I sacrificed a lot for work, but I’m okay with it. I love my life.”

  “And now I’m dying to hear your story!” I say in a whisper, moving in closer.

  “I grew up in Shanghai. When I was your age, I went off to Yale to study finance. I’d gotten a scholarship, and a cousin of my father’s was teaching there. I figured that I would at least know one person at the school, but when I got there, I felt quite disoriented, to be honest. Making frien
ds wasn’t easy.”

  This all sounds familiar. Maybe Sandra and I are soulmates, just from different generations.

  “After a few weeks of attending classes alone, I met a student named Mathias. He had the heart of a poet and a real fire in his belly. He taught me about books, music, and fashion — oh, he loved clothes! We went shopping and dancing and nightclubbing — it was all fun, play, and freedom. He was a huge fan of the jazz scene, always looking to discover and support up-and-coming musicians. My god, I nearly lost my mind over him! Our chemistry was off the charts. And I fell madly in love. I had never experienced anything like that in my entire life.” Her eyes grow wide and her cheeks redden at the thought of her spicy nights with Mathias. I totally get the picture.

  “But my father disapproved of our relationship. When I came home for the summer, he intercepted Mathias’s love letters and burned them. It was awful.”

  That sounds devastating. Thankfully, these days, we have the internet and hard drives, but text messages and emails just don’t seem as romantic as handwritten letters.

  “Because I never responded to his letters, by the time I got back to Yale in the fall, Mathias was in the arms of another woman. And his new flame was so entrancing, that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t compete.”

  “Oh, men,” I say, trying to sound as though I have years of experience under my belt.

  “Years later, when he found out his wife was cheating on him, he contacted me, and we rekindled our friendship. But I never got over the fact that my father ruined my chance to be with the man I loved. The one I should have married. The point of my story is that you don’t need to worry. Deep in your heart and in your soul, you will always know who is your true love. You won’t even have to guess. It will be obvious. And you’ll know what to do.”

  I lean my head back as a million thoughts rush through my mind. God, I wish I could take Sandra along on my exchange program. I could use her wisdom, what with Maddie and Jake being so far away.