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 sewing 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 dark 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.

Like two old theater pros, Jamie and I worked as a perfectly synchronized team, helping the cast into the costumes. I’d only seen the cast rehearse during the day. From what Jackie had told me, seeing this particular scene at night was going to be a totally different experience.

Davis had staged it so the wedding processional would come down the two main aisles of the amphitheater, the men on one aisle, and the women on the other. The entire arena would be lit up with candles as they sang the famous song ‘Sunrise, Sunset’ and walked toward the large wedding canopy in the center of the stage.

I closed my eyes to listen to the powerful lyrics of ‘Sunrise, Sunset’ and immediately thought of Alicia on her own wedding day. How nervous and excited she must have felt as her parents escorted her to her own wedding canopy. How beautiful she must have looked in her dress, surrounded by votive candles and white flowers. I opened my eyes and looked out into the audience and saw many of the girls, and even some of the boys dabbing the corners of their eyes. Then, I spotted her.

Alicia was sitting in the last row of the theater, staring right back at me.

All the blood rushed to my feet. I grabbed hold of the curtain to steady myself. I took a deep breath and glanced back out into the audience. Our gazes met again and then drifted over to the center of the theater. Together, we watched as the bride and groom walked underneath the chuppah—a symbol of the home the new couple would build.

Together, Alicia and I witnessed them exchange rings and drink from the same kiddush cup. We listened to the show’s choir sing the beautiful and poignant lyrics. Tears streamed down both of our faces as the groom lifted the bride’s veil to kiss her before stepping on the glass, signifying the end of the ceremony. In my heart, I knew this would be the one and only wedding Alicia and I would ever attend together. The look on her face told me she knew it too.

I watched the rest of the show in a fog, fixated on Alicia in the audience, and terrified that if I lost sight of her for even one second she’d be gone forever. Then, in the second act, Hannah stepped forward to sing her character’s big number, ‘Far From The Home I Love,’ the same song Alicia had belted out when she was thirteen years old. The second the spotlight hit her, Hannah looked like she was going to be sick. The orchestra played the opening notes, and it was obvious she’d forgotten the words. Ashen, she looked over to me, and I mouthed the first few to her. The orchestra restarted the song and the color returned to her face. This time, she started exactly on cue. When I looked back out into the audience, Alicia was gone.

The rest of the show flew by, and suddenly, it was time for the curtain call. Hannah looked genuinely shocked and thrilled when the audience stood up and gave her a standing ovation. Perry, the final member of the cast to come out for a bow, got the longest and loudest applause. Jackie and Davis took the stage and thanked Sally from arts and crafts for her help with the sets and the members of the Milbank Orchestral Society, who’d generously given up their time to perform the score. Then they invited Jamie and me to step forward. Jackie gushed about the costumes and all of the hours of work we’d put into the show. Perry stepped forward and presented me with a bouquet of flowers tied together with a measuring tape.

Gordy leaped onto the stage to give his standard congratulatory speech, and I ducked away to find Alicia. Perry saw me sneaking off and cornered me backstage.

“Where are you tiptoeing off to?” he asked.

“Go to the banquet with everyone. I’ll meet you there,” I said.

“Don’t you want to go together? I mean, after tonight, I’m pretty much a bona fide celebrity around here,” he teased.

“I’ll meet you there, Mr. Celebrity. I have to take care of something,” I said, turning from him.

He grabbed ahold of my arm. “Gigi, what’s the matter?”

“I saw Alicia,” I said.

“Where?”

“She was in the audience during the show. I turned away for a second and she was gone. I don’t know if she’s even still on the grounds. I have to try to find her.”

He nodded and let go of my arm. “I’ll be in the dining hall waiting for you.”

I didn’t have to look far. Alicia was sitting in the large gazebo on the Great Lawn, staring off toward Lake Chinooka. She didn’t even turn her head when I sat down beside her, her gaze fixed on the distance. There were a million things I wanted to say, but I remained silent. We watched as the entire camp came up from the amphitheater and crossed the Great Lawn into the dining hall. When the last camper was inside, she finally spoke.

“When I got into my car tonight, I never expected to end up here. I just started driving. Then, all of a sudden, I found myself on the road to Chinooka,” Alicia said. “I should’ve turned around right then and gone home. But, that night at Jamie’s keeps playing over and over in my head. I have dreams where I ask you a million questions about how this happened. Then I have these other dreams where I scream and scream at you, and say all the things I couldn’t say to you that night.”

“So scream at me. Whatever it is, just say it now. Tell me I’m a terrible friend. Tell me I betrayed you and you hate me,” I said, pleading with her.

She drew in a slow and steady breath. “I’m not going to ease your guilty conscience for you.”

She was right. Hearing her say those words—that I was a terrible friend who’d betrayed her—would be far easier than it’d been to admit them to myself. So, I offered her the only thing I could. “Ask me all your questions. Ask me anything.”

Alicia looked surprised by my voluntary candor. She pushed her hair behind her ears. “Tell me the truth. You didn’t really throw yourself at him, did you?”

“After you left for London and ended things with him, Joshua came over to the apartment to grab some of his stuff and get some advice. We had dinner and things progressed from there. I went to see him a few nights later, and we agreed it had been a mistake and would never happen again.”

“But it did happen again?”

“Yes.”

“And continued the whole time I was away?”

“Yes.”

“I see,” she said softly. “So that’s the whole of it?”

I inhaled deeply. “Ali, I spent my whole life in love with him. My whole life watching from a distance. Then, suddenly he looked at me. He wanted me. It’s not an excuse—it’s the truth.”

“Did you come here to get away from him and the wedding? Are you still in love with him?”

“When I came here, I fooled myself into thinking I was running away from Joshua and the mistakes we’d made. But this place is full of ghosts. You were everywhere I turned. What I did was inexcusable, but I swear, losing you, not him, has been the worst heartbreak of my life.”

She broke down and swung her arms around herself like a hug, her shoulders shaking with sobs. I slid closer to her, and she buried her head in my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, and we stayed like that, not moving or saying a word until she finally lifted her head and took a few deep breaths to compose herself.

“I postponed the wedding. I told Joshua I need some time to figure this all out.” She took a tissue out of her bag and wiped her eyes.

“I’m so sorry. That’s the last thing I wanted.”

She stood up, crossed the gazebo, and looked up at the sky. It was a full moon and a clear night. The light coming down illuminated the whole lawn so the old worn gazebos looked freshly painted.

“When I accused you of being jealous of me and my relationship with Joshua, I didn’t mean it—at least not the way it came out. I’ve always known your feelings for him, right from that very first day of camp when he sat with you on the bus. I just never thought about how hard it must have been all these years, and I’m sorry for that. What I’ve come to realize is that we—me and Joshua—don’t work without you.”

I crossed over to where she stood looking out over the lawn. “Of course you do.”

“No. We don’t. It was never clearer to me than when you were gone. A good relationship shouldn’t require an interpreter.” She turned to me. “The costumes and the show were beautiful, Gigi. The wedding and wedding dress, especially. It was exactly what a wedding should be.”

I hadn’t told her I had anything to do with making the costumes, but because she was Alicia, she knew.

“You know, it’s funny,” Alicia said. “This place looks just the same as it did when we were campers, but it feels different to be standing here now.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“I’m jealous you were able to squeeze out one more summer here.”

“You feel that chill in the air?” I said, wrapping my arms around my body. “Summer’s practically over.”

She slipped her arms into a light coat. “Practically, but I think we have a few good days left ahead of us.”

“I hope so,” I said.

“Me too.”