“So, after the concert Tuesday night, Trent says he’s reserved a bungalow at Chateau Marmont instead of heading back to his parents’ house in Pacific Palisades,” Philippa explained breathlessly as she, her brother Chris, and I sat at a table, sipping espresso, in a dark corner of Caffe Erika on the Upper East Side, a few blocks north of The Carlyle Hotel.

“Kind of a seedy place for celebrities,” Chris declared, as if he didn’t know I was from suburban Los Angeles.

“He told Annie right after the last encore. She was all for going until Trent said your mother was coming with them—”

“What? He wanted to do a…a…” I stammered.

“A threesome,” affirmed Philippa. “He actually thought Annie would be more than okay with it.”

“But how would he get that idea? And did my mom know about this?”

“Trent thought Annie would enjoy being the unicorn for them.”

“Is that some kind of cosplay? I remember that song, ‘The Unicorn.’ Alastair had an album by The Irish Rovers that he’d put on for me when I was 4 or 5…”

“No, not unicorn as in mythical creature. Unicorn as in a bisexual participant in a threesome,” Chris told me.

“Because Annie fell like a ton of bricks for him, Trent figured she went both ways. I guess it’s really all Annie’s fault. Unintentionally. You see,” Philippa gulped, looking at her brother. “She had been told that David Wetherell always tries to…um…fool around with his female co-stars. And he likes them young and pretty—”

“Who doesn’t?” Chris laughed.

“Shut up! Anyway, she came to me with this stupid idea that she knew I’d agree to. I have…um…issues with my gender and spending two months in New York living as a woman certainly appeals to me. So, I’m supposed to be Annie’s lesbian lover. She even introduced me to everyone as such on the first day of rehearsal. It did the trick. David’s kept his distance from her—”

“That’s an insane length to go to when you could just say no! How do you know Annie in the first place?”

“She’s Paul Flaherty’s cousin,” Chris explained.

“And who is Paul Flaherty?” I asked.

“He’s one of my suite mates at Stanford,” Philippa practically swallowed.

“He’s cute, I presume.” She stuck her tongue out at me. And I’m allegedly the adolescent here. “You can fill me in later. But did my mother know about Trent planning a menage a trois?”

“Oh no. She didn’t even think there was anything going on between Annie and Trent.”

“It’s just professional. Yeah, that’s what she insisted to me,” I frowned.

“Annie actually went back to Trent’s parents’ house and stayed the night. She took the 10AM flight back the next morning. She’s got steam coming out of her ears.”

“Tomorrow’s going to be quite a spectacle. Poor Mom’s not going to know what hit her when she walks into the studio.” We all took a sip of our espresso and settled into a silent interlude, just staring into the distance in the practically empty café.

“Don’t you have your film class tomorrow?” asked Philippa.

“I’ll try to drop by right after class. Someone’s gotta defend Mom if Annie starts swinging.”

“First of all, Annie’s not a violent person and secondly, it would be Trent she’d be swinging at. If he even shows up.”

“Why? Isn’t he back tomorrow as well?”

“At the last minute, his manager got him a spot on Jimmy Kimmel tomorrow night. He might just stay out West until Monday. He okayed it with Danny. It’s publicity not just for him but the show as well. Advance sales, you know.”

“Oh, Mom, you’re so socially awkward. She’s like a teenager…” I lamented.

“Socially awkward? What about my cross-dressing brother here?” Chris challenged.

“She’s not a cross-dresser. She’s trans,” I corrected Chris.

“She’s a he,” Chris returned service.

“I thought you two had hashed things out. She’s your sister, Chris. How can you belittle her like that?”

“I’m all for her clearing up her gender issues. It’s just I never saw any signs of this when we were growing up. It came out of nowhere. I think he can’t accept the idea he’s just gay. He never did this cross-dressing stuff before she started rooming with Paul—”

“That’s not true. I’m straight. It’s not a question of sexuality. It’s gender. I’m a girl…in here,” Philippa pointed to her temple.

“I think Annie’s pulling a scam on you, on behalf of her cousin, Paul. He’s probably gay too.”

“He dates women. Lots of them!” Philippa angrily replied.

“You’re mixing up sexuality with gender. It’s not necessarily the same thing,” I pointed out to Chris.

“No offense, but what would you know about it?” Chris sniffed. He turned to Philippa. “I’ve a mind to talk to Annie about this and have her leave my brother out of her plan for the universe. She’s just taking advantage of your interest in Paul. And it’s self-interest too. You’re her alleged shield against David Wetherell’s unwanted advances—”

Philippa jumped to her feet, remembered to sling her purse over her shoulder, and took my arm. “Let’s go, Cherry. It’s fruitless trying to talk about this with my brother and I want to make sure Annie hasn’t totally trashed our suite while we’ve been out.”

“Good night…ladies.” Chris laughed.

The moment I stepped back into our suite I sent Mom a text warning her about what was awaiting her the next day at the studio. But she never replied. She probably turned her phone off. Given the three-hour time difference between the coasts, it’s more likely she was in the arms of Trent rather than the arms of Morpheus.

I was still trying to text her when I got off the bus just steps away from the front gates of Columbia, five minutes before my class started. No response. Maybe she just forgot to turn her phone back on?

“Hey, sunshine, you’re cutting it close. I was afraid you weren’t showing up today.” It was Anders. He was just inside the gates, waiting for me.

“Sorry to give you a scare, Anders. I’ve been trying to get in touch with my mother all morning. She’s supposed to be flying back from L.A. today.”

“My mother turns her phone off sometimes and forgets to turn it back on. I’m sure that’s why she’s not answering.”

“I worry about her,” I said as we entered the elevator to go up to the floor where our class was being held.

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? She’s the adult, you’re the child.”

“You don’t know my mother.”

Tony Webster, our instructor, was standing by his desk in the front of the classroom when Anders and I walked in.

“Now that we have our full complement in the room, let’s get started. We only have two hours and we have a lot of stuff to get through. I’m going to combine rollcall with assigning you to your teams. Some of you have already informed me of who you want to team up with…”

I turned to Anders and mouthed, “I forgot to tell him—”

Anders shook his head and mouthed in reply, “I told him when you went to the ladies’ room at lunch Tuesday.”

A pretty blonde girl named Charlotte was assigned to our team. She waved to us from across the classroom. Anders waved back. I just nodded. I don’t know why but I had a bad feeling about this.

The first hour of class was spent with Tony going over the equipment each team would be issued:

• Canon XL2 - mini-DV camera with the ability to shoot 24p, the frame rate for movie film.
• Bolle - Heavy duty tripod with fluid head for smoother tilts and pans.
• Lowell 7 lighting kit - large light kit.
• Scheduled time on school editing equipment: Apple G5 Computer with DV/Mini-DV deck. Final Cut Pro 4 Editing Software, Final Draft
Software.

In the second hour, Tony spoke to us about the basics of shot composition.

“Film composition refers to the way the elements of a shot are arranged and captured, as well as their relationship to each other. Using cinematography techniques, filmmakers alter a shot’s framing, camera movements, depth of field, and depth of space to create an aesthetic and to imply meaning.

It’s all about asking yourself, does my image have all the right ingredients? And are they in the right place? How the visual elements are arranged in a frame will determine how the audience feels when watching your film. Understanding composition is often the difference between shooting a visually boring film and one that is cinematically exciting. So it’s worth mastering.”

Tony projected the image of a mountain biker onto the screen behind him.

“One of the cardinal rules in shot composition is the Rule of Thirds. Mentally divide your image horizontally and vertically into thirds and position the most important parts of your shot along those imaginary lines. For example, in this shot I've put the mountain biker on the lower right hand horizontal line and this makes the shot more aesthetically pleasing than if he was simply in the center of the frame.”

One good thing about having Charlotte on our team was she took copious notes on her laptop. I wonder which particular skill set she possesses. I know Anders has a lot of experience with video cameras. He was in the film club at Mirage Canyon. I think I’m a pretty decent writer. Hopefully, Charlotte knows her way around a Mac computer. She can be our crack film editor.

After class, we decided to sit on the steps of Low Library and eat lunch while discussing when and where we would meet to determine our roles and suggest concepts for our short film project. I resisted getting a slice of pizza and followed Anders and Charlotte to a nearby deli, Milano Market, which they swore made the best sandwiches on the Upper West Side. Anders ordered the Chicken Caesar Wrap, Charlotte had the Grilled Veggie Sandwich on Focaccia, and I dithered for minutes before settling on the Turkey Club on sliced bread.

I offered to host our meeting in my suite at The Carlyle on Saturday afternoon.

“You live in The Carlyle?” Charlotte asked, unbelievingly.

I explained that I was Lulu Brooks’ daughter and she was rehearsing “Blues For a Diva” in preparation for its Broadway opening in September. During the show’s run, mom would have a suite at The Carlyle on the producers’ dime. I was here for the summer and taking the filmmaking course to keep me on the straight and narrow.

“Wow! Growing up in Hollywood must be exciting,” she burbled.

“It has its pluses…and minuses,” I summed up.

Afterwards, as I hurried to catch the downtown bus to be there when Mom makes her glorious return to the rehearsal studio, Anders, running alongside me, asked why I wasn’t going home first to check on Alice.

“Oh, we started putting her in a kennel during the day today. That’s why I was almost late this morning for class. I had to drop her off.” The door to the bus closed just as I uttered the last sentence. I waved to Anders as he stood on the corner, before inserting my MetroCard in the farebox by the driver.

I stepped off the service elevator and was immediately slapped in the face with the picture of two angry, snarling women, one of whom was Mom, shouting at each other. Poor Danny looked like the referee in a prize fight, attempting to separate boxers after the bell rings ending a round. I wanted to rush forward and help Mom but Maris Lafferty grabbed me by the arm to stop me.

“Sweetie, you’re just going to get caught in the middle. Let Danny try to calm things down.”

“But Annie looks like she’s going to swing at Mom—”

“It’s a catfight. The worst it’ll escalate to is pulling hair—”

“How did it start?”

“Your mother walked in and, in a split second, Annie started screaming at her. Like I told you, Cherry, Trent’s not worth all the trouble. Good thing he didn’t go after you too.”

When Danny tried to come between them, they both shouted him away.

“I’m not going to work with someone who’s well-known for backstage seductions!” Annie bellowed in Mom’s face.

“What are you talking about? Trent and I have a mutual attraction. You’re the one who’s the operator here. You swing both ways, huh. You’re the one doing the seducing.”

“Okay, I lied to everyone about being a lesbian but I only told everyone that because David Wetherell, the man whose marriage you broke up if I recall, was a notorious player. He’s unattached right now. Why don’t you two pick up where you left off twenty years ago and leave decent people alone?”

David, standing by the windows, grimaced as Annie went on her tirade. But he wasn’t budging from his spot to put out the fire. I saw Philippa with her head in her hands, embarrassed by the whole scene.

“Ladies, we’re trying to rehearse a play here!” Danny interjected. “Can’t we all just get along?”

“I quit, Danny! I don’t need this…this humiliation. Not at the hands of this witch!” She turned to storm out of the studio.

“Annie, you signed a contract! You can’t just walk out. Listen, let’s break for today. Cooler heads will prevail with a good night’s rest. You’ll see.” He turned to Mom. “Lulu, can we do that? I’ll talk to Trent when he returns. And then the three of you can work this out. I’m sure it’s all a bad misunderstanding…”

“Nice try, Danny, but I’m not going to work with someone who has such contempt for me and has no grounds whatsoever to feel that way. Her relationship with Trent is a figment of her imagination. It’s professional, not personal! I’m not coming back until she’s gone. That’s it.” She turned to me, my arm still in the tight grasp of Maris Lafferty. “Come, Cherry, let’s go home. We’ll await word that you’ve fired this bimbo, Danny.”

“Cherry, call for the car service, dear,” Mom requested as we stepped out into the late afternoon hustle and bustle of Times Square.

“Mom, you’re not really quitting are you?”

“I don’t know, sweetie. I can’t work with that bitch under these conditions. She made a truly despicable scene back there. Was she raised by hyenas?”

After picking Alice up from the kennel, our regular driver took us back to The Carlyle. Of course, Mom gave him a generous tip. He even offered to carry Alice’s pet carrier all the way to our suite but I thanked him and said I can handle it. He tipped his cap to us and jumped back into his car. The hotel doorman greeted us with a smile before we went through the revolving doors.

“I’m going to call Doris now. I hope she’s home and not on another of her book tours.” Mom walked into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

I sat on the couch and hugged Alice to my chest. I really didn’t want to go back home if Mom decides to quit over this stupid triangle with Trent and Annie. She’d never let me live by myself in New York, even for just these two summer months. And Alastair isn’t here most of the time. Oh, cripes, this whole plan is falling apart.

She’s talking to Doris Duncan, her life coach. The life coach to the stars. Mom stopped seeing her therapist because she thinks going to one makes people think you’re crazy. On the other hand, a life coach is just a professional cheerleader of sorts. Life coaches are not concerned with your past emotional misadventures or complexes. They concentrate on strategies to achieve career and personal relationship goals. Mom even tried to have Doris coach me but, to her credit, she told Mom I needed to see real therapists and doctors for my gender dysphoria.

Ten minutes later, Mom bounded out of her bedroom, a wide smile on her face.

“Doris tells me I need to recharge myself!”

“And how, pray tell, are you going to do that?”

“Pack an overnight bag, Cherry. We’re going to spend some quality spa time.”

“Spa? Where are we going to find a spa in the middle of Manhattan island?”

“Silly girl, there are several world-class spas in Manhattan. They’re in condo towers and office buildings. When you’re in a thermal bath, for instance, it doesn’t matter that you’re in the middle of an urban jungle. You’re mentally miles and miles away. Anyway, Doris has an in with the owners of The Ardoin Wellness Spa in Tribeca. I can just drop her name and we can spend two maybe three refreshing days and nights recharging our life batteries. They have wine baths! It’ll do you a lot of good, Cherry. Soaking in mineral waters and listening to Doris’ inspirational talks.”

“But, Mom, I’m supposed to meet with my film class team on Saturday afternoon…here. And what about Alice? What do we do with her while we’re soaking in these thermal baths you speak of?”

“Doris says they allow you to bring your pets…if they’re small and don’t bite strangers. And, well, at least spend Friday with me, sweetie.” She sat down on the couch next to me and put Alice back down on the floor. “I need you to be with me. Even if it’s just for the first day. You’ll love it! Doris made a point of saying I should take you with me. It’ll be a great mother-daughter thing to do together…”

“Alright, Mom. But just Friday.” She kissed my forehead, then wiped her lipstick away with the side of her hand.

My phone rang. It was a voice call from Carson Gabriel, the boy I’d met the day before at grand-mère’s 4th of July barbecue.

“Hey, Carson, what up?”

“Cherry, I just called to see if you cleared up your weekend plans. I’m hoping you can come to our show on Saturday night at The Bowery Ballroom. And you can bring a friend. I talked Blake into giving me another comp.”

“Well…”

“I’d really like to see you. I think you’re really sweet…”

“You’ve only known me for like five hours yesterday.”

“I can tell.”

“And you don’t mind that I’m…you know—”

“I wouldn’t ask if I did. Right? So, please say you’re coming.”

“Okay. I’ll come…with a friend.”

“We open the show at around 8:30. It’s a 20-minute set so don’t be late. Just tell the security dude you’re with me. I’ll leave your name with him. Oh, the show’s 16+ so you’re in like Flynn—”

“Huh?”

“Gotta go. See you Saturday!”

Carson disconnected. I thought about calling Philippa and inviting her to accompany me to see the Vandal Savages but I changed my mind. Since I’m seeing Anders anyway on Saturday afternoon…