by Amy Cheung
“I already paid,” I said.
“Why, thank you. I’ll take you home.”
“Chui Yuk lives in Western. Can you drop her off after me?”
“Of course.”
“There isn’t a woman waiting for you at home, is there?” Chui Yuk asked mockingly.
“You women never let an argument go, do you?” Chen Dingleung said, shaking his head.
As Chen Dingleung drove, he glanced at the book in my hand.
“Yu Mogwo, eh? I’ve read a book of his.”
“You have?” Chui Yuk asked, suddenly excited.
“It was good.”
“Yu Mogwo is Chui Yuk’s boyfriend,” I said.
“Really? Can I borrow that book?” Chen Dingleung asked me.
“Sure, you can read it first if you like.”
“How did you hear about Yu Mogwo?” Chui Yuk asked him.
Our jeep passed through a tunnel, heading straight for Chui Yuk’s neighborhood.
“Aren’t you supposed to drop me off in Central first?” I asked.
“Oh! I forgot.”
“It’s OK, there’s no rush. You can drop off Chui Yuk first.”
“You were asking me how I heard about Yu Mogwo,” Chen Dingleung said to Chui Yuk. “I was initially drawn to the name.”
I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Chen Dingleung asked.
“Do you know what the name Yu Mogwo means? It means ‘It was written in the stars.’”
“Like ‘If the bra fits, wear it’?” Chui Yuk started giggling.
Chui Yuk regained her composure. “Yu Mogwo’s very first novel was a story about human beings invading a weaker planet. But the weaker planet had done nothing wrong. It was the human beings who were at fault. That’s where his pen name comes from.”
“Trust me. It’s a good pen name. It’s lucky,” I said with a laugh.
“I know it is.” Chui Yuk looked proud.
“But the book cover design wasn’t very good,” Chen Dingleung said.
“I know. But there was nothing we could do about it. They just didn’t have money in the budget for a designer,” Chui Yuk said.
“I’ll design the next one for you,” Chen Dingleung said.
“Really?” Chui Yuk grabbed Chen Dingleung’s arm.
“His fees are high,” I said.
“Don’t worry, I won’t charge you,” Chen Dingleung said.
“You’re such a wonderful person. I had you all wrong earlier,” Chui Yuk said.
She thanked Chen Dingleung profusely when he dropped her off at her place before taking me home.
As soon as I walked in the door, I got a phone call from Chui Yuk.
“Does Chen Dingleung like you?”
“I don’t know. Do you think so?”
“He deliberately took the wrong road and dropped you off last. Wasn’t it obvious that he wanted to be alone with you? I only met him for the first time tonight, and he suddenly volunteered to design the cover of Yu Mogwo’s book. He’s not doing it for my sake, is he?”
“This is only the second time I’ve met him myself.”
“It might be love at first sight—watch out!”
“He and I have the same birthday.”
“Really?”
“Believe me, I was just as surprised as you.”
“Are fashion designers usually the licentious type?”
“It sounds like Chen Dingleung has a lot of experience with women,” I said.
“Don’t reject him,” Chui Yuk admonished me.
“Why?”
“Because if you reject him, then he won’t design the cover of Yu Mogwo’s next book. Just put up with him for a bit. Please, I’m begging you.”
“That’s totally preposterous. You only care about yourself.”
“This is actually for your own good, too. Do you think you’re still so young? Sooner or later, a woman has to think about getting married.”
“How do you know Chen Dingleung doesn’t have a wife? I’m not making the same mistake twice.”
I took the sheet of lyrics that Chen Dingleung had given me out of my purse and slid it underneath the jigsaw puzzle. I said I’d leave Sam when I turned thirty. Now this Chen Dingleung character, with whom I shared a birthday, had appeared. Was that just a coincidence? Based on what I’d seen so far, my feminine intuition told me he wasn’t awful. And I knew he didn’t dislike me. A woman always wants to be liked by a man, especially one who’s considered a real catch. I took off my necklace and dangled it under the light. The scorpion inside the crystal ball was me, and the crystal ball was Sam. There’d never be another man who’d protect me the way Sam did. Losing one was already enough.
Just then, the phone rang. I picked up, but whoever it was immediately hung up. I’d been getting a lot of these silent hoax calls recently.
One morning a few days later, I received a phone call.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“This is Sam’s wife, Mrs. Tong.”
I was stunned.
“Those silent hoax calls you’ve been getting? Those were from me,” she said. “How long have you and Sam known each other?”
“Mrs. Tong, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Denying it was the only thing I could think to do at that moment.
“Don’t bother denying it. Sam and I dated for ten years. We’ve now been married for seven. He’s changed a lot in the past four years. I know he lies to me every day. How do you know him?”
“Aren’t I entitled to any privacy?”
“Privacy, eh?” She let out a cold laugh. “I trust that you two haven’t gone so far as to do anything improper?”
She was genuinely deluded.
“Does he love you?” she asked me.
“I can’t answer for him,” I said.
“He doesn’t love me anymore,” she said soberly.
She was so calm and matter-of-fact about it that I felt a twinge of guilt.
“Can you promise that you won’t tell him about our conversation today?” she asked.
“I promise.”
I hung up the phone and sat down at the dining-room table. I picked up a piece of the puzzle and put it in its place. I thought I’d cry, but I didn’t. The day had finally come, and I’d been freed of all my doubts. Sam didn’t love two different women at the same time; he only loved me.
Sam called at dusk. He said he’d join me for dinner.
We ate at a yakitori restaurant. Sam had just made a huge profit on a trade and was in a great mood. I had no idea what that other woman would do, and I was afraid that this might be the last time we’d ever see each other. I snuggled up close to Sam, putting my leg on his lap.
Though I didn’t necessarily have to keep my word, I didn’t want her to hate me and think that I was just trying to bad-mouth her.
The following morning, Sam didn’t call me, and I started to worry. But that afternoon, I finally heard from him.
“Do you have something to tell me?” he asked me.
It appeared that I was the one who was naive. I had thought that she would keep our little chat a secret, too.
“Last night, she went stark raving mad,” he said.
“So what do we do now?”
He was silent for a long time.
“You can’t see me anymore?” I asked him.
“I’ll call you soon,” he said.
I hung up, terrified that he’d never call me again.
That evening, I went to my fashion design class.
Chen Dingleung asked us to make sketches of our designs. I drew a long black evening gown with diamond-encrusted shoulder straps. The dress was backless, and there was a giant bow in the back, at the waist. I was feeling grumpy. I went through sheet after sheet of paper before I finally got it down. Even so, it still wasn’t quite how I had imagined it. I crumpled up my sheet of paper and chucked it into the trash can.
Class ended. As I exited the classroom, Chen Dingleung caught up to me.
“I finished
reading Yu Mogwo’s book. I can give it back to you.”
I saw that he was empty-handed.
“It’s in my car. Are you heading to the other side of the harbor?”
I nodded.
“You don’t seem to be in a very good mood this evening,” he remarked as we approached his car. He opened the door for me.
“A woman doesn’t need to explain why she’s in a bad mood,” I told him, getting in.
We pulled up to my place in silence.
“Hold on.” He hopped out of the jeep and went to the rear hatch. He came back with two gigantic watermelons. “Today I went up north, to the outskirts of town, to see my mother—she lives in Fanling. She gave me these. I can’t eat them both by myself, so let me give you one.”
“Thank you.” I stepped out of the car and held out both hands.
“It’s a pretty heavy watermelon. I’ll take it up for you.”
Fancy that—he was using the watermelon as a pretext to come up to my apartment.
Chen Dingleung carried up the watermelon and put it in my refrigerator.
He looked at my jigsaw puzzle. “A fifth of the way done already?”
I checked my wristwatch. It was 10:05. Sam was probably still at the office.
“My ex-wife got remarried today,” Chen Dingleung said.
So Chen Dingleung was divorced. Today probably wasn’t a good day for him, either. We had the same birthday, and we were in a bad mood on the same day.
“How come you didn’t go to the wedding?”
“Because she didn’t invite me.”
“So how do you know she got remarried?”
“My mother told me. My ex-wife and my mother are on slightly better terms.” Chen Dingleung let out a bitter laugh.
“So your divorce definitely wasn’t the result of mother-in-law problems,” I said, smiling.
“It was the result of my own problems.”
“I don’t understand marriage,” I said.
“I don’t understand marriage, either. But I understand divorce.”
“Divorce is an agonizing ordeal.”
Did Sam feel the same way—that breaking up was even harder than making a commitment?
“It’s getting late,” Chen Dingleung said. “I’d better be going.”
“Thanks for the watermelon.”
“I almost forgot—Yu Mogwo’s book.” Chen Dingleung pulled Yu Mogwo’s book out of his pocket and handed it to me.
“Was it good?”
“It was pretty good, though I wouldn’t say it’s first-rate.”
“How many first-rate books are there in the world, anyway?” I muttered as he waved good-bye. As far as I was concerned, the two of us had nothing to talk about.
When Chen Dingleung left, I felt incredibly lonely. I had never imagined that he’d be so kind and open with me. I stared at the clock, watching the minutes and seconds pass, and then it was three in the morning. I wondered if Sam was at home, promising his wife that he’d never see me again.
I got up and hurried to get dressed. Then I headed over to Sam’s office, where I paced back and forth outside. I’d never done anything like it before. I didn’t even know if he was in there.
I was the only person on the street at that dark and desolate hour. Why couldn’t I just give up? Why couldn’t I accept the fact that this love was destined to perish sooner or later? It was agonizing.
I don’t know how long I’d been waiting when several men emerged from the bank. I didn’t see Sam among them. Maybe he wasn’t even at work.
Ten minutes later, Sam suddenly came out of the bank.
“What are you doing here?” he asked when he saw me.
“I missed you!” I cried, running into his arms.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep at this hour?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Are you planning to never see me again?’
“Let me take you home.”
It was four in the morning, and except for the rare early bird, there wasn’t a soul to be seen in Central. We held hands. Out of nowhere, I was struck by a feeling: Sam wasn’t going to leave me.
“I didn’t startle you, did I?” I asked Sam.
“I’m lucky I didn’t have a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you that she called,” I said.
“Well, she knows everything now.”
“Did you promise her that you’d never see me again?”
“When I want something, no one’s going to stop me.”
“So that means that either you don’t want to get divorced, or that you can’t get divorced, right?”
“Where’s a thirty-seven-year-old woman supposed to go after she gets divorced?”
“Oh, so that’s how it is. I’d rather be thirty-seven than be me,” I said. I understood what he meant, though—a woman could use her age to gain protection in a marriage.
“What are we going to do now?” I asked Sam.
“Just don’t use your own name anymore when you call me. Use the name Chui instead.”
“Why Chui?” I asked, feeling hurt.
“It was just a thought. Since it’s your best friend’s name, you know.”
“Fine. So am I Mr. or Ms. Chui?” I snickered.
“It’s up to you. Just don’t leave your phone number—I don’t want her to be able to track you down.”
“Why are you so afraid of her?”
“I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Sam rested both of his hands on my shoulders and said, “I’m never going to leave you.”
I weakened a bit at those words.
“Great! I’ll just change my phone number so she can’t ever reach me again.”
When we got back to my building, Sam and I parted ways, and I lay awake in bed. Any remotely intelligent woman would understand that now was the time to leave. Otherwise, she’d have wasted her youth and be forevermore resigned to being a secret paramour. But I was clearly willing to change my name to Chui at the drop of a hat. Sometimes I really hated myself.
Sam’s birthday was fast approaching. I spent every day working on the puzzle. On Sunday, Chui Yuk came over and complained that I was completely preoccupied with it.
“There are people you can hire to do puzzles for you,” Chui Yuk said.
“I want every single piece to be assembled with my own hands.”
“How will he ever know?”
“Let’s not get into that.”
“Yu Mogwo has been acting strange recently,” Chui Yuk said. “He seems to be under a lot of pressure. He’s been writing nonstop. He’s even started smoking.”
“That explains why you smell like cigarette smoke.”
“I’m worried about him.”
“I’ve never heard of anyone going insane from writing.”
That night I took a bath, then sat down at the dining-room table. I could already see the skies over Cherbourg, along with Cherbourg’s roads and most of the restaurant. There was only about a quarter of the restaurant left, along with the proprietor and proprietress.
I worked on the puzzle relentlessly until the owners were done. Only when I smelled the scent of cake from downstairs did I realize that I’d worked all the way through the night. I laid the final piece of the puzzle in its place. It was the proprietor’s chest.
Finally, I was finished. I couldn’t recall how many hours I’d spent on it, but in the end, I had before me what we’d described as our restaurant. When the time came, Sam would do the cooking, and I’d serve the customers. After lunchtime, we’d sit around, leisurely chatting away.
Before I headed to work, I went to Ms. Kwok’s cake shop to place an order.
“This is the first time you’ve ordered a cake!” she said.
“It’s for my friend’s birthday.”
“What kind of cake are you interested in?”
“Is it true that you can make any kind of design?”
“It depends on how difficult it is.”
I handed her t
he box for the jigsaw puzzle. “Can you put this restaurant on top of the cake?”
“This restaurant?” She seemed startled.
“Oh, never mind. It’s probably too complicated.”
“When do you need it?”
“Tomorrow.”
After work, Sam called me.
“Are we going to spend tomorrow together?” I asked him.
“What’s tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s your birthday. Did you forget?”
“I actually did forget. The only thing I can remember is today’s market value for the British pound.”
“So does that mean you’re not spending tomorrow with me? If you can’t, it’s no big deal.”
“What time tomorrow?”
“It’s up to you.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
After Sam hung up, Chui Yuk called.
“There’s definitely something wrong with Yu Mogwo. He hasn’t been able to write a thing these past few days.” Chui Yuk sounded deeply distressed.
“Sort of like how most people get constipated.”
“We’ve hardly crossed paths over the last few weeks.”
“Too much of a good thing sometimes makes you sick of it. Don’t let your imagination get carried away.”
As I tried to comfort Chui Yuk, I also gave some thought to what I should wear tomorrow. The occasion called for a new pair of panties, and I used my employee discount to buy a corset as well. It went perfectly with the black skirt I’d just bought.
That morning, I went to the cake shop to pick up my order. The cake looked absolutely incredible. The design really did bear a remarkable likeness to the restaurant in Cherbourg.
“I tried my best,” Ms. Kwok said.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”
I put the cake in my refrigerator and hid the finished jigsaw puzzle, which I’d framed. Then I went to work. I left work two hours earlier than usual so that I could have my hair done at a salon, and, on a whim, I bought a bottle of red wine on my way home. It was already 7:15 p.m. by the time I reached my building. I got there just in time to see Sam coming out.
“I’ve been waiting for you for a long time,” he said.
“I . . . I was having my hair done.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“What do you mean by that?” My body started shaking uncontrollably.