My flight landed in the early afternoon, and to my relief, Xiaowen was already waiting for me in the international arrivals area, holding a sign with my name on it. He helped me load my baggage into the trunk of the black Audi and we departed for Beijing.
My apartment complex was in the Sanlitun District, where most of Beijing’s expats lived. Seeing us approaching from the other side of the street, the guard nodded to Xiaowen and raised the gate for us. The sprawling compound had five or six high-rise apartment buildings, tennis courts, a gym, even its own grocery store and restaurant. Xiaowen brought me to the welcome center, where the cheery young receptionist explained the amenities of the complex and how to use them. There were group exercise classes in the quad every morning as well as wine/coffee classes in the restaurant and book clubs in the clubhouse. I was in Building C on the fourteenth floor, apartment 1415. I could access my unit and all the shared facilities using my key card, which reminded me of college. The receptionist had me look into a webcam that was sitting on her counter to take an ID picture for their database. All entrances and common areas, she explained, were continuously monitored by security cameras that used facial-recognition technology to identify nonresidents.
Xiaowen drove me to Building C and we took the elevator up to the fourteenth floor. I tapped my key card against the digital lock and pushed open the door. The place was a bit smaller than my loft in SF, a tight 600, maybe 650 square feet, but had high ceilings and large windows that let in a lot of light. It was a park-facing unit, which meant you couldn’t see the city through the windows, just the self-contained common areas of the complex. In the bathroom, body lotion, shampoo, and conditioner were all prefilled in the shower bottles. I did a walk-through and took stock of the furniture, which was nice enough, though obviously mass-produced and had that generic, faux-Scandinavian look that made me think of a WeWork. I felt a sharp pang in my chest remembering the antique redwood table I had left behind in San Francisco, which was now just gathering dust in Chinatown; it had taken me forever to find, why hadn’t I arranged to have it sent over? Or my La Marzocco espresso machine, or the collection of Bearbrick figurines I had spent months collecting? There was a letter written on Terra Cotta Capital stationery on the desk in my bedroom explaining that the firm was pleased to offer me the use of this unit indefinitely and gratis as long as I was employed with them.
I circled back to the living room, sunk into the couch, and noticed that Xiaowen had left. Gradually, a small sense of relief and even excitement began to stretch inside me. Though the aparthotel was not at all my design sensibility, there was enough empty space to imagine it as a canvas for a fresh start. I imagined filling the space with the life that Vivian and I would build together, the slow accumulation of small things: toothbrushes on the sink, magazines on the coffee table, flowers in vases, jars in the pantry. I was filled with the sudden imperative to prepare this place for her, for our reunion later today. I put on a clean shirt and headed out toward Sanlitun Road.
Taikoo Li Sanlitun was filled with attractive, carefree people wandering the shops who had no work to accomplish during the day. My first order of business was to make myself presentable for Vivian, so I dropped into a salon and got a haircut. Next I spent a few hours at the mall buying new clothes, picking up several new shirts, sneakers, and a few pairs of chinos.
Afterward, I went to a Western supermarket in the subterranean level of Taikoo Li Sanlitun and bought some things that I thought we might need: toothbrushes, wine, towels, candles, coffee beans, cooking oil, fresh vegetables, pastries, pasta, filet mignon. I looked forward to preparing our first meal together that evening, the two of us working in the kitchen together each with a glass of wine in hand. My last stop was at a florist just off the main Sanlitun Road. I bought a bouquet of hyacinths, poppies, chrysanthemums, and daffodils, as well as a vase to put them in.
Over the next two hours, I leisurely put everything in its right place. I showered, put on my new clothes, sunk the flowers in the vase, and lit the candle. I’m not sure why, in the end, I was surprised that her call never came.