Daughter of Manhattan
Her friends rely on her to fix their problems. It’s time for her to tackle her own pink rink.
Jenny Esposito is assigned by her best-friend-forever, Tessa, the task of patching up the relationship between Tessa and her dismissed billionaire boyfriend. The best route to the boyfriend appears to be through his right-hand woman, Gwen, who’s rumored to be a vampire though Jenny’s own enquiries suggest she’s more likely a Manchurian princess. As Jenny’s involvement with Gwen deepens, she struggles with the Barry Manilow Even Now conundrum: whether it’s possible to commit to someone else if you’re in love with your bff. Luckily, Rita the parrot is available to provide moral and hairdressing support as well as expertise in high-end Manhattan real estate.
“Hello Gwen. Hello Gwen’s friend.”
A brilliantly colored parrot standing on a bird stand is talking to me.
“Hi, Rita. This is Jenny,” says Gwen.
“Jenny Esposito,” I murmur.
“Jennifer Michelle Esposito, the writer,” expands Gwen.
“Hello Jennifer Michelle Esposito, the writer,” says Rita. “I read your book. It’s great.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“It’s a piano and a piano bench,” Tessa said. “I’m learning to play the piano.” She sat on her piano bench. “This is where I sit.”
She moved her bench and sat down again. “This can be your place on my bench.”
I sat down next to Tessa, in my place.
“I’ve just learned to play Minuet in G,” she said.
She put her hands on her piano and played the piece. I sat next to her, happy to have a best friend to sit next to.
Dad holds up two huge Yukon Gold potatoes, one in each hand. “Everything’s better with oven-baked fries.”
“Are you a great-great-grand niece of Puyi, the last Qing emperor?” I ask.
Gwen thinks for a moment, then counts on her fingers, murmuring softly in an alien tongue. She’s pretty when she’s concentrating. More than pretty. Beautiful, in a Manchurian princess sort of way. Eventually, she answers, “No.”
We place a candle on the floor of our bedroom and light it. I stand behind Gwen, put my right hand on her right shoulder and say, “I will follow you.” She walks and I follow. three times round the flame. We stop, I drop my hand, we turn around. She puts her right hand on my right shoulder and says, “I will follow you.” We walk, three more rounds in the opposite direction. And then we stop, hold hands, and walk one last time around, together side by side. Promises, witnessed by no gods or humans, made privately to each other.
The Songs of Daughter of Manhattan
Kat wanted to let everyone visiting this page to know that The Retrogrades are available to perform at Bat Mitvahs and other events in New York. However, since both Kat and The Retrogrades are fictional, you’ll have to look elsewhere for your live music needs. On this page I've provided links to renditions of some of the songs mentioned in the book.
It’s Tessa’s turn to choose the first song. “Whitney.”
“No, Tessaroo.” I sigh.
“No, Tess, it will just upset you,” pleads Kat.
“Rachel wants to do Whitney,” says Tessa, unyielding. “We always do Whitney, for Rachel.”
Rachel does love the chance to stretch her voice, and we do always include the Whitney Houston song from The Bodyguard in Karaoke night.
Not-Barry is still singing when I get back, wrapping up Weekend in New England. He looks at me, straight into my soul, and sings Even Now, stirring the pain inside me that he tells me in song will go on and on.
It’s chicken time. Rachel hands round the paper plates and napkins the Korean wing place has thoughtfully provided, Tessa doles out the chicken wings and I pass around the fries. Kat pours us Coca Cola from the jug we’ve ordered from the lounge and then picks up the microphone. We eat as she connects her iPhone to the karaoke system and plays the original Coca Cola Hilltop Commercial. She sings about how she’d like to build the world a home which she’ll furnish with love, and grow wonderful food-producing flora and fauna, and how she’d like to teach the world to sing in harmony, and how she’d like to buy the world a Coke, because it’s the real thing.
Tessa’s returned to us. Rachel rumbles out Louis Armstrong in Hello Dolly, telling her how good it is to have her back where she belongs. Kat and I chorus the reprise. Tessa, whose phenomenal musical memory includes dance steps, speaks, sings and dances Dolly’s responses through the song.
Looking at Gwen, I sing John Denver, Annie’s Song, and tell her how she fills up my senses.
Looking at Gwen, I sing Nana Mouskouri, Time in a Bottle, and tell her about how my box of wishes and dreams that could never come true is empty except for the memory of how she has answered them all.
Looking at Gwen, I sing Judy Collins, Both Sides Now. It’s really Joni Mitchell’s song but I like Judy Collins’ rendering better. At the beginning of the second verse Gwen, reading ahead as the lyrics come up on the screen and instantly grasping why I chose the song, laughs and joins me, and we sing to each other, telling our friends (our friends) how proud we feel to be able to say ‘I love you’ to each other, right out loud.
PHOTO CREDITS
Some photographs on this page were downloaded from Unsplash at the following links:
parrot - Christopher Alvarenga
French fries - Somia Lone
young girl at piano - morefun_boy
chinese fan - Tao Su
candle - Kyle
girl group - Levi Guzman