• • •
My next session with Nancy couldn’t come soon enough. As I sat down for our second session, she asked me to continue from where I’d left off the previous week. I concluded my monologue of frustration over Cai’s view of his future in the United States. I also voiced my worries over his violent rant from the previous week.
Nancy leaned back in her chair and placed her legal pad on the desk next to her. “Thanks for sharing your story, Susan. I know it must have been difficult. But I believe if you put yourself in Cai’s shoes, you might see a different perspective. Try to think of how he feels, alone and lost in a new country.”
A lump formed in my throat. If she continued to speak, I didn’t hear it. All I could think about was what she had said. What in my story showed I hadn’t been thinking about Cai for the last five years? Had she heard me during the two hours I recounted my story, or was it Cai whom she was concerned about? I was so taken aback by her response that I sat in shock, speechless, while a familiar fury simmered inside. When I left Nancy’s office at the end of our session, it was for the last time. There was no way I’d go back.
The next time Cai stayed home, he barely spoke when I came back from day care with Jake. During dinner, he said, “The concert tour check came today.” He looked down at his lap. “It was only five hundred dollars.”
Five hundred? For a year and a half of driving a hundred miles at least four days a week, often more. I quickly calculated that this check probably only covered his meals for a few of those months. Cai already seemed upset about it. If I added my frustration, I worried he would crawl into a deeper depression.
“That’s okay. You didn’t expect it to be a moneymaker. It was more for the experience, you know?”
“It’s impossible to make money here. Xiaohong’s brother is moving back to China. He says it’s so easy to make money there now.”
What could I say to that? It was true; China was the place to make money nowadays, especially as the Internet boom started to fizzle in the Bay Area. China was just opening up to foreign investors, and for the first time since the 1940s, people outside the government were able to make unlimited amounts of money. I was at a loss as to what I could say to Cai to calm him. I still believed that money wasn’t the answer to our problems, but I knew he wouldn’t feel any better hearing that from me. It was time to ask about seeking professional help.
“Cai, maybe we should go for couples counseling. I think you might feel better talking to—”
“I’m not talking to anyone.” He scowled. “Chinese people don’t do that.”
“But—”
“No. I don’t have any problems.” He pushed his chair out, as he had on Mother’s Day, and stormed into the living room. Jake didn’t seem perturbed by Cai’s rant, yet I knew there would soon be a day when he would understand what was going on. And it would most certainly affect his behavior. I took Jake from his high chair and held him tightly for comfort, while the Mandarin radio show drowned out the silence from the living room.
Chapter 42
A “Casual” Visit to China
After my failed attempt to start therapy and to get Cai to see a couples’ counselor, I felt too discouraged to look for another psychologist. Would he or she also tell me to look at my problems through Cai’s eyes? If I heard another reaction like that, I worried that I would start to believe it was true. I’d been in this dysfunctional relationship for five years and could no longer tell what about it was normal and what was unacceptable.
I needed to hear that I was correct in feeling that something was terribly amiss in my marriage. Which meant that something good did come from my two appointments with Nancy: I was now ready to discuss my problems with friends. Doug and Anna, the coworkers I sat with at my work holiday party, let me vent during hour-long lunch breaks across the street at the student union. I grew to look forward to these powwows.
Cai called me at work one morning with excitement and energy in his voice that I hadn’t heard in months. At first I had thought he had found a full-time job, but it soon became apparent he was calling for a different reason.
“I just talked to a travel agent and found a cheap flight to China. I think we should go this spring to visit my family.”
I suddenly felt dizzy and grabbed the chair’s armrest with my free hand. “Really?”
We hadn’t spoken about visiting Mama and Baba in Hidden River, but the idea had lodged in the back of my mind since we’d decided to move to San Francisco. Now that we had Jake, it frightened me to think about taking him to China. What would I do if Jake got sick there? Hidden River wasn’t Beijing or Shanghai with English-speaking physicians and nurses. Cai didn’t know many English medical terms, nor did I know many Chinese ones.
And of course there was Mama’s offer to raise Jake until he was old enough to attend elementary school—and Cai’s threat to carry out these wishes. When I thought about going to Hidden River with Jake, I felt like throwing up.
“It’s only one thousand dollars for each of us, and Jake can go for free because he’s not two yet,” Cai said. “Once he’s two, we have to buy a ticket. So we need to go before June. I’m thinking April.”
Excuses of how I could stall him flew through my mind. There was no way I could let Jake go to China. I closed my eyes and took a breath.
“Well, don’t book anything yet. My boss is going to Europe in a few days, so he’s busy preparing for that. I’ll try to ask before he leaves, but if not, I might not be able to ask until he returns in a couple of weeks.”
Miraculously, Cai agreed to wait. I now had at most three weeks to get myself—and Jake—out of going to China. Once my boss returned in the middle of March, I would no longer have a reason to hold off buying plane tickets to China. I couldn’t concentrate on work, which was becoming commonplace. I spent an hour each morning emailing my parents about Cai, and only answered my work emails and took care of one or two tasks before breaking for lunch. And for that hour, I would talk to coworkers like Doug and Anna. By the time we returned from lunch, I felt too daunted by the pile of work in front of me and figured it wouldn’t make much difference if I tackled it the next day.
This had been going on since just after I met with Nancy the therapist for the second time. Cai consumed my every moment. Now with this China trip on the horizon, I sat in front of my computer agonizing about being trapped in Hidden River for a few years if Cai and his parents refused to let Jake return to the United States. After all, I would never leave Jake behind in China. Memories of feeling isolated and depressed in Hidden River started to flood my mind until I couldn’t read the words on my screen.
At home that evening, Cai’s enthusiasm from the morning had evaporated and his usual pessimism had returned in full force.
“Xiaohong’s brother paid five hundred a month for day care in San Jose before he moved back. It’s much cheaper to raise the baby in China. It’s not even five hundred a year.”
How could I reply to that? We had already had this discussion, and I knew costs were cheaper in China. But I had to say something. Silence, I’d come to learn, equaled compliance.
“Jake is in a small day care, which seems to be good for him.”
“Some grandparents take care of their grandchildren. Then it’s really cheap.”
There was no way Jake would live with Mama and Baba. I didn’t know how I could get Cai to understand this. He seemed to understand back in Hidden River when Mama had first brought it up, but that had changed somewhere over the years. It was futile to engage further in this conversation. “I’m going to heat the leftovers now.”
As usual, Cai wasn’t talkative that evening. So once I dropped the topic, he didn’t revisit it that night.
Back at work the next morning, I emailed my parents for more than an hour, relaying what Cai had said about it being cheaper for Mama and Baba to raise Jake in China. I hated being paranoid for thinking
Cai would want to keep Jake in China, but given his unhappiness, I couldn’t put it past him. My mom wrote back right away, mirroring my concerns.
Over lunch in a student union café, I also told my coworker Doug about my conversation with Cai the previous night. When I mentioned how Cai wanted us to travel to China in April, Doug put his hand up in midchew.
“Susan,” he said a moment later. “My friend’s brother went through the same thing, but he actually lost his daughter in China. I think you should talk to my friend Aimee. She works in neurology.”
I agreed immediately, partly because Doug was willing to go to the trouble of asking his friend to talk to me and partly because I wanted to hear from someone who knew what could happen in my situation.
The next morning I heard a knock at my open door. Aimee Chan stood before me with a reserved smile. She looked to be about my age and carried her wallet and ID card in one hand. “Do you have a minute?”
“Yes, of course. Come in.”
She squeezed into the empty chair in my tight office, her long hair swinging to one side. I closed the door as she sat down.
“Doug said you’re thinking about going to China with your husband and baby.” She pushed her oval glasses up the small bridge of her nose. “My niece is there now and I’m not sure we’ll ever see her again.”
I sat forward in my chair, facing Aimee as she recounted her story. Born and raised in San Francisco, Aimee’s older brother, Tim, had turned twenty-nine several years earlier and wanted to marry. With no prospects in America, he sought a wife in his parents’ ancestral home back in southern China.
“Tim visited our relatives there and met a shy girl named Mei. They fell in love, and Mei moved to the United States a few months later to marry Tim.
“When my niece, Katherine, was born a year later, she became the star of the family. Mei never found a job and lounged around at home while my parents took care of Katherine. So when Mei wanted to bring Katherine back to China to visit her family, Tim thought it would do Mei some good.” Aimee sniffled as tears welled in her eyes. “Tim drove them to the airport on his day off and told Mei he’d meet her in two weeks at the SFO international terminal.”
Aimee sniffled again, so I handed her a tissue from the box on my desk. She slid it under her wire-framed glasses.
“But when Tim went to the airport, Mei and Katherine weren’t there. He worried they’d missed their flight, which originated in Hong Kong. So he phoned Mei’s parents in China when he arrived home. That’s when he learned Mei didn’t want to return to San Francisco.”
“How old was Katherine then?”
Aimee sniffled. “She wasn’t two yet. We were planning a big birthday party for her the week after she was supposed to return. I’d already bought her a new dress and doll.” Sobbing, she couldn’t continue.
I reached for more tissues, this time for both of us. Katherine had been in China for a year now and Tim had only seen her once, during his annual two-week vacation.
“Why couldn’t he just take Katherine back with him?” It seemed like that two-week vacation would have been a perfect time to bring Katherine home.
“Who in Mei’s town would side with Tim? The laws there favor Chinese citizens, not Americans.”
“Katherine and Tim are United States citizens, so can’t our government help?”
“Thousands of kids are kidnapped to other countries every year. Our case is just one of many. We’re not famous and we’re not rich, so we haven’t been able to get anyone to help us.”
I rubbed my hands over my face, frightened for Aimee’s family and for myself. Although her story seemed shocking, I knew it wasn’t uncommon for Chinese spouses to take their children back to China. I just assumed the U.S. government would do more to help children who were kidnapped to other countries. But now I could see that didn’t happen.
Aimee glanced at her pink Hello Kitty watch. “I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work.”
“I understand. Thank you so much for sharing your story with me. I know it’s hard to talk about it.” She had given me more to think—and worry—about.
After she opened the door, she turned back to me. “Don’t do it, Susan. Don’t go.”
For the family’s prosperity,
There are very good rules;
Women should zealously learn them.
Of these, to follow peace
Is of the first importance.
Obedience in all things is the next.
—Ban Zhao
Instruction for Chinese Women and Girls
Chapter 43
Now or Never
If Aimee’s brother thought he had a good marriage and this had happened to him, I would be delusional to think it wouldn’t happen to me. Cai had already said he wanted to send Jake to live with his parents. Aimee was right—I couldn’t go to China or let Cai take Jake there.
How to tell Cai was another issue. When I thought about how he would react, I felt sick to my stomach.
That evening, Cai greeted me with a rare smile.
“I bought niángāo today. Your favorite.” Niángāo is a gooey, sweet cake made from glutinous rice that people eat on Chinese New Year. I had quickly fallen in love with it while we lived in Hong Kong.
It was unusual for Cai to make something special for me, especially these last couple years. He barely spoke to me, and he certainly didn’t touch me anymore. So this gesture naturally seemed suspicious. He really must want to go to China, I thought.
After setting the table and carrying the dishes he had just whipped up in the wok, I sat down with Jake and Cai, hoping for a peaceful dinner, one in which he didn’t scowl or storm out of the kitchen. Miraculously, Cai continued to act upbeat. For the first time in months, he looked happy.
“I got a job today.”
“You did? What is it?” This was the news I’d been waiting to hear for almost two years, and I hadn’t even known he’d applied for one. I sat on the edge of my chair, waiting to hear more. The news would be even better if he announced that we wouldn’t be able to go to China now.
“Well, you know that Chinese radio show I sometimes listen to?”
I nodded. When Cai stayed home in the evenings, he still tuned in to the local Mandarin radio program where listeners called in to speak about politics, the arts, China, or current affairs.
“I’m going to host a radio show.” He beamed with pride as he helped himself to a round of ground beef and ku guā, canned sardines, and dried tofu with scallions.
“Cai, I’m so proud of you. This is great!” After all this time, he had finally found a job commensurate with his qualifications. Maybe he would finally feel more settled in San Francisco. This job could be the turning point for his depression, the job that would bring back the old Cai from when we met in Hong Kong.
I could picture it clearly: Cai would become well-known in the Bay Area, and wherever he went in the mainland Chinese community, people would know his voice. He’d be offered other speaking engagements, like the emcee jobs he’d been doing, but for more pay. Without knowing more details, I thought it sounded like the perfect job. All my former resolutions started to fade away. After all we’d been through, I couldn’t give up on him now that he’d found a job he seemed interested in and qualified for.
“I didn’t tell you about it because I wanted it to be a surprise if I got it. Today I went to talk to the producers, and they liked my deep voice and background in China and here.”
“That’s wonderful! See, it just took some time to find the right job.” I leaned back in my chair before helping myself to more tofu and green onions. Although the Chinese dishes we ate at home had long ago started to taste the same, tonight they seemed novel.
In a flash, Cai’s smile disappeared and his eyes darted south, staring into his rice bowl. “It’s just a part-time job. Six to eight, Monday thro
ugh Thursday. I start tomorrow.”
“That’s okay. It could lead to something with more hours. You never know unless you try.” He might feel discouraged about the lack of hours, but I still saw it as a wonderful opportunity and a giant step through the door.
Cai shrugged and lifted his rice bowl to his lips, shoveling the remains into his mouth to finish dinner and this conversation. For the rest of the night, he stared at the TV, watching the evening news from China.
The next morning, I raced to my office to email my parents about this change in events.
Cai found a job hosting a radio show. With this exposure to the Chinese community, I think he’ll regain confidence. He starts tonight, but said he can still take off two or three weeks to go to China in the spring. I wonder if I should just go with him. It might be more difficult for him to go in the future, if he gets more jobs and becomes more well-known in the Bay Area. This could be Jake’s only chance to see Mama and Baba for years. In the worst case, if Cai and his parents want to keep Jake in China, I can take our passports and some Chinese yuan and find a taxi near his parents’ danwei. I could leave when everyone’s sleeping and take Jake to Wuhan by taxi, even though it’s a two-hour drive. Then we could get on a flight to Shanghai or Beijing and from there use my credit card to buy tickets to the U.S. or Hong Kong.
My mom replied an hour later.
Great news about Cai’s job, but I’ll worry about you if you think you’ll need an escape route. That sounds very frightening. Maybe you should look into the rights you’d have in China if they did try to keep Jake there. The State Department would know. So would a lawyer specializing in international custody law.
Though she had a point about the escape route, I wanted to see how Cai would behave once he started his radio job. If this position finally helped him adjust to San Francisco, I didn’t want to say anything that would bring him back to his depressed state. I could always call an international law expert if need be.
Good Chinese Wife Page 26
