Page 65
Story: The Manor of Dreams
“Come here. Bring the children.”
OhGod, the children. “I can’t bring them. They have school. It’s March.” She paused. “But maybe… I can come up for a—week or something.”
“Yes. I will come get you at the airport. Just call and tell me what flight you’ll be on.”
She packed a small bag. That evening, she told her husband.
“I’m going to visit my family in San Francisco.”
“You’re leaving.”
“Just for a week.”
“Why?” His brow furrowed. He stood from the bed.
“I need to get away from this house. For a bit.” She straightened up. “Maybe that’s the best for both of us right now.”
His face fell. “What does that mean?”
“You know what I mean, Richard.” Her fingers were trembling as she tried to fold a blouse. She just threw it in. The twins and Rennie were home. He wouldn’t do anything to her now. “We’re so angry with each other. It’s not good.”
“You want to leave me.” It wasn’t a question.
Finally one of them had said it. Vivian said in defeat, “So what if I do?”
“Say what you mean.”
“What if we made it easy? We could sit down with an attorney andfigure it out. Custody. Everything.” She stared at him for a moment. His eyes glimmered green in the low light. Then his shoulders folded. He crumpled on the bed and buried his head in his hands.
“I gave you everything I had,” he whispered. “I loved you, Vivian. And now you’re going to run away from it all.”
Blood rose to Vivian’s cheeks. “I’mnot—”
“You’re going to abandon this life we built together. Ourfamily.”
Vivian stopped packing.Abandon?
“The girls are so happy. The Dengs are happy. Why would you take that away from them?” He sat up, held out a hand toward her, and she automatically reached out. He twined his fingers with hers and pulled her to him, then he slipped off the bed and onto his knees. From the floor, he held on to her legs like a child. Vivian stood over him. He said, “Double happiness, remember?”?;that was the phrase she’d always used, the phrase that came painted on their ceramic bowls. How lucky that two happy families could live under one roof. It was such a radical notion to so many, that she could be loved by Richard as a Chinese divorcée; that her children could be loved by him. But when her husband invoked the phrase, it sounded like a threat. Their two families lived in fortune because of him. She’d signed a prenuptial agreement; his mother had made them. Richard had brought Vivian into this world, and he could take her out of it, too. Everything hinged on him: the money, the happiness of her girls, their access to a better future. The livelihood of the Dengs. Without him she was the sum of a few meager roles. She was nothing.
“You’re right, qin ài de.”
His voice was plaintive. “Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t.”
“Please don’t go.”
“I won’t. We can go to San Francisco together sometime.”
She’d knelt on the ground with him. They wept in each others’ arms. He in relief, she in despair. He kissed her gently. In the morning she called to cancel her flight. And then she called her aunt and told her she wouldn’t be coming, that everything was fine, that it was just a fight.
In Cannes the day after the festival ended, Vivian lay back with Richard on a pile of cushions in a private cabana overlooking the beach. Over the course of the afternoon, they emptied a bottle of wine and dozed in the shade. Vivian tucked her head into the crook of Richard’s shoulder and pulled her loose linen dress around her. Her permed hair fanned out on the pillow.
A younger version of herself could never have imagined being here, lounging on a beach chair with her striking, tanned husband, ordering lavish food and drinks without thinking of the cost, and having it appear in front of her. She was surrounded by so much blue on all sides. The sand was softer than silk. The sun touched everything: the wine, their shoulders, the water. Still, she felt so empty inside. She thought of what it would be like to float into the ocean; to sink into it and dissolve like seafoam. She closed her eyes. Light filtered through her eyelids and she saw only a muted shade of red.
twenty-four
AUGUST 2024
OhGod, the children. “I can’t bring them. They have school. It’s March.” She paused. “But maybe… I can come up for a—week or something.”
“Yes. I will come get you at the airport. Just call and tell me what flight you’ll be on.”
She packed a small bag. That evening, she told her husband.
“I’m going to visit my family in San Francisco.”
“You’re leaving.”
“Just for a week.”
“Why?” His brow furrowed. He stood from the bed.
“I need to get away from this house. For a bit.” She straightened up. “Maybe that’s the best for both of us right now.”
His face fell. “What does that mean?”
“You know what I mean, Richard.” Her fingers were trembling as she tried to fold a blouse. She just threw it in. The twins and Rennie were home. He wouldn’t do anything to her now. “We’re so angry with each other. It’s not good.”
“You want to leave me.” It wasn’t a question.
Finally one of them had said it. Vivian said in defeat, “So what if I do?”
“Say what you mean.”
“What if we made it easy? We could sit down with an attorney andfigure it out. Custody. Everything.” She stared at him for a moment. His eyes glimmered green in the low light. Then his shoulders folded. He crumpled on the bed and buried his head in his hands.
“I gave you everything I had,” he whispered. “I loved you, Vivian. And now you’re going to run away from it all.”
Blood rose to Vivian’s cheeks. “I’mnot—”
“You’re going to abandon this life we built together. Ourfamily.”
Vivian stopped packing.Abandon?
“The girls are so happy. The Dengs are happy. Why would you take that away from them?” He sat up, held out a hand toward her, and she automatically reached out. He twined his fingers with hers and pulled her to him, then he slipped off the bed and onto his knees. From the floor, he held on to her legs like a child. Vivian stood over him. He said, “Double happiness, remember?”?;that was the phrase she’d always used, the phrase that came painted on their ceramic bowls. How lucky that two happy families could live under one roof. It was such a radical notion to so many, that she could be loved by Richard as a Chinese divorcée; that her children could be loved by him. But when her husband invoked the phrase, it sounded like a threat. Their two families lived in fortune because of him. She’d signed a prenuptial agreement; his mother had made them. Richard had brought Vivian into this world, and he could take her out of it, too. Everything hinged on him: the money, the happiness of her girls, their access to a better future. The livelihood of the Dengs. Without him she was the sum of a few meager roles. She was nothing.
“You’re right, qin ài de.”
His voice was plaintive. “Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t.”
“Please don’t go.”
“I won’t. We can go to San Francisco together sometime.”
She’d knelt on the ground with him. They wept in each others’ arms. He in relief, she in despair. He kissed her gently. In the morning she called to cancel her flight. And then she called her aunt and told her she wouldn’t be coming, that everything was fine, that it was just a fight.
In Cannes the day after the festival ended, Vivian lay back with Richard on a pile of cushions in a private cabana overlooking the beach. Over the course of the afternoon, they emptied a bottle of wine and dozed in the shade. Vivian tucked her head into the crook of Richard’s shoulder and pulled her loose linen dress around her. Her permed hair fanned out on the pillow.
A younger version of herself could never have imagined being here, lounging on a beach chair with her striking, tanned husband, ordering lavish food and drinks without thinking of the cost, and having it appear in front of her. She was surrounded by so much blue on all sides. The sand was softer than silk. The sun touched everything: the wine, their shoulders, the water. Still, she felt so empty inside. She thought of what it would be like to float into the ocean; to sink into it and dissolve like seafoam. She closed her eyes. Light filtered through her eyelids and she saw only a muted shade of red.
twenty-four
AUGUST 2024
Table of Contents
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