The Mistress

Poor Mrs Chan.  It began this summer.  He'd take me to his favourite haunts.  Some of these places, I've been with him before.  The staff is always welcoming.  We know them by name.

Perhaps it's the long absences.  Or my tendency to keep cutting, re-styling my hair.  Something changed this summer.  

This week, I observed, that change rear its head again, the moment we sat down for Thanksgiving dinner.

He tells me I am being over-sensitive.  But as an artist, I really see stories unfold before words are even exchanged.

It's what's not said.  The stealing glances.  The initial surprise that is then followed by a quick, professional, pleasant mask.  It is to Dr Chan that the warmest of welcomes are now solely directed at, and then with utmost discretion, we are always led to the most private of tables.

At lunch today, we were even offered, the private dining room!

On Friday night, the hostess realised her genuine mistake.  She rushed back to our table staring at me openly this time, excited and familiar.  

Mrs Chan, Mrs Chan!  Ni hao, ni hao!

I suspect it has also to do with the way he is so indulgent, doting.

  You can't quite fake intimacy, tenderness.  You can't fake, laughter.

Daughter, granddaughter, sister, cousin, wife, mother, daughter-in-law, sister-in-law, friend-  

the gamut of roles I inhabit.

Now, a new one has been tossed my way.

I'm no longer just the Starter Wife, nor the Trophy Wife.

In this city?  They think I'm, The Mistress!

Mickey Mouse

There once was a dog named, Mickey Mouse.

I used the credit card the Architect had given me for emergency situations, and purchased him.  The Architect was livid, understandably so.

And like Mary's Lamb and Bruno Chan, everywhere that Tammy went, Mickey would surely go.

I'd get dressed for school, scoop him up, and off we'd go.

In Chinese Literature in Translation, he sat on my desk.  Professor Lee praised his attentiveness and good behaviour.

Sometimes I'd skip school, drive north, north, north.

We've made it to Vegas once,

explored the shores of Lake Tahoe.

We've crossed the Bay Bridge many times.

(The views are much better from this other end- you see the whole city light up.)

In Los Angeles, we did groceries, ate on Sawtelle Boulevard.

(I believe Sawtelle Kitchen still exits, and it's BYOB.)

If we had visitors, we'd take them on a drive along Pacific 1, catch the sun set from the campus in Malibu.

Or we'd head out to Venice Beach.

I think because Mickey was there as I journeyed into adulthood, my steps were not tentative, but bold.

The First Forever Love, loved Mickey and loved me.  But one day, we both learnt, love was not enough.

The First Forever Love flew to LA to say goodbye to us.  

My heart broke.  

Then it was time to pack up and get on with dancing.

We learnt it's not difficult meeting people in New York.

By Thanksgiving, I could cook and throw a party.

That Thanksgiving, I drank too much.  I made a call, long-distance.  A friend had a brother who had a friend, whom she felt would truly get on with me.  She gave me his number.  I called him.  He wasn't home.  I went to bed thinking, I need to curb my self-destructive tendencies.

He returned my call the day after.  Unbeknownst to me, he had applied for a job in the city, and thought I was the job, calling him back.

Six weeks later, he arrived in the Big Apple.  Mickey and I met him at JFK, and took him home.

Since then, he's not left.

19 Years

                                                           I'm flexible, I'm adaptable.

Exactly.  We're still homeless.

I've also lost baby-sitting help on Mondays, which means I don't even make it to yoga anymore.  Every day is spent greedily out in the Commons with Dumpling the Delicious, instead.

In sunshine, in pouring rain...

It's Love.  And isn't love patience, hard work and dedication?  After one year of loving, loving him, I think he is beginning to love me back.   He recognises me, he expresses, joy.  And unlike before, now he's actually wanting to please me.

Ah, love.

  

This week, Jon and I make it to 19 years!  19 years, still married to the same man is a shocker,  especially for me, as never once had I ever wish, for a prince to come.

But arrived he did; a stranger, and immediately, my friend.

I always think I gave him my youth and my dreams.

photo credit-  TY Choo,
Backstage with the A-Team dancers at the Esplanade Theatres, 2006

At times, I wonder that he would want to be with me.

photo credit- TY Choo, Opening NIght, Esplanade Theatres, 2006

Then I read on Sunday-  

Sorrow is allowed, sorrow is advised; 

all we have to do is let go, all we have

 to do is love.

Le Futur intérieur, Francoise Leroy

French Homework

I'm half-way through the 12-sessions of Beginner French.  This week's homework is to write a postcard.

Cher Jon,
Comment ca va?  Le soleil brille.

Tu me manque.
Nous sommes alles au parc, la librairie, et le thé.
Le parc c'est calme et beau.  Je suis tres bien.
J'ai eu une bonne journée.
(Il y avait un cochon!)

Bisous,
Tam


My dearest Jon,
How are you doing?  The sun is shining.

I miss you.
We went to the park, the bookstore, and to tea.
The park is calm and beautiful.  I am very well.
I had a good day.
(There was a pig!)

Kisses,
Tam

November

She's back at school.

photo credit-  Summer Chan

Momma!  I dissected a rat today!!  A bit disturbing at first cos I had to break its limbs.  But after I cut it open, it didn't feel "real" anymore!

***

Bruno gets a haircut.

When I picked him up from daycare, I find he has new fans, and had spent the day filming (again!) for television.  Methinks, he needs an agent.

photo credit-  The Pet Spa  (Thank you for taking such good care of him.)
***

I saw a very sensible flat today.  It's right above a bakery in the Village.  I walked as slowly as possible from the yard, to the flat.

It took me no more than 2 minutes!  

The flat has completely been re-gutted and sorted out.  There are 2 bedrooms and 2 functional bathrooms.  The fixtures chosen are practical and not ugly.  There is even a designated parking space- something quite unheard of, in so central a location.  The realtor on the phone was brusque.  But in person, effable.

The problem with seeing quite possibly 100 properties in my adult life, and having lived here, there, everywhere is, the first thing that comes to mind each time I step into a potential living space:

How to sell the flat promptly when...?

There is a wall of double-glazed windows catching the afternoon sun.  The realtor says excitedly- So much sun, isn't that lovely?

My rapid non-thinking response-  It's going to be so hot in the summer, especially as you can't open the windows (too noisy too/dusty), there's no air-conditioning, we are right on the High Street, and the village gets busy during Wimbledon Season.

***

I ask Jon what happens, next fall.  He says- What about next fall?  Just be happy.

I know happiness.  It feels light, fleeting and free.

More Girl Talk

Mom?  You really don't have to send me back to school!  I can go by myself!  I've done it before!  My bag's not that heavy this time!

Uh huh.

Mom, I don't wanna go back to school!  School is very, very hard!  I'm not ready!  There's so much work!  I'm so stressed!

Uh huh.  You wanna trade and do all the things I do for a change?

Oh, Mom!  You can't do what I do!  You can't do organic chemistry and advance math!  You can't do Spanish or Biology!  You wanna do the b-math?!!  Silly Mom!

Oh, Mom?  When I grow up and start working?  Please can you help me invest my money and make sure it grows?  Please help me find a flat in London too?  And Mom?  Can you also help me choose the paint colors, wallpaper and furnish it?  And Mom?  Can you take care of my pug, because I will be too busy working?  But make sure my pug listens to me, and not just to you... OK?

Uh huh.

Mom?  What happens if I go to school in America?  Where will you be?  You will be so far away!  Oh Mom, America is so far away!!!  Mom?  I think it's a good idea for you to come back with me to Cheltenham, you can spend the night at a hotel with Bruno relaxing, then return to London on Monday!

(Sunday, in Cheltenham, relaxing.)

Mom, will you miss me?  Mom, I love you.  

Mom?  By the bar?  That's David Beckham.