At Long Last, The Heaven Reunion Part 3

That Sunday afternoon over a month ago, I sat eating Thai food in Ginza, with Jade, Mari and Isabelle.  We chatted away like four women who hadn`t been reunited since our club closed down, some two years earlier.

There was plenty of fodder for small talk: I was getting married in just weeks and Jade was going to be my maid of honor.  We were already packing for New York.  Isabelle, like me, had retired from hostessing and settled for a more stable though far less exciting day job in a Japanese company.  Mari had been out of the night work scene for a year, during which time she`d established an mini-empire which may or may not involve the abundant import and export of Hello Kitty merchandise. 

Ginza Mamas are certainly the resourceful types, even when they are not Ginza Mamas anymore.  It may as well have been written on Mari`s face, which appeared softer and more gentle than its ever been, that she was no longer a night worker.  I far preferred the present countenance to the tight, suspicious and all-knowing expression that`s required of any Ginza Mama.

I was contemplating as much when, without warning, the conversation veered out of control, toward my least favorite topic in all the world.

"How`s your book coming along?" Isabelle asked me, right in front of Mari. 

Crash.

"Umm...ah...Book?"  To lessen the impact, I harnessed an old skill that I picked up long ago on the hostess circuit: feigning complete retardation. "Who told you about a book?"  I asked her, wide-eyed and dumb.

Isabelle nodded toward Jade.  I turned to Jade as well, glaring, panicked.  Jade  elbowed me under the table, hard, a silent reminder that acting retarded will only work on men.

"It`s not that big of a deal," Jade raised her eyebrows and said through her teeth.

"Fine," I glared back. 

After some awkward pauses I somehow managed to take my book out of hiding and pass it around the table.

My fears were unmerited. Isabelle and Mari seemed honestly and genuinely proud of me, for getting my memoir published.  And they were impressed.  Hostesses, after all, are not usually the type to get off their pampered asses and write a book about all the crazy shit they`ve seen in this city after dark.  (If they did, though, memoirs in general would be a lot more interesting.)

Well, they haven`t read it yet. I noted to myself, qualifying.

"So who`s in your memoir?" Isabelle asked. 

"Everyone!" Exclaimed Jade.  For no sane reason, I wanted to kill my best friend just then.

"There were definitely enough crazy happenings at our bar to write a book," someone added. 

"But only a fraction of them made it into the memoir," I qualified. "It would have been like 1000 pages if I`d included everything."

"Remember when you used to get so drunk and shout how much you loved me?"  Mari asked, putting the past in perspective and laughing.

"Well I`m not drunk anymore," I responded "so I don`t have the confidence to scream..." 

"GOOD!"  Interrupted Jade.

"Shut up!" I snapped affectionately, turning my attention back to Mari. 

"But I do still love you." 

Comments

[VicariousRising]

I've been meaning to tell you that I really loved your book. I actually saw the Entertainment Weekly review the Friday before the book was released, and I was so excited for you. They are very tough reviewers at that mag.

Anyway, I'm not just writing this to be a groupie goober, but I thought your memoir was honest, brave, funny and interesting. It's earned a space on my keeper shelf (which happens to be a brand new built in bookshelf in my office, therefore a very special space).

Congratulations, Lea.