HONG KONG: April-May, 2004 (Part 4)

Step One was getting out of the mall we called home and onto the streets of Hong Kong, where I found myself angling through crowds in a crazy dance. The city byways were not only packed with foot traffic, but every other intersection was in the throes of demolition. Detours routed pedestrians this way and that.

I jostled, bumped and careened through cars and trucks and hordes of people. It was a shock to step out of our quiet apartment, swoosh down inside a silent elevator and then — whoa — slam into a mass of humanity that made Manhattan seem tranquil.

Persevering, I came upon an alley with a row of small booths, each one stacked with knockoff designer handbags, sneakers and sunglasses.

Okay, just a little look-see. Studying the goods, I picked up a running shoe, tried on a pair of glasses, then got quite excited when I found a snappy four-dollar backpack in a booth piled with flowery luggage. Sold.

The damn thing lasted exactly two months and fell apart in my hands the day I flew home.

My Hong Kong browsing also took me through several Watsons drugstores, where I discovered inexpensive toiletries. I developed a real affection for these stores, but how many jars of skin cream or tubes of toothpaste did I really need?

Drop it. Drop the shopping thing.

The green-and-white Star Ferry slipped across Victoria Harbor, from Kowloon Peninsula to Hong Kong Island. After this breezy trip, I jumped on a bus that traveled a twisty route straight up to Victoria Peak, the highest mountain on Hong Kong Island. Because of the area's subtropical climate, the peak's hillsides are a mass of verdant jungle into which soaring apartment buildings are precariously built. Condominiums in this neighborhood sell in the millions of dollars, ranking Hong Kong real-estate prices third in the world, behind London and Monaco.

Hong Kong's population of nearly seven million is squeezed into about 425 square miles. Views from Victoria Peak to the harbor are spectacular. Hong Kong is the banking center of China and its ports serve a worldwide community in trade and commerce. This combination of factors has buyers lined up and prepared to shell out exorbitant amounts for homes aloft in the clouds.

On the bus ride up, I craned my neck to see cemeteries cut into the mountainside. Far below, on tiny green fields, I could see what looked like insects chasing an itsy-bitsy soccer ball. I don't suffer from vertigo, but at this dizzy height I breathed deeply and chose to trust the driver. What else could I do?

HONG KONG: April-May, 2004 (Part 3)

After he left for the airport, I stood alone in the kitchen. Spencer brushed against my leg. Stinky looked up with big brown eyes. I was lost. I had to trust that our bubble would not burst.

Thirty-six hours later William called home.

I'm glad I'm married.

What do you mean?

On the flight I thought about it and once I got here and talked to people in the office, it just hit me. I liked calling you my wife. As in "My wife will arrive later" or "My wife will need a ride to the airport." I liked it. I like being married.

It surprises you?

A little...yeah.

I smiled. I liked hearing this and it surprised me a little as well. Different. Better.

I miss you so much.

Me too.

Two months. Two months.

And those two months finally passed and I too zoomed to the airport and around the globe.

At the Hong Kong airport William greeted me with a big smile. I slipped back into our bubble and the car that delivered us to our apartment, where William had flowers, wine and a dim-sum lunch waiting. Although our one-bedroom living space was basic and beige, it was roomy enough and had a kitchen.

Hong Kong is vertical. Our apartment, in the district of Kowloon, was above a shopping mall. Almost everything in Hong Kong is above a shopping mall. Giant, blocks-long, dazzling shopping malls. Certainly I had been aware of Hong Kong's reputation as a shopping mecca. However, brand-name bargains didn't jump out at me. Had I traveled over seven thousand miles only to find Rodeo Drive prices?

Further quelling any potential homesickness, the familiar faces of Hollywood stars greeted me every day. Actors we don’t normally see hawking products in the U.S. take the money and run in Asia. The steely handsomeness of Brad Pitt, George Clooney and Adrien Brody stared down at me from giant billboards.

I decided to dump the notion of shopping and better use my time to explore this lofty burg. However, as gambling is to Vegas, consumerism is to Hong Kong. Shopping is the territory's lifeblood and I would find myself sucked into the sport over and over.

HONG KONG: April-May, 2004 (Part 2)

A few months earlier, shortly after our elopement, William's parents had held a traditional Chinese banquet to celebrate. To prepare, William and I took dance classes, practicing to "Overjoyed" in a piece specially choreographed by our dance teacher. We dipped, spun and laughed through weeks of practice sessions, each one followed by a delicious sushi dinner in a restaurant below the studio.

For the banquet, our talented designer friend, Gilles, made me a red silk dress with a tiny bustle and an elegant train. William wore a dark suit with a red tie. We arrived at our party and met lots and lots of strangers. William's parents had planned every element of the evening and all we had to do was get dressed, show up, and dance.

Traditional dragon dancers entertained the crowd, a five-piece band played and friends and relatives from as far away as Australia, Japan and Hong Kong attended. An elaborate multi-course meal was served, wine was poured and we performed our dance. We laughed and chatted and did all the things that wedding couples do.

William's parents were brimming with happiness. We understood this evening was as much for them as it was for us. William took the microphone and raised his glass to them. I want to toast my mom and dad for this evening. Thank you for showing us how to celebrate.

We spent the night sharing looks, smiling and touching hands. Our bubble had begun to form. A few weeks later we took a two-day honeymoon to Newport Beach, where we rode bikes along the seashore, slept in during the mornings and dined on steaks at night.

A few days later it was time for William to leave for Hong Kong.

HONG KONG: April-May, 2004 (Part 1)

A ticket to Hong Kong. What an opportunity.

Having never been to Asia, I cleaved to cinematic images of what the metropolis, with its grand harbor, must look like. I pictured small junks with papery sails contrasted against skyscraping architecture. I imagined Tai-Pan and its august sailing ships, or nightclubs aglow in neon from The World of Suzie Wong. I heard a soundtrack of Chinese opera mixed with lush Hollywood compositions.

The flight on Asiana Airlines was entirely enjoyable because I was in the richness of business class, courtesy of William's employer. To date, it’s been the only time I've been granted anything above economy class and I made the most of the experience.

I appreciated the legroom and the wide leather seat. The food service included appetizers designed as edible art pieces. Thin slices of cucumber curled around sweet, pink shrimp. Crab dip, cheeses and spicy patés, then tender rice noodles topped with carrot ribbons.

Decisions had to be made: sleep in my luxurious chair or stay awake and continue eating, sipping champagne and watching movies? I panicked. The flight was near seventeen hours and I feared there might not be enough time to do everything.

*****

Get your scissors ready, the director had told William when this project came up. The film would provide William with his first opportunity to act as a department head on a studio feature, and in a distant location to boot.

I was in the stratosphere at the idea of traveling to the Far East. Unfortunately, William would leave at the end of January and I wouldn't arrive until April. We were in our first year of marriage and our fifth year together, and we had never been apart for as long as two months.

The limousine parked in our driveway. The driver discreetly loaded William's bags into the trunk while the two of us embraced on the front lawn. The dog and cat sat on the porch, no doubt wondering why their parents were acting all goofy and sentimental.

It won't be long, I whispered.

Long enough, he answered into my hair.

AN EVEN HOTTER DAY IN AUGUST (Part 4)

We crossed the parking lot. It was nine-thirty in the morning and already tremendously hot. William asked me to wait outside while he started the car. I figured he wanted to get the air conditioning going, which I thought sweet and husbandly.

Then I heard the music. Stevie Wonder's voice rang out from the car stereo:

Over time, I've been building my castle of love
Just for two, though you never knew you were my reason
I've gone much too far for you now to say
That I’ve got to throw my castle away

My husband took me in his arms and asked, Do you remember when you said if we ever got married, this is the song we should dance to?

I shook my head, speechless, and he spun me in a circle. We waltzed in an empty parking lot on that hot August morning, tears streaming down our cheeks.

And though you don’t believe that they do
They do come true
For did my dreams
Come true when I looked at you
And maybe too if you would believe
You too might be
Overjoyed, over loved, over me

Oh, William. I should have waited for you. I should never have married or spent any time at all with anyone else.

We pressed our foreheads together and circled around and around.

I'm so glad you found me, I said.

I'm so glad you found me, he said.

Overjoyed.

AN EVEN HOTTER DAY IN AUGUST (Part 3)

We awoke early the next morning. After the fractured mood of the night before, William compensated by acting wide awake. We showered, drank coffee and dressed in our summery wedding outfits.

We slipped into his aqua-colored Altima, cranked up the A/C and smiled at each other on our way to the green-glass high-rise near the Los Angeles airport. The flowers, tied together with an ivory ribbon, lay across my lap.

We cleared security on the main floor. My bouquet rode alone in a gray plastic carrier through the courthouse's X-ray machine. We floated up in an elevator to the civil ceremonies department. After securing our marriage license, we had a forty-five minute wait.

We went downstairs to the courthouse's cafeteria. A few lawyerly types lined up for coffee and bagels. The entire building had a clinical newness without a strand of romance. Certainly not in the weary eyes of the professionals around us, or even in the licensing area where others lined up to marry.

When our names were called back upstairs, we could as easily have been at the dentist's office or the DMV — until we stepped into a paneled room and met a plump, short gentleman who introduced himself as our judge. At one end of the room stood a wooden white arch with fabric and plastic flowers entwined in its lattice. The judge wore a generous smile and steered us under this makeshift wedding bower.

The three of us faced each other and pretended we were in a lush garden landscape and not several stories high in a large glass building near the airport.

We are gathered here together, the judge intoned, then chuckled at this most minimal of gatherings.

Do you, William...?

Do you, Mel...?

The history of these ancient vows, these words that had traversed eons to become ours on this Friday in August of 2003, had us holding hands as we blinked back tears.

The judge had the demeanor of a sentimental Spencer Tracy as he gently guided us through the ceremony. Okay, Mel, look at your husband. Good. Okay, William, kiss your bride. Good.

William and I stayed locked in each other's eyes through the entire ceremony.

Afterward our kindly judge insisted on taking pictures of us with our camera. He took extra shots. You can never have too many of this day.

Officially married and abuzz with excitement, we entered the elevator on our way out. Two floors down the doors opened and an old man shuffled on with us. He gave us a once-over and zeroed in on me.

You a bride?

Well, yes...we just got married. I held up my flowers as proof.

He turned to William.

You're a lucky man.

I know, William said.

The elevator stopped at his floor. I wish you all the best in the world, he said as he shuffled off.

William turned to me as the doors closed.

Well, that was our reception.

AN EVEN HOTTER DAY IN AUGUST (Part 2)

Can I wear shorts?

To say I lost it would be an understatement.

It's our wedding. What's wrong with you? Shorts?

I just don't get the big rush.

Fine, forget it.

It just seems all of a sudden.

I didn't dare tell him that I already had a bouquet waiting in the refrigerator.

Or that, one day last June, I'd picked up a white Indian-cotton just-in-case-he-asks dress.

Or that I'd already selected his outfit, having pressed a linen shirt and khakis of his.

Or that I'd made a dinner reservation for the next night at a restaurant overlooking the Santa Monica Bay.

Or that a bottle of champagne lay in the fridge next to the flowers.

No problem, William. Let's just dump the whole idea. We could both be covered on your medical insurance and I could get that new crown I need on my molar, but forget it. My teeth can all fall out. Who needs teeth? It's obvious you're having second thoughts—

Okay, okay, William whispered. He put his hand on my shoulder as I stifled sobs.

I pulled away.

Look, I'm just getting my head around the tomorrow-all-of-a-sudden thing, but by the time we wake up in the morning, I'll be with you one hundred percent.

I flashed back to our first year of dating. Four months into our relationship, William quipped, "Do you think you love me?"

And I'd slipped up. "Yeah, I do."

But he didn't respond in kind and I kicked myself.

Six months in, the phrase "I love you" still had not been uttered by either of us.

Eight months in, he said, "I know I haven't said the L-word yet, but once I do, I'll never stop."

What a weirdo, I thought.

Nine months in, I picked him up at the airport after he had taken a weekend trip. That night, he took my hands and said, "When the plane was taking off, I thought, What if something horrible happened and I hadn't told you my real feelings? And then I couldn't wait to get back here and say I love you, Mel. I really love you."

The benefits of being with a careful shopper suddenly made perfect sense.

And so, as the two of us and the dog made our way home on that Thursday night in August, I knew what William was telling me was true. If he said he'd on board in the morning, he meant it.

Still, my sleep would be uneasy. I'd have to see it to believe it.

Before going to bed, I checked on the flowers in the fridge. They were still fresh and waiting.