Jess Mariano's Daughter

Truncheon Books

"Here we are," Rory states letting me in.

"Casa Rory," I say, looking around the room.

Definitely looks like a grandma decorated it. I see her pick up a pillow from the bed.

"So our voices don't carry," she says, putting the pillow under the door."

"Very prudent," I say.

"This is not really my taste," she replies.

"Yeah, not unless you've aged about 90 years."

"I haven't."

"Is that for Halloween?" I ask, pointing at the dress behind her.

"No, no. This is just for a function I have to go to."

"Function?"

"It's just a job. The D.A.R. Daughters of the American Revolution. It's not a career or anything."

"I hope not."

"No. See, don't get the wrong idea. I'm just here temporarily. My mom and I-"

"Luke alluded to something."

"It's a long story. I was crashing in the pool house, and that was just temporary, but the pool house became storage, so then I had to move into the main house. All temporary."

"Isn't school in session?"

"Mm-hmh."

"Why aren't you living on campus?"

"Because I'm not going."

"You graduate already, Doogie?" I ask.

"No. I'm just taking a little time off."

"Time off," I echo.

"So, where are you living, Jess? I wanna know about you- mystery man. How's the baby?"

"We're in Philly."

"Really?"

"Don't laugh."

"No, I'm not. Philadelphia's gotten cool."

"Yeah, and New York's gotten expensive. Especially with a baby. Anyway, it's a pretty cool scene in Philly now. Lot of younger people there... pretty big art scene."

"I know. I read that in the New York Times. They had a picture of a bunch of young people standing on a roof. Kind of eclectic and all. It looked fun. I mean it was clearly one of those pictures that wasn't candid. It was looking a little stiff, but they looked happy."

She's rambling.

"Are you nervous?"

"A little. It's been a long time."

"I'm a little nervous too," I tell her.

"Good, I'm not alone,"

"So, I didn't just come here to chat. I wanted to show you something."

"Right. You said that."

"And I didn't think you'd believe it if I didn't show you in person."

"Well, color me curious. A book."

She looks at and reads the front cover out loud.

"The Subsect... written by Jess Mariano."

"It's no misprint," I inform her.

"You wrote a book?"

"A short novel."

"You wrote a book!?"

"And through a fluke, I got it to these guys that have a small press, and they read it. I don't know if they were high or something, but they decided to publish it."

"You wrote a book," she repeats again.

"There's no money in it. They only printed like 500 of them. Believe me, I'm not quitting my day job."

"But you wrote it. You wrote a book."

"Yeah, I know. It's hard to believe."

"You sat down and wrote a novel."

"Author-distributed, too. That's what I'm doing here. I'm going around begging independent bookstores to put it in stock. Got it in a few."

"Cool! Where?" she asks.

"Around."

"I wanna see it in a store."

"I can give you the addresses.

"You know what I'm gonna do when I see it in the store?"

"What?"

"You know that section toward the front, the staff recommendations? I'm gonna grab a copy of your book and put it in that section, and then I'm going to write my own little recommendation on a card and attach it so people see it and buy it," she says, making me laugh.

"Read it first. That way you can discourage people from buying it."

"No way! I know it's good. Jess, you've got such a great brain. I knew that id you could just sit down and stop shaking it around, you could do something like this. I knew it. I knew it."

"I know you did. I work at that press now. Five smelly guys and a baby in a cramped room on Locust Street putting out about three books a month-- but it's fun. Lor has her own desk next to mine where she colors and plays."

"What about a sequel? Are you writing a sequel?"

"You should read it before you get too jazzed about it. Okay?"

"Tell me more about Lory."

"Well, she's 18 months now, which means she can walk, and that means she's everywhere. She loves coloring and being read to. I think she's definitely going to be a book lover like me, like you. She looks just like me," I tell her.