by Beth Merlin
My father handed me the paper menu, but I put it down and asked him to order for us. When the waitress came over, he ordered two Hot and Sour soups and a Moo Goo Gai Pan. He poured some tea and sat back in his seat as if to tell me I had the floor to speak. I blew on the hot tea but put it down without taking a sip. I looked up at my father and realized that, for the first time in a long time, I had his full and undivided attention.
“I’m not sure where to begin,” I said.
“I usually tell my clients to just start at the beginning.”
I inhaled deeply. “Joshua came to see me at Chinooka.”
“I know. He came to my office and pleaded with me to tell him where you were. I hesitated at first, but then I remembered that night in the Hamptons.”
“Dad, we don’t have to rehash that night,” I said, thinking of the conversation with my mother on the rowboat.
The Hot and Sour soup came. My father passed me the plate of crispy noodles, and we both crunched them up and let the pieces fall into our bowls. I took a few spoonfuls of the soup and then let the whole story of Joshua’s visit to Chinooka pour out. When I was finished, he simply said, “So their wedding’s on?”
“I hope so,” I said, as tears started rolling down my face. My father picked the napkin off his lap and wiped them away. “I saw Alicia tonight. She had no idea about Joshua and me. I told her I instigated the whole thing.”
He leaned into the table. “You gave Joshua a pass?”
“No, no, I finally told the truth. I did instigate it. I may not have invited him over that first night, but I’d been ready to act on those feelings for years, long before the thought ever crossed his mind. I’m so sorry, Dad.”
“For what?” he asked.
“For thinking I knew everything I needed to know when I saw you with that girl in the Hamptons. I know now it’s not that black and white.”
“Things with me and your mother are incredibly complicated, but that doesn’t excuse all of my behavior and many of my decisions.”
I nodded. Even though my mother’s visit had revealed things about my parents’ relationship that I was just beginning to wrap my head around, one thing was clear—they’d both played a part in its breakdown. His acknowledgment of his role in it all was more than I expected, but just what I needed to hear to put us back on an even plane.
The Moo Goo Gai Pan arrived, but I was too full to eat any. My father took two large helpings and covered them in duck sauce. Between forkfuls, he asked me about the rest of my summer at Chinooka. I gave him the highlights and then told him about Perry.
“Are you happy with him, Georgie?” he asked.
“I am,” I answered.
“And he’s a good guy?”
“He’s a Gershwin fan,” I said.
“So he’s a very good guy,” he said, winking at me.
“Dad, do you think Alicia will ever forgive me?”
He took hold of my hands from across the table. “You’d be surprised at some people’s capacity to forgive, Georgie.”
“You really believe that?”
He laughed, and I asked him what could possibly be so funny.
“You know, when you were a little girl you’d ask me a question, and that question would lead to another question, which would lead to ten more questions. You were convinced I had the answers to all of them,” he said.
“Didn’t you?”
“Not even close, but I never wanted to disappoint you,” he said in a tone softer than I’d ever heard him use with me. He picked the check up off the table. “Shall we?” he said, leading the way out of the restaurant.
The sidewalk was wet and I could see we’d missed a summer storm. The rain had broken the humidity, and the air was much cooler and more forgiving. We took a taxi back uptown, and he dropped me back off at the hotel. As I climbed out of the car, he pulled me in for a hug. It felt good to have his big arms around me like I was a little girl again. When he finally let go, I got out of the cab and watched it drive away.
Perry was sitting in the lobby when I walked in. As soon as he saw me, he put his arms out. I gratefully let him pull me close to his chest. His shirt smelled like the cheap detergent they used at camp. I breathed it in and missed Chinooka.
“Let’s take a walk somewhere. The kids are all in their rooms, and I have counselors stationed on all the floors to make sure they stay there,” he said.
He took my hand, and I let him guide me through the double doors, out to the noisy street. It was well after midnight, and Times Square was as lively as if it were mid-day.
“This is your city. Lead the way, Princess,” he said, trying to make me smile.
We turned onto Seventh Avenue, and I let the whole story pour out. Perry listened to every word, starting with what happened with Alicia and through the conversation with my father. When I was done, he told me he was proud of how honest I’d been with them both.
Then, he took over, telling me everything about his meeting with Annie’s parents. He’d told them all about his relationship with Annie and how much he’d loved her. He’d gone into detail about that fateful night in the desert, when he left her at the bar. He answered every question about those last few hours and the role he’d played in them. When he finished, they’d thanked him for his honesty and candor. Most importantly, they forgave him, admitting that they’d known their daughter liked to push boundaries and live on the edge.
Perry looked like a different man. His eyes were brighter. His stance more assured. The shame he’d been carrying around since that night might never totally be gone, but it had, for the moment, been eased. Time would do the rest.
We continued walking until we reached the fountain at Lincoln Center. We sat down on the edge of the pool and people-watched.
“Is it always like this?” Perry asked.
“All the people, you mean? Yeah, on a beautiful summer night like this one, you can count on it,” I said. “Remember one of the first nights of camp, when we played the Dating Game?”
“Of course, I remember. You couldn’t stand me then,” he teased.
“Remember that question about your perfect date and your answer about Little Venice and The Whispering Gallery?”
He nodded.
“Well, this is mine,” I said.
“What is?”
“Sitting here like this. Both of us, just like this.”
He put his arm around me and pulled me close to his chest. “Even with the taxis honking and the sirens screaming?”
“Just close your eyes and listen.” I looked up and saw his eyes were tightly closed. A smile crept across his face “It’s the symphony of the city,” I said.
“It sure is,” he replied.
He kissed me, and we walked back to the hotel. The next few days in New York were hectic, but we accomplished everything we’d set out to. And when it was time to get on the bus to go back to camp, I was ready to go home.
Chapter Twenty
When we got back from New York, there was only one full week left at camp. The kids would perform Fiddler on the Roof on the last night, leaving only a few more rehearsals and just days for me to finish the rest of the costumes. All around Chinooka, things were winding down. At the lake, the lifeguards were administering Red Cross certification tests. At the different activity cabins, campers were finishing up their projects. At night, in the gazebos, the Birch boys and Cedar girls were trying to make up for lost time, becoming bolder and more strategic in their tactics toward the opposite sex. Everyone wanted a good story to take home with them.
Gordy agreed to let Jamie spend the last week of camp in one of the empty off-season cabins so he could help me with the final preparations for the show. Although he’d been an absolute lifesaver, I couldn’t help but wonder why Jamie was giving so much of his time and energy to this project. When I finally got him alone the night before the show, I confronted him. He was working on Big Bertha, finishing Motel the tailor’s suit for the wedding scene while I was hand sew
ing the lace trim on Tzeidel’s wedding veil. When he took out his earphones, I seized the opportunity and brought the finished veil over to him so he could inspect my work.
“This is gorgeous, Gigi,” he said, studying every inch of it.
“How’s the rest of the suit coming along?” I asked.
“Almost finished,” he said, holding up a pant leg to show me. “I see why you asked me to bring up your sewing machine. Big Bertha’s kind of a bitch.”
“Wow, it’s incredible,” I said, admiring all the details he’d added. His abilities still astounded me. “Jamie, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he replied.
“Why are you here?
He folded the jacket and laid it on top of the sewing machine. “You needed my help,” he answered.
“I know, and I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done, but really, Jamie, is there another reason?”
He sat back down. I could see his eyes searching for the right answer. “I guess for the same reason you’re here.”
I nodded in understanding. He’d been unhappy with the direction of his career for a long time. He’d confided in me more than once that he felt stuck and stalled, doing mediocre work that he didn’t believe in. He’d been looking for an escape for a while, and, like me, he’d found it at Chinooka. I sat down beside him and took his hand in mine. “The show’s over tomorrow night. Camp’s over on Sunday. In forty-eight hours, we both turn back into pumpkins,” I said.
An electrified smile crept across his face. “We don’t have to.”
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I have the stamina to be a professional counselor. These girls have worn me out.”
“That’s not what I mean. Gigi, look around at what we created together,” he said, motioning to the racks and racks of costumes.
I stood up and took a turn around the room. He was right. In a little less than eight weeks, we’d produced some pretty extraordinary pieces. The wedding gown was our crowning achievement. It could easily be on a mannequin at any high-end bridal boutique. “You’re right. We did good, partner.”
“Exactly my point. What if we really tried it?”
“Tried what?”
“To be partners. Designing partners.”
“Are you crazy? We can’t be partners! What are you talking about? Starting our own label?”
“Badgley Mischka did it. And Georgina Chapman and Keren Craig started Marchesa together, didn’t they?”
I hadn’t seen him looking so excited since the day we met for our first challenge on Top Designer. I felt bad bursting his bubble, but I had to acknowledge the truth. “I’m currently a fashion pariah, and you’re the guy who got kicked off first.”
“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn,” he said, quoting the famous line from Gone with the Wind.
“Jamie, we could lose everything,” I said.
“You just said it yourself, you’re a pariah, and I’m the guy who got kicked off first. What do we have to lose? Do this with me, Gigi. Take a chance on us.”
He was right. What did either of us really have to lose? In a few days, I’d be back to being an unemployed designer, and he’d be returning to a job he hated. We’d both poured more heart and effort into these costumes than we’d given to anything else in memory. The end result spoke for itself. “Okay, let’s do it.”
Jamie pulled me in for a hug. “Can you break the news to Big Bertha that she isn’t joining our new company?”
“I think she knows that her place is here.”
We worked straight through the night to finish the costumes. As the sun came up over Lake Chinooka, the last of the buttons were tightened, threads snipped, and the final skirts hemmed. Exhausted, we congratulated ourselves on a job well done and what we hoped would be the first of many completed collections.
Later, I went back to the cabin to catch a few minutes of shut-eye. I’d only been asleep about forty-five minutes when Hannah woke me, chirping away about how nervous she was for the show later that night. I reassured her she’d be great and promised to meet her at the amphitheater early to run some lines. I climbed out of bed and looked around the room. Trunks and duffle bags were strewn all over the floor. Most of the girls were busy packing and cleaning before breakfast. I tiptoed around the mess to grab my bathrobe and shower caddy. Then, for the last time, I sprinted across the field to the shower house, the one place at Chinooka I was definitely not going to miss.
When I was dressed, I met up with the rest of the camp in the dining hall. Breakfast was well underway, and Gordy was at the microphone about to make some morning announcements. Perry saw me walk in and motioned for me to come sit next to him as Gordy whistled to get the room’s attention.
“I’m sad to say this is our last full day together,” Gordy said. “The activity cabins will be open all day, so make sure to go pick up your projects. Counselors, please ensure that your groups have their packed trunks and duffle bags on their bunk porches no later than 3:00. Maintenance will be around to pick them up. Tonight, Fiddler on the Roof will be performed at the Lakeside Amphitheater, starting at 6:00. The performance will be followed by the final banquet and slide show. Have a great last day at Chinooka.”
The campers went back to eating and talking. Perry passed me over a cup of coffee.
“Bless you,” I said, stirring in some milk and sugar.
“I saw Jamie coming back to his cabin around 5:00 this morning. The two of you were really burning the midnight oil.”
“We finished everything.” I yawned. “The costumes are done. What were you doing up at that hour?”
“Composing. I think I finally broke through my writer’s block. About eight weeks too late, but better late than never. At least I’m going back to London with a direction to take my composition in.”
“London,” I repeated. We’d both been actively avoiding that topic for the last few weeks.
He kissed me on my forehead and stroked my hair. I was snuggling into him when Hannah ran over, interrupting us.
“Gigi, can we run lines now?” she pleaded.
“Sure, just give me a second,” I said. She backed a few feet away but had her eyes firmly on us. Perry let go of my hand.
“Go. I’ll see you at the amphitheater later,” Perry said.
“You don’t want to get in a last-minute rehearsal?”
He picked up his violin case from the ground. “Did you forget I’m a ringer?”
“What I forgot was just how modest you are,” I said.
When Hannah and I arrived at the amphitheater, the backstage crew was putting the finishing touches on the sets while Davis and Jackie directed them where to place the props and pieces of scenery. When they were done, the space was completely transformed. Davis and Jackie were not only using the center stage but also the surrounding areas to turn the whole amphitheater into the fictional town of Anatevka. Davis had told me the design was intended so that everyone in the audience would feel like they were living in that small Russian village along with the characters in the play. I’d never seen the show performed like that and knew it would be something special.
When I got back to the cabin, Jordana was helping Madison get a summer’s worth of stuff into her trunk and two duffle bags while the rest of the girls were helping each other carry their bags out to the porch for pickup. I walked to each of the Cedar cabins and made sure the girls were on schedule for the luggage pickup. Most of the girls had long finished and were sitting on the beds, writing out their goodbye messages in each other’s autograph books. When I got to Michelle and Brooke’s cabin, Candice ran over to me and asked me to write something in hers. I thought carefully, and then scribbled out, “To my favorite troublemaker, thanks for keeping me on my toes.” I handed the book back to her and saw a big smile creep across her face. I made the rest of my rounds and headed back to the amphitheater to help get the kids ready for the performance.
As I was doing one last inspection, Perry walked in. His d
ark wavy hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, and the stubble he’d been letting grow out for the show was now a neat beard. He led me behind one of the racks and leaned in to kiss me.
“Is the beard scratching you?” he asked.
I rubbed my hand across his chin. “No, I like it. You look very dignified.”
He smiled. “Maybe I won’t shave it off tomorrow, then. I’ll go back to London a bearded wonder,” he said, leaning into me for another kiss.
I turned away from him. “Maybe.”
He pulled me in close, and I nuzzled into the lapels of his jacket. We stood together, locked in an embrace, as the cast started trickling in. When Hannah called my name, I pulled away to help her.
“See you at curtain time?” Perry called to me as he walked toward the boys’ side.
“I’ll be the one cheering your name from stage left,” I answered.
He flashed a smile and ducked under the dividing curtain.
Around six, the entire camp filed into the amphitheater. Gordy took his usual place in the center of the front row, and the rest of the senior staff sat down on both sides of him. I peeked out from behind the stage curtain and saw the Cedar girls and Birch boys strategically picking their seats for the two-and-a-half hour performance. When the campers and counselors were finally seated, Jackie and Davis stepped to the center of the stage and welcomed all of Camp Chinooka to the opening—and closing—night of Fiddler on the Roof. Then, they cued the camper operating the spotlight to the back of the amphitheater, where Perry stood, waiting to begin his cadenza.
When the spotlight hit the iridescent material of his fiddler’s suit, reflecting the blue-gold hue into the audience, I heard actual gasps. He looked amazing—like a star that had just fallen out of the sky. Without a moment’s hesitation, Perry picked up the bow of his violin and played the familiar and haunting opening of the show. Every eye in the audience followed him as he danced and played up and down the aisles, inviting all the onlookers to be transported to Anatevka with him. When he finally got to the stage and took his perch atop Tevye’s house, the rest of the orchestra joined him, playing the show’s overture while the cast took their places for the opening number. Perry hit the final note, and the entire audience was on their feet cheering. I tipped my imaginary hat to his brilliance and blew him a kiss. He pretended to catch the kiss in the palm of his hand and put it in the pocket of his suit. Then, he turned his attention back to the show, which was now fully underway. I gave him a small wave and retreated to the hidden backstage area to help Jamie prep the costume changes for the wedding scene at the end of Act One.