Robert sprang out of his chair and began pacing again. He just couldn’t stay still. What should he do? Up until that moment, he’d thought the best thing was to let Marissa wear herself out with this wild-goose chase. Australia was one thing, but Hong Kong!

“Why did I ever marry?” Robert asked himself, reverting back to a verbal dialogue with himself. “Oh, for those good old bachelor days when my worst worries were getting my shirts from the laundry.” He stopped his pacing. “Hell,” he snapped. “I still have to get my shirts from the laundry.” He tried to think of what marriage had brought him, and at that moment he couldn’t think of anything.

“What am I going to do?” he wondered. “What should I do? What can I do?” he said aloud. Deep down, more than anything, Robert simply wanted his wife back. If she wouldn’t come willingly, maybe it was time to go get her.

Robert stopped his pacing and stared out the window. He had another thought. What if she wasn’t in Hong Kong? What if she’d been lying or was being sarcastic? Then he remembered the call had been collect. Sitting down in his desk chair, Robert dialed the phone company. After a minor hassle, he got the calling number. It was a Hong Kong number. He dialed it, hoping to find out the name of the hotel or wherever it was she was staying. When the phone was picked up he had his answer: the Peninsula Hotel, the same hotel that he’d stayed in the two times he’d been to Hong Kong on business.

Robert disconnected but kept the receiver in his hand. One thing was clear: he could not sit idly by forever and allow Marissa to chase around the world as she pleased. He had to put his foot down and stop this craziness, especially thinking how much it was undoubtedly costing.

On an impulse Robert called the airlines to find out about direct service from Boston to Hong Kong.

When he was finished with the airlines he called his office and had his call put through to Donna.

“Donna, I might not come in today,” Robert said.

“All right,” Donna said. “Anything special you want me to do?”

“Just be sure to get those letters out that I dictated last night,” Robert said. “And one other thing. I don’t think I’ll be able to make dinner tonight after all.”

“Now that’s too bad. Why not?”

Willy Tong knocked on the door of the two-story house on the corner of Eucalyptus and Jacaranda streets in Charleville. A dog barked inside the house, but Willy wasn’t worried. He could tell it was one of those little lapdogs, probably a Yorkie. From inside, someone flipped on a porch light. It was one of those big bowl fixtures like an opaque goldfish bowl. Finally the hardware clicked and the door swung inward.