Travails of a Trailing Spouse Read online

  The woman didn’t respond, just shrugged her shoulders and continued to blink her long-lashed eyes. After coming to the conclusion that nothing could be done, the two women walked out of the office, introducing themselves to each other as they waited for the lift. The woman’s name was Ashley Sanders; she was from Atlanta and she had arrived in Singapore about six months ago, giving birth here to her son, Lucas, who was now four months old.

  Seeing as how their respective sons had been awakened by the noise, Ashley invited Sarah to bring Eric up to her apartment, which was on the 19th floor, at least a bit further from the jackhammering unit than Sarah’s. “I’ll leave the door unlocked, just come on in,” she said, hospitably. A few minutes later, Sarah did just so, giving a light knock as she opened Ashley’s front door, and proceeded to walk into a freezer.

  “My self is cold!” little Eric said, cutely, but loudly. Sarah gave his upper arms a rub to create some heat.

  “I absolutely detest the heat here!” Ashley called out, walking out from the bedroom holding a little blond boy, explaining that she kept all her air-conditioning units set at 18 degrees. She introduced the baby as Lucas, giving him a tap on the nose.

  Sarah introduced Eric, who spotted a trunk of toys in the corner of the dining room and made a beeline over to it.

  “Wow, is your utility bill monstrous?” Sarah asked.

  “Well, Chad’s company takes care of that, so I just don’t worry about it!” Ashley responded lightly.

  “Ah, I see,” Sarah said. “Next time I’ll remember to bring a sweater,” she joked.

  Before moving to Singapore, Sarah had braced herself for the unbearable heat of the tropics; she had even warned Jason that he would have to give her a period of time – like six months – during which she would be permitted to be “very cranky” due to the heat. As it turned out, she surprised even herself; by the second month, she was keeping the air-conditioning off, opting instead to open wide all of their sliding doors, of which there were many, creating a cross wind through the rooms that was actually quite pleasant.

  Stepping into Ashley’s unit was like stepping into a page out of Southern Living magazine; it appeared that the Sanderses had transported the entire contents of their Atlanta home to Singapore, from the thick area rugs down to the custom curtains (Sarah had just accepted the ones her landlord had provided, even though they were a rather unattractive shade of goldish-taupe). Ashley even had throw blankets draped neatly across the back of the couch, Sarah noticed.

  Sarah complimented Ashley on the décor, to which Ashley responded graciously, “Thank you, when we decided to move here, I figured I might as well just bring everything, try to recreate home, you know? Snickerdoodle?” she asked, holding out a large jar full of the cinnamon sugar cookies.

  Sarah gladly took two, passing one to little Eric, who started munching on it happily.

  “Shall I give you the tour?” Ashley asked.

  Sarah laughed, not sure if Ashley was joking – it was common in the US for friends to say this when visiting their homes for the first time, but the home in question usually involved a minimum of two floors, a few bathrooms, a backyard, and maybe an attic or a basement. To the few guests whom the Lees had entertained so far at their 1,600 sq ft condo unit in Singapore, Sarah usually just waved her hand and said, “Feel free to take a look around.”

  Now, realising Ashley was serious, she gamely obliged, following Ashley to the nursery, where the shades were completely drawn, making the room feel even colder than the rest of the unit, if that were even possible. They moved on to the master bedroom, the centrepiece of the room being a high bedframe, four-poster king-size bed, to which Sarah commented, “Great bed, was it hard to move in?”

  “Yeah, and do you know what? Can you believe we actually had to pay our landlord to move it in?” Ashley said. She went on to elaborate that the unit had been offered “furnished”, containing two queen beds, a dining set and a couch, all of which the Sanderses had not needed as they were shipping all of their own furniture over, courtesy of Chad’s company, a large oil and gas conglomerate. The landlord had not wanted to take a loss on the brand-new furniture he had just bought, so he had given them the option of either paying $50 a month for a storage unit to store the goods, or covering the loss that he would incur if he were to sell everything second-hand. The Sanderses had chosen the second option, and ended up forking over $1,500 for the privilege of being able to move in their own furniture. Sarah’s eyes widened at the amount.

  “Yikes, welcome to Singapore, I guess, huh?” Sarah said. She had heard that the rental market here was very landlord-friendly, but this was her first time actually hearing a first-hand account.

  The two women chatted amiably for about half an hour and exchanged contact information, making plans to meet again together with the other women and children in the condo. As she and Eric were leaving, Sarah mentioned that her cousin was in town and asked if Ashley had any recommendations on where to take visitors, to which Ashley suggested Club Street, which was apparently a cool area of restaurants and bars that Chad frequented.

  As it turned out, Sarah’s cousin had dated a Singaporean woman for some time a few years ago and had visited the city-state multiple times before, so when he arrived, he already had his own list of places he wanted to visit, one being the newly-opened Gardens by the Bay, an awe-inspiring park built on reclaimed land. The centre of the park was marked by a grove of 15-storey tall “Supertrees”, steel structures shaped like trees that had flowers and greenery climbing up their framework.

  Supposedly, the park supported environmental sustainability, although Sarah had her doubts when she saw the size of the two greenhouses, each over 35 metres tall and fully air-conditioned. The Gardens had cost over S$1 billion to build; to Sarah, it embodied Singapore perfectly: modern, shiny and impressive, built with a big pile of money. It was a classic manifestation of a Napoleon complex: a tiny country less than a quarter of the size of Rhode Island, the smallest state in the US, trying to make its mark on the world.

  Twice every evening, the Gardens put on a free music and lights show, which featured tiny coloured bulbs on every Supertree lighting up in rhythm to futuristic, instrumental music. Lying on her back in the middle of the Supertree Grove during the show, Sarah felt as if she had landed on Pandora, the fictitious moon from the movie Avatar. It was thoroughly excessive, but wonderfully spectacular at the same time.

  chapter 4

  THE OTHER SARA

  LATER IN THE month, the Lees were invited to a birthday party held at the condo barbecue area next to the pool. The mother, a friendly Australian woman whom Sarah had met at the playgroup and was now seven months pregnant with her second child, had messaged Sarah a few days before the party asking for her children’s names and ages; it was a pleasant surprise to discover that the mother had prepared age-appropriate presents for each child in attendance to be opened during Pass the Parcel, a game that Sarah was unfamiliar with, but was apparently very popular in many countries outside the US.

  Carys and her husband, Ian, were also there, as well as a few other mothers and children Sarah knew from the condo playgroup, although she noted that Ashley wasn’t present. Jason and Ian shook hands and exchanged hellos. Ian was quite a looker, Sarah observed; he had short cropped hair and twinkling, deep blue eyes – a comparison to Brad Pitt would not be over-reaching. Sarah smiled to herself in mild amusement as she knew she and Jason would be sure to discuss “Yi-An’s” handsomeness later.

  Sarah was splashing with Eric in the baby pool when she noticed a petite Asian woman with a tall Caucasian man coming out of the main pool holding a baby and an older boy, who looked to be about Ruby’s age. They also lived in the building and one of the other party guests happened to work at the same company with the man, so introductions were made all around.

  “Hi, I’m Sarah,” Sarah said, giving a wave. She admired the boldness of the woman to wear a two-piece swimsuit, as she had visible stitches from a recen
t C-section, no doubt for the baby that she was holding. Sarah recognised from her stooped shoulders and bags under her eyes that she was wearing it not in a “Check me out, I can still pull off a bikini” way, but in a “This is the only swimsuit I own” way.

  “I’m Sara, too!” the other Sara said. “Sara Hendrick,” she clarified, waving back.

  “Sarah Lee,” Sarah said. “With an H, and I wasn’t a Lee until I married my husband,” she said, to explain, as she usually had to, the coincidence of her name matching the popular baked goods brand.

  “Oh, ha!” the other woman responded cheerily. “I’m Sara without an H, but am also Sara H., so I often have to explain my name, too!” Going forward, they would be known to friends as Sarah-with-an-H and Sara-without-an-H, or by their full names.

  John Hendrick, Sara’s husband, was dark-haired and very tall, almost two heads taller than his wife. They were from Denver; he was a marketing manager at a large software company and had been in Singapore for over a month already. Sara had stayed back in the US with their sons, Ethan, age three, and the baby, Jakey, who was only four months old; they had just arrived five days ago. John had set them up first, renting their apartment and choosing Ethan’s preschool without Sara’s input.

  Sara-without-an-H’s parents were from Shanghai, though she didn’t speak Chinese, having been born and raised in Colorado. She had freckles like Sarah, and tiny crow’s feet at the edges of her eyes, revealing her age that otherwise would have been concealed by her light, cheery smile. Jason wandered over, introducing himself and Ruby, who immediately started playing with the Hendricks’ little boy, Ethan – sometimes kids were just easy like that.

  “So, how are you settling in?” Sarah asked the other Sara as the men broke off on their own. The Lees had only been there a few months, but in expat terms, this was considered a long enough time to be able to give advice to new arrivals.

  “Pretty good,” Sara said. “We’re still jet-lagged and living out of boxes, and John is going to be gone all next week, but I think we’ll be OK. We’re going to interview helpers together tomorrow, I think,” she continued, tone rising at the end, like it was question. She mentioned being shocked at how expensive groceries were here and Sarah offered to show her where the local supermarket was, an invitation that Sara accepted gratefully.

  The following week, after finding Sara standing outside the lobby, Jakey strapped to her chest in a baby carrier and Ethan in a stroller, looking confused about which direction to go, Sarah quickly took the other woman under her wing, happy to show her the ropes.

  She took Sara to Ikea, even though she had vowed never to go again after having gone four times in one week (twice in one day, even); she was much more efficient the fifth time around, assisting the other woman in making a comprehensive list first, and then knowing where to cut through the time-wasting showrooms so they could go straight to the market hall. John had left without setting up his wife’s bank account access, so when Sara found herself completely out of money by midweek and unable to take out more, Sarah passed her a handful of cash without any questions.

  By the end of the week, it was a common scene for Jason to find Sara-without-an-H sitting in their living room when he came home from work in the evening, chatting with his wife, and all the kids running around together. It was easy enough to ask Patricia to make a little more of whatever she was cooking for that night’s dinner. Ethan, at three years old, slotted in perfectly between Ruby and Eric, content to listen to Ruby’s directions, but also older and cool enough that Eric wanted to follow him around as well. After dinner, the three older kids would scurry into the bedroom and close the door, lost in an adventure world that Ruby would create for them, leaving the three adults to pass around baby Jakey.

  Sarah was enjoying the distraction, too. Being home with Eric all day was starting to take its toll on her; he was a precocious talker, her second child, incessantly chattering all day long, asking questions about this and that in an endless game of 20 questions. One day, Sarah had started writing down everything that he said, intending to document “A Day in the Life of Eric”, only to stop after five minutes as she had already logged over 200 words.

  She didn’t have the excuses of needing to cook dinner or do laundry to be able to sit him down in front of the television and ignore him for half an hour; she found herself in the peculiar predicament of being the centre of his attention and he hers, all day, every day. When Sara appeared on the scene, it gave her something else to focus on, for which she was grateful.

  In a matter of weeks, the two Sara/hs became a package deal; they had a look and demeanour similar enough that on more than one occasion, strangers, upon meeting them together, would ask, “Are you two sisters?”, realising a second too late that they had both introduced themselves as Sara/h.

  Of course, there were differences, too. Sara had been a project manager at a telecom company, meeting John on the job, where she actually had been his supervisor at one point. Later, he moved to the software company he was now at and his career took off; they had Ethan, and Sara’s career quickly took a backseat to his, as often happened in these situations.

  She told Sarah she normally bought organic food and cleansers made from natural ingredients, something Sarah rolled her eyes at, although the other Sara would say later she was really conflicted after seeing how much these premium items cost in Singapore.

  She was also amazingly optimistic, always with a smile on her face even as she would answer, “I’m running on fumes,” when Sarah asked how she was doing. Sarah, on the other hand, was a natural pessimist and had to often force herself to see the bright side of things. Being in Sara’s situation – trying to get settled in a new country with a baby and a toddler, on her own, while her husband was gone for weeks at a time, without any cash to boot – yet still smiling, was something Sarah could only imagine.

  Things got easier for Sara, of course. She and John hired a helper, although the first couple of rounds of interviews were unsuccessful, Sara reported, as most of the prospective candidates kept staring at John, gaping at his height. She ended up going back on her own while Ethan was at school, bringing Jakey in the carrier, finally hiring a short, older woman named Aileen who had worked for over eight years for a Singaporean family.

  One Saturday night, when John was in town, the six of them – the two Sara/hs, Carys, and their husbands – went for drinks on Manchester Park, a one-way, mostly pedestrian street lined with converted black-and-whites, holdovers from the British colonial period, that started from their condo building and extended about 500 metres up to an open carpark. Large ceiling fans spun lazily above them in the al fresco bar of the restaurant they had chosen, a German biergarten located about midway up the street.

  “Isn’t Singapore just amazing?” John mused.

  Sarah couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. “Are you serious?” she asked, uncertainly.

  “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” John answered. “I mean, look at us, all here, together, making a life for ourselves.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” Jason agreed. “A really good offer for a guy like me,” he said, using the self-deprecating line borrowed from the movie Pretty Woman that he loved.

  “Hey, I’m not complaining,” Ian jumped in, eyes twinkling. “Moving to Singapore, a stone’s throw away to hundreds of incredible places to visit, all in the name of the hotel business,” he said.

  “And the greenery here is a nice change from the desert of Dubai,” Carys threw in. “And to be able to drink at home!”

  “You can’t drink at home in Dubai?” Sarah was shocked. She knew the UAE was a predominantly Muslim country, but she had not known that personal alcohol use was restricted.

  “Yes, I had a fellow teacher friend who was deported for being drunk in his own house,” Carys said, and proceeded to tell them the story of her friend, an Indian national on a work visa in Dubai.

  A group of unmarried men and women had been hanging out on a Sunday at his ho
use; they were aware of the law that an alcohol licence was required, but had heard that it was very rarely enforced. For whatever reason, a police car happened to drive by and the cops spotted them, through the window, drinking alcohol, and arrested all of them. Somehow, the others were able to get off, but her friend was given the choice of six months in jail or deportation. There was probably more to the story, but in any event, “Singapore beats Dubai any day of the week with respect to drinking, even coming in a little cheaper,” Carys finished.

  “Wow, that is nuts!” Jason said. They were still getting used to the sky-high prices of alcohol in Singapore, due to a “sin tax” that the government levied on wine and spirits, ranging from $50 to $70 per litre of alcohol content – the beer Jason was sipping on cost $18 for a half-pint. After hearing Carys’s story, Sarah realised that they had a lot to learn about the rest of the world.

  “Well, cheers to that, I guess,” John said, raising his glass briefly and taking a sip of his beer. “Also, thanks for taking care of our Sara here, by the way,” he added, patting his wife’s thigh.

  “No problem, but at the beginning it was tough going there for her, especially when she couldn’t take out cash,” Sarah said.

  “Oh yeah, gotta get that sorted out,” John said. “I have to be there in person, though, and the next weekday I’ll be in Singapore won’t be for another couple weeks.” He turned toward his wife. “Remind me, hon, OK?”

  “Sure, will do,” Sara said, agreeably.

  They got on the topic of how long they were all planning on staying in Singapore. Carys and Ian said they weren’t even thinking about their next move. Although they were both from the UK, they didn’t have a permanent home there. Sarah and Jason told the group they were thinking five or six years, the duration of Jason’s initial research funding package, and before their daughter, Ruby, reached middle school.

  Sara’s response spurred some debate. “Well, John’s given me at least one year,” she said, gesturing towards her husband.