“It’s where the flagship Hermès store is?”
“So?” Sammy says while Hannah goes, “Ah. That’s exciting, Mami. So you’ll be within walking distance to the Hermès store?”
“Yes! I can just see it. Me giving out freshly baked culinary school treats to the Hermès store employees. Can you imagine? They’ll be presenting all of their Birkins to me in no time.”
“Tell me again, Mami,” Sammy says, “are you doing this to win Papi back or to buy more Birkins?”
“Silly boy, why not kill two birds with one stone? And what a stone it is. I win not only your father back but also a Birkin.” Mebel claps excitedly, then settles back down on the sofa. “Now, do not disturb me, I need to fill out this form. My goodness, term starts in less than a week.”
“Is she really doing this?” Sammy says to Hannah.
Instead of answering him, Hannah turns to Mebel andsays, “You know, Birkins would make the most excellent souvenir.”
Mebel laughs and shakes her head. She can already see it, her wearing a beautiful Hermès scarf around her head, her eyes shaded by her Dior sunglasses, a shiny new Birkin dangling on her arm, and a tray full of warm, richly indulgent pastries in her hands as she sashays down Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré. Mebel, a traditional, uptight Chinese-Indonesian housewife, has never sashayed a day in her life, but she feels strongly that this new version of her would adopt a French sashay as soon as she sets foot in the country. And when she comes back to Jakarta, she will bring that sashay home with her, present a Michelin-star-worthy meal to Henk, and he will fall to his knees and beg her to take him back. What a magnificent plan. Mebel can’t wait to enact it.
Getting everything ready is surprisinglynot as hard as Mebel had expected. True, there are a million things to consider, such as which outfits she should take. Paris is the fashion capital of the world, after all, and Mebel would rather chew hot coals than turn up looking anything less than fashionable. But she has to take into account the weather. Most of her outfits have been curated for Jakarta—not quite tropical island weather since she spends 99 percent of her time in beautifully air-conditioned rooms, but they’re still warm weather clothes, inappropriate for Parisian fall weather. Therefore, the first thing Mebel does after submitting her application is to jump in the car and speed—well, there is no speeding in Jakarta due to the bumper-to-bumper traffic on every road—to the nearest mall.
There, she pays homage to Gucci for a leather jacket, Louis Vuitton for two Monogram suitcases to add to her collection of Monogram LV suitcases, Tod’s for sensible shoes, Ferragamo for less sensible shoes, Dior for a quilted handbag in lavender, Prada for a more casual handbag because leather is heavy (and at her age she secretly prefers nylon), YSL (she always says “YSL” because she can’t pronounce “Yves Saint Laurent”) for a wallet, Chopard for one of their Happy Sport watches to boost her spirit, and Burberry for a camel-colored trench coat. She also drops by Chanel, but can’t find anything new that she doesn’t already own, which is a shame. Something, she thinks, that she will rectify in Paris.
With all the shopping done, Mebel struts into the Singapore Airlines office on the fifth floor of the mall to buy her plane ticket. Sammy has been trying to get her to switch to buying plane tickets online, but Mebel doesn’t believe in such things. If she were to purchase tickets online, she wouldn’t be able to regale the salesperson with the entire story of her life and why she is going to Paris. The salesperson is staring at her with a dumbfounded expression, and when Mebel says, “And that is why I need a first-class one-way ticket to Paris, my dear,” he jumps up and says, “Of course, ma’am, right away!”
After furiously typing into his computer for a few minutes, he glances at Mebel and says in a conspiratorial voice, “I’ve put in a note to say that you are a VIP on a very important trip. They will treat you like royalty.”
See? Try getting that on Expedia.com.
On her way down to the lobby to be picked up, she decides at the last minute to buy a carry-on suitcase from Tumi because, let’s face it, Monogram Louis Vuitton suitcases are pretty,but they’re also a pain in the ass to drag around. By the time Mebel arrives back home, she is beaming from ear to ear. The first time she’s smiled in days.
“You look happy,” Sammy says, looking up from his laptop when she strides into the house.
“That’s the name of my new watch,” Mebel says, brandishing her wrist at him.
He glances at it, then does a double take. “Is that a Chopard?”
Mebel puts her hand up. “I know what you’re about to say. I’ve always been a Franck Muller girl, I know, I know, and this is taking you by surprise. But hear me out: This is called the Happy Sport. Isn’t that just the perfect name? And every time I move my arm, I can feel the diamonds and rubies swirling around in there, and it makes me happy.”
“Mami,” Sammy groans.
“Doesn’t it make you feel happy too?” She shakes her wrist near his ear so he can hear the soft tap-tappings of the loose diamond and ruby pieces as they spin and rattle across the watch face.
“You can’t be spending money like this.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re getting a divorce? And you don’t know how much you’ll end up with. Or how little.”
Mebel stares at him, her mind refusing to comprehend the words coming out of his mouth. “Well, in the event that I do end up getting divorced, which I won’t because I’m winning your father back, but if I did, surely I would get half of everything?”
Sammy shrugs with a sigh. “I don’t know, Mami. I hope you do, but surely you can also understand my caution. I don’t knowwhat Papi would do. He’s got all the connections, all the lawyers. I just don’t want you to be strapped for cash.”
The concept of being strapped for cash is so foreign to Mebel that when she tries to think of it, her brain goes,Nope, LOL!She tries again, harder this time. “Do you mean I might need to shop at Tory Burch?” she says in a small voice.
“I mean you might not even be able to afford Tory Burch.”
“Michael Kors?” she says in an even smaller voice.
“Not even Michael Kors.” Before Mebel can answer, Sammy goes on, “And not even Coach or Kate Spade or…I don’t know Mami, whatever else you think is ‘affordable luxury.’ No luxury items at all.”
Tears rush into Mebel’s eyes and she glares at her son. “My god,” she gasps. “You are so cruel. How did I raise such a cruel son?”
