The Bathing Women (47 page)

Lately, the main topic of their phone conversations was Wu’s plastic surgeries. When Tiao described over the phone, with indignation, how Wu had nose and eyelid surgeries, she thought Fan would be more annoyed than she was. But quite surprisingly, Fan just paused for a second and then laughed until she gasped for breath. “That’s hilarious. That’s so hilarious. Well, won’t I have a new mother this way?” And she laughed again. Her laughter contained neither anger nor approval; in it, there was an observer’s detachment that allowed for watching others make fools of themselves, and Tiao’s indignation made her laugh even harder. She truly looked forward to seeing people in China make fools of themselves, and was also curious to see Wu’s new face. When Tiao refused to send her Wu’s post-surgery photographs, she simply called Wu for them. Her request for pictures encouraged Wu to plan more surgeries. No longer shy about it, Wu openly talked with Fan over the phone about her vision of face-lifts and liposuction. Wu and Fan, the mother and daughter, had grown close because of Wu’s plastic surgeries, which made Tiao remark acidly during one of their phone conversations, “Fan, you’ve given Mum plenty of spiritual support. But when she went to do her abdominal liposuction, I was the one who took her to the hospital and then picked her up afterwards. Are you aware that this kind of surgery is dangerous? Why don’t you come home and visit her?”

Fan said, “Next time. When she does her breast augmentation, I’ll come back.” Tiao just wanted to slam the phone down when she was listening to her sister.

But Fan’s phone call this time was not to discuss Wu’s plastic surgery. She said, “Older sister, guess who came to Chicago. Fang Jing.”

“Really? Do you want me to get you an introduction to him?”

“No need. I’ve met him. When he was giving a lecture at the University of Chicago, I was his interpreter.”

“Really?”

“I told him that I was your sister. He said he would have guessed even if I hadn’t told him.”

“Is that so?”

“Then he invited me to dinner. When I was with him, he didn’t mention you at all. He kept praising my English.”

“Really?”

“Later, I drove him to the art museum. He likes Marc Chagall’s paintings. He likes this Jewish guy.”

“Really?”

“Why do you keep saying ‘really’? Don’t you want to know what I think of him?”

“No, I don’t want to know.”

“But I want to tell you. He called me every day, so one time I spent the night at his place.”

“Really?”

“I’d say he’s a nice-enough guy, but unfortunately I don’t love him. He’s naïve, and after he told me that two of his teeth were rotting, I lost interest in him entirely. But just a few moments ago, right before I called you, he phoned.”

“Really?”

“So, what do you think about it?”

Tiao took a deep breath and said with great deliberateness, “Fan, I wanted to tell you that Chen Zai is divorced.”

“Really?”

“I think you should be happy for me.”

“Of course, I … am happy for you.”

Tiao put down the telephone and stood up to stretch. The black water was circulating through her body, and the words that Fang Jing had written filled her insides. Her body was filled with a long-vanished true love. There was no hatred in her heart, only her hope for the future.

On the same day, at the Publishing House, a woman she’d never met arrived at her office to see her. The woman introduced herself. “My name is Wan Meicheng. I’m Chen Zai’s ex-wife.”

2

Tiao was rattled at Wan Meicheng’s unexpected appearance at her office. She wasn’t afraid that Wan Meicheng had come to attack her, though; it was not the first time that Tiao had come between a married couple. She was determined to marry Chen Zai openly. No, she wasn’t afraid of Wan Meicheng; she was simply a little nervous, with mixed feelings of guilt and sympathy.

She led Wan Meicheng to the sofa near the door and sat across from her. She didn’t stare at Wan Meicheng but carefully took her in. Chen Zai had mentioned that Wan Meicheng was ten years younger than he was, which meant she was five years younger than Tiao, so about thirty-three years old, but she looked even younger than that. She was gentle and delicate, but her forehead was full, with shiny hair all combed back and secured with a red-wood hairpin. She had light eyebrows, and her large eyes with their frank gaze seemed to conceal no ill intentions. Her makeup and clothing were tasteful. Tiao remembered that Chen Zai had said she was an art teacher in a high school, and she looked exactly like an art teacher: honest, responsible, but also with an underlying romanticism that she restrained. She took out a pack of cigarettes and asked Tiao, “Can I smoke here?”

“Technically speaking, no. I don’t even have an ashtray.”

Suddenly she seemed disoriented and said, “Well, I mean, I never smoke at school or in front of the students. It’s just I’m here with you … and we’re meeting for the first time and I’m very nervous. I’m thinking that smoking might help a little. But still I shouldn’t smoke, I know.”

Wan Meicheng’s admitting to Tiao that she was nervous made Tiao feel she was more honest than she was herself. Tiao picked up a paper cup, half filled it with water, and placed it in front of Wan Meicheng. She said, “You can flick the ash into the water. It’s informal, but practical.”

Wan Meicheng said “Okay,” lit a cigarette, and started to smoke. The way she lit the cigarette, smoked, and flicked the ash was hesitant and ungraceful. Apparently she was a novice smoker, and her technique suggested that she hadn’t learned it long ago at all, very likely after her divorce from Chen Zai. Smoking makes a woman look sophisticated and worldly, but Wan Meicheng’s awkward smoking was reminiscent of a teenager learning to be bad behind her parents’ backs. Tiao had no reason to dislike Chen Zai’s ex-wife, but what exactly had brought her here?

Wan Meicheng said, “Tiao, you must be wondering why I came to see you. I want to tell you that there’s nothing I want from my visit. If I’d wanted anything, I would have come to you before the divorce, and I would have begged you to let go of Chen Zai and return him to me, which I did think about doing from time to time these past years. Now, with everything over, Chen Zai and I already divorced, and you two about to get married, why would I want to come to see you now? What’s my purpose in coming? You might not believe me if I told you that I was desperately asking myself that same question on my way here. And it occurred to me that it was because I still love Chen Zai so much. I so yearn to get near him that I even yearn to get close to the one dearest to him. That you’re his dearest is a fact that I learned long ago. Your breath has his breath in it, your eyes have his gaze, and your skin has the warmth of his body. When I pushed open the door and entered your office, when I first caught sight of you and came closer, I saw and smelled him, his body. That’s exactly why I came. I want to sit with you for a moment, just a moment. I didn’t come here to fight with you, or to accuse you. I’ve thought thousands of times that our marriage was wrong from the beginning. He married me because he was pursued by me so much that he had no way out. Today I want to tell you honestly that he should have been yours to begin with. But none of it can stop me from loving him. He left the house to me after the divorce, and I haven’t seen him for a while. I know he’s away in the south, so I especially wanted to take the chance to see you. Only when I’m with you do I feel close to him, and safe. Safe, you understand? You make me feel safe.”

Tiao hadn’t expected anything like that out of Wan Meicheng, and the special feeling she described was something that Tiao had never heard of, either. She stared at this woman who was smoking clumsily, and couldn’t help thinking of how she had ruined Wan Meicheng and Chen Zai’s marriage; as a result, Tiao should, by rights, have been the least safe element in Wan’s life. So she remained suspicious. Maybe Wan Meicheng was using mockery to attack her. Tiao would have preferred something more direct.

But Wan Meicheng didn’t appear to be mocking. She smoked awkwardly but her expression was sincere. She threw the cigarette butt into the water in the paper cup, leaned forward slightly, and said, “One day after an afternoon nap, I sat in front of the window in a daze—I’m very good at that. Particularly in the last few years when Chen Zai tried to discuss divorce with me, I could sit for hours in a daze. That particular day I sat dazed and thought about my first meeting with Chen Zai. It was during a summer break, before I graduated from college. I returned to Fuan to work as a tutor for a factory director’s child. That same day Chen Zai was involved in a car accident with me, which was actually my fault; I went through a red light—I was rushing to get to the factory director’s home. I ran into Chen Zai’s car and my body was thrown from the car. My knees and hands were scraped. Chen Zai was very worried and immediately drove me to the hospital. He took me to have the cuts and scrapes treated and then accompanied me to get a complete examination. He asked me whether my head had struck the ground and I said it was nothing, but he insisted that I go for an X-ray. After I finished the checkup, he drove me home, explained the situation to my parents, and left his phone number, beeper number, and mobile phone number—back then, few people had mobile phones. He left me all these numbers without any hesitation and told me that I should call him if something happened. He was a gentleman, a true gentleman, which was the only word I could think of when I was lying in bed. I didn’t doubt that there were excellent men in the world, but I hadn’t met one like him.

“The next day I called him and he picked up the phone, which proved he hadn’t deceived me with a fake number. I felt a deep joy, and not only because he’d given me the real number. Over the phone, he asked me how I felt and offered to take me back to the hospital if I needed a ride. I told him that I did have a need, but it was really the need to see him that I had. Then he drove to my parents’ home. We went to the hospital four times within a month and chatted in the car. When he learned that I’d majored in painting, he asked me if I liked the French painter Balthus, and I had no idea who he was. At the time, I hadn’t seen Balthus’s paintings yet, not even reproductions. Chen Zai didn’t laugh at my ignorance, he was so considerate; to avoid embarrassing me, he quickly changed the subject. I was grateful for his sensitivity and kindness. By the time I recovered, I found myself in love with him. I returned to the school, as the summer break was over, and started to write to him—I guess you could call them love letters. I also drew some cartoons, like you see in those girls’ comics. They all had plots that showed how much I loved and missed him. I sent all these to him but never received any replies. Tiao, please note that he never wrote back to me. Then the winter break came and I couldn’t wait to get back to Fuan. And the first thing that I wanted to do was see him.

“We met. I told him very directly that I loved him. He smiled his apology at me and said I was still a student and he was much older than I was. He hoped I could consider my life and future seriously. I said, ‘I’m very serious. I don’t mind the ten years’ difference in age as long as you’re not in love with someone else.’ Given his age then, he should have married a long time ago. He didn’t reply even though I kept pressing him. I said, ‘If you don’t respond, it must mean there is another woman in your heart, right? Am I right?’

“‘Yes, I’ve loved her for many years.’

“‘Then why don’t you get married?’ I asked. He became quiet again. I was pretty emotional and again insisted he tell me why. Finally he told me that he wasn’t sure whether the one he loved was in love with him or not. His words made me feel hopeful and I said something very silly: ‘But you know I’m in love with you.’ He looked at me helplessly, such a deep helplessness. I realized how unreasonable I was being and at the same time became bolder. I told him I must have him, and that I could compete with the woman he loved. Then I asked him what he thought of that, and he said it was pointless. Love shouldn’t be a competition. I said I would compete because I wanted to win love, and he said, ‘You’ll only win suffering that way.’ I knew he had already turned me down. His way of expressing it might have been indirect, but he left no room for doubt.

“That night I ran a high fever, nearly forty degrees, which made me talk deliriously. The fever stayed high for two days and I had to be sent to the hospital. There was no inflammation in my body and the doctor couldn’t find what was wrong with me. I couldn’t eat anything. I couldn’t even keep water down. My body temperature kept rising to more than forty degrees, and half the time I was raving his name. My parents called him, and he came to the hospital to see me. He sat by the bed and held my burning-hot hand, and the strange flush on my cheeks touched him. He told me to listen to the doctor and get myself well first. We could talk after I got better. His words revived my despairing heart, the best fever reducer for me. My illness miraculously disappeared, which to this day I still can’t explain, just as I don’t know why I got sick without any apparent reason. I knew I had been really sick, but I think I’d been lovesick, love-crazed. With all my heart, I leaped into that fire. After I left the hospital I didn’t get to see him. He went abroad, and I had to go back to school.

“There was one term left before my graduation and I could hardly wait for him to come back from abroad. When he returned a month later, in desperation I asked for a leave from school and went to Fuan to see him. I came to his place, his apartment. It was evening, a spring evening. I completely lost control of my emotions and cried my heart out in his room. The intrusion must have made him very uncomfortable, and I can see now how I made his life unbearable. He wiped my face with a hot towel and kept offering to take me home. What an awkward situation it was for a decent man. What did I hope to achieve? I said I was willing to do anything for him. I cried and said, ‘I love you, Chen Zai. I love only you. Marry me. You’re the only one in the world I would want to be with.’

“He kept saying, ‘Let me think it over. Let me think it over carefully. But it’s too late tonight. You should go home.’ He helped me on with my coat and drove me home. As soon as his car left I ran back to his place. I stood downstairs and gazed at the light in his window, and then I leaned against his door. I wanted to get close to him this way, to express my loyalty to him. I was like the old cat my family had years ago. He was so old that he could hardly walk anymore. And we didn’t want to see him die at home. One day my father took him on his bicycle and rode a long way, leaving him on a tractor parked on the side of the road. But two days later, when my father opened the door to go to work, he saw the old cat curled up there waiting for us to open the door. He’d found his way home by himself. I sat at Chen Zai’s doorway like that cat, hoping I would move him the way the old cat moved our whole family. I sat in front of Chen Zai’s apartment for an entire night until he found me next morning when he was leaving. I’d fallen asleep by then. He carried me into his apartment and put me on his bed. He held my cold hands in his hands and said, ‘Why do you have to be like this?’