You asked Henk for a divorce, her mind answers.Actually, you demanded a divorce from him.
She could scream with frustration right now, she really could.Why did I do that? It’s this stupid fucking temper of mine. Lookat me, sixty-three years old, and I still don’t know how to control my emotions.
For a few moments, her mind is silent. Then it says,Well…
Well, what?Mebel thinks.
Well, is it actually your temper though? Or is it that a divorce is what you secretly wanted?
That’s crazy. She doesn’t want a divorce. She wants her old life back.
Mebel imagines a life in Jakarta as a divorcée. It is an awful thought. No friends, zero invitations to social events, and a shitty house that she’d have to downsize into.
Then again, says her traitorous mind,do you even want to move back to Jakarta? Cowley is perhaps not the best city in the world, but you’re doing well here, enrolled in the culinary school. I think what you should do is…
Yes?Mebel asks her mind expectantly.What should I do?
Maybe move to New York City and work there as a chef?
Mebel rolls her eyes. “I’m way too old for that,” she says out loud in Indonesian.
A father walking with his toddler gives her a weird look and walks faster away from her. Mebel has never been the kind of person who strangers would avoid. She has always been highly regarded because she’s always dressed to the height of perfection and has always been so well composed her entire life. But look at her now, scaring away grown men. She snorts at the thought. In a way, it’s kind of liberating.
I have no fucking clue what I am going to do with my life, she thinks. And though it is a terrifying thought, it also comes with no small amount of excitement. She senses that feeling again,the one she used to have back at USC, the sensation of being at the doorstep of the universe, looking down and seeing an entire galaxy at her feet, distant planets glimmering invitingly, and all she has to do is keep walking forward. And this time, her life path isn’t one that has been prescribed to her by others. It is going to be one that she paves one step at a time, all on her own.
Chapter 18
The next few days, messagesconstantly pour in from Mebel’s family. They are all along the lines of:
Sammy:Mami, you need to come to your senses.
Sammy:What is our whole family going to say? All the aunties and uncles and cousins? You’re not going to live this down. It’s going to destroy us.
Sammy:You know, it’ll affect the girls too. When they are old enough to find their matches, people will talk about how their grandparents were divorced. You are damning them out of good society, and for what? Just to be spiteful to Papi?
Henk:I am sorry, okay? I am sorry for everything.
Henk:Mebel, pick up your phone.
Henk:You know you’ve never worked a day in your life. You’re not cut out to work. Who’s going to want to hire someone in their sixties?
Henk:I bought this for you.
A picture of a beautiful Birkin Faubourg Tropical was sent.
Admittedly, that last text message does give Mebel pause. She taps on the photo of the Birkin and zooms in, sighing with need at the meticulous embroidery of a lush jungle on the iconic Birkin bag. What a whimsical design, so utterly Mebel, she loves that Henk gets that she is—
No, stop that. Henk doesn’t understand any part of you, her mind hisses.All he did was probably walk into the Hermès store in London and ask what Birkin they have available.
That’s true, Mebel thinks, sighing. She makes herself delete the photo. Out of sight, out of mind. Though the thought of turning down a Birkin really does hurt.
Instead, Mebel devotes all of her time to practicing her duck dish. Now that she has experienced the betrayal of her classmates, she is far more secretive than before, saying nothing about her course during class and throwing dirty looks at Kate and Matt when their backs are turned to her. After school hours, Mebel goes back into the kitchen on her own and spends hours working on her dish.
These solitary evenings spent in the darkness of an empty kitchen soon become Mebel’s sanctuary. She grows to love the silence of the space, how every single noise she makes becomesmagnified in the still air and how it sometimes feels to her like she is the only person awake in England. Without the distraction of her classmates, Mebel’s movements become more smooth and certain, as if she were a dancer onstage. She has dry-aged three pieces of duck meat using three different mixtures, each one with the same ingredients but with the quantity of each ingredient slightly altered, and tonight Mebel cooks the duck legs in separate pans, filling the kitchen with an aroma so savory that her mouth starts watering.
When the legs are cooked, Mebel calls up Gemma.
“Hey, Mebs, how’s it going?” Gemma says, smiling at the camera.
