S'more to Lose

by Beth Merlin

  I left Bunk 14 and sat down at the same picnic table where I’d spent so many nights sitting OD. The same spot Perry confessed his secret about Annie and how she died. That moment had been the turning point in our relationship, both of us finally admitting why we’d abandoned the real world for the refuge of Camp Chinooka. Things seemed so complicated back then, but really, they were simple. We were two people desperately trying to reinvent ourselves and start over again.

  Now, there were obligations and expectations. There was press and pressure. There was so much more to lose and we both felt it. People say there’s always one summer that changes you. For me, it was my last one at Chinooka. Everything fuzzy in my life had finally come into absolute focus and I went home a different person.

  Was it too much to hope these grounds could work their magic a second time?

  When I got back to the cabin later that night, I searched the shelves of the entertainment center for the recording Gordy said he’d left for me. Wedged between Exodus and Gone with the Wind was the Camp Chinooka Centennial performance of Fiddler on the Roof. I popped the DVD into the player and waited for the unmistakable haunting melody of the opening overture. I closed my eyes and listened to Perry’s violin cadenza as it soared out over the audience and settled in the Chinooka woods.

  I watched a few of the numbers from the beginning of Act I and then fast-forwarded to the wedding scene. The men coming down one side of the candlelit theater and the women down the other. Then, the bride, escorted by her mother and father, gliding down the center row. The wedding dress I’d designed especially for that moment was even more spectacular than I remembered. The dress itself was constructed in three complex parts: the lace bodice with an attached underbodice, a pleated silk faille skirt that incorporated a smoothing petticoat, and a pleated silk faille cummerbund.

  One of my favorite things about the dress was its back. Jamie was of the firm opinion that the back of a wedding dress should be as interesting as the front; after all, the bride spends most of the service with her back to her guests. This one had a gorgeous lace train that cascaded down the bride’s back like a waterfall.

  I paused the video and moved closer to the TV. I pulled out the folded-up sketch of Linda and held it up beside the paused frame. There was something so classic and elegant about the dress I’d created for the show and something so stately and imposing about the Elizabeth gown. It hit me—Victoria’s dress had to fall somewhere in-between. It needed to be both contemporary and sophisticated but also harken back to the traditions and institutions of the British crown and noble queens that preceded her future reign. I picked up my pad and began scribbling furiously.

  The wedding gown was the first look to come pouring out. I took elements from each design and married them together to create something brand new. I incorporated the long sleeves and wrist ruffs from the Elizabeth gown and then came up with my own twist on the embroidered corset that was more modern and sleek. I looked back over to the sketch of Linda and studied the placement of the rubies, sapphires, and emeralds on the Elizabeth dress. The jewel tones weren’t quite right for a wedding gown, but the general effect was magnificent. Maybe I could come up with a different play on it? I reached for my colored pencils and drew large pink, canary yellow, and diamond stones on the collar and cuffs of the dress and scattered a few more down the train.

  I was in an almost manic state, flipping back and forth from page to page grabbing elements from one look to incorporate into a different one, each look and ensemble building off the one before like a crescendo. Over the next few hours, I knocked out an entire lookbook. By the time the sun rose, I’d completed sketches for all fourteen of Victoria’s garments.

  I got dressed, cleaned out the few items in the refrigerator, and packed up my belongings. I lifted the old turntable back onto the shelf and slid the records back into their sleeves. Debussy, Copland, Stravinsky, Schubert, Berlin, and finally Gershwin. I locked the cabin, carried my mug of coffee out to the porch, and stared out to Lake Chinooka.

  The lake was completely still. The only noises were the sailboats as they rocked against the dock and the water as it lightly lapped onto the shore. Trini was right. Here, in the middle of the Poconos, away from the bloggers, fashion commentators, tabloids, and gossip columns, I could finally hear my own voice again.

  I hurried to find Gordy before I took off to the city. He was putting a fresh coat of paint on the trim of the dining hall’s main door.

  He climbed down off his ladder as soon as he spotted me. “Heading back?”

  I nodded.

  “Get everything you needed sorted out?”

  “And then some.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad.”

  I dug into my bag and pulled out a bag with what remained of my s’mores ingredients—a half-finished bag of marshmallows, two chocolate bars, and a box of graham crackers. “I figured you or one of the guests could use this.”

  “Nah, I have my own stash. Why don’t you take them home with you?”

  “S’mores made in the microwave just aren’t the same as the ones made on a Chinooka campfire,” I said.

  He shook his head in agreement and I passed him the bag.

  “Anytime you ever feel like you need one…”

  “I’ll know just where to come.”

  I gave Gordy one last hug goodbye, threw on my aviators, and drove out of the gates of Camp Chinooka.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After I dropped Thom’s car back at the garage, I headed to my apartment to change clothes and put away my things before going to the studio. I’d called Jamie on the drive back from Milbank to let him know I’d broken through my creative block and was ready to work. He praised every deity under the sun and told me he’d meet me there with coffee and bagels from H&H.

  I stopped at my mailbox to grab the couple of days’ worth of mail I’d missed and tucked the pile under my arm. I pulled my suitcase off the small elevator and down the narrow hall to my apartment while peering into my bag to find my keys. They were at the bottom, crammed between my wallet and passport holder. I yanked them out, and when I looked up, saw Gideon sitting on the ground, fast asleep against the front door to my apartment.

  After rolling my bag closer to him, I cleared my throat a few times until he opened his eyes. “What are you doing? How long have you been here?”

  “I landed around six this morning. I’ve been sitting here since seven thirty”

  He stretched his hand up for help off the ground. I grabbed it and used my weight to pull him up. He brushed off his pants and rubbed the back of his neck. He was eyeing my suitcase.

  “I’ve been out of town the last couple of days.”

  “I know, Jamie told me. I called him when I got here and discovered you weren’t.”

  “Were you planning to wait here until I got back?”

  “I didn’t really have much of a plan. I just wanted to see you—talk in person.”

  I pushed open my front door. “You must need a drink or the bathroom. Something. Why don’t you come inside?”

  Gideon swung his bag over his shoulder and then pulled my suitcase into my apartment. I turned on the lights and went into the kitchen and switched on the coffee maker. When I came out, he was standing by the window.

  “Can I ask where you’ve been?” He lowered the blinds back down.

  “I needed to get away for a few days. I went up to my summer camp. It’s mostly empty this time of year, so I was finally able to focus on Victoria’s dress.”

  “That’s where you met Perry if I remember, right?” he said softly.

  “It’s my little corner of the world. That’s all.”

  Gideon shoved his hands into his pockets. “You know, I never thought I’d be this guy.”

  I took a seat on the couch and folded my legs underneath me. “What guy?”

  “The guy who’s so blind with jealousy he can’t see what’s right in front of him.”

  “I put you in an impossible situat
ion, but it’s over with Perry. It’s been over for a long time.”

  Gideon sat down beside me. He took my hands into his. “I want us to work. What do I need to do?”

  I pulled my hands back. “Gideon, Badgley Hall is your whole world, and my life is here. I’ve been down this road before. It won’t work. I know you believe the obstacle is Perry, and maybe he’s a part of this equation, but our lives, yours and mine, are very different.”

  “You can’t tell me you didn’t fall a little in love with Badgley Hall?”

  “Of course I did,” I answered, knowing we weren’t just talking about Badgley Hall.

  Gideon continued, “I shouldn’t have shut you out the way I did. An unfortunate trait of families like mine. We don’t know how to handle our emotions, so we pretend not to have any.”

  He offered me a smile and put his arm out. I crawled into the small nook between his shoulder and chest.

  “I’m sorry about what happened with Perry in the garden,” I whispered.

  He kissed my forehead. “I know, just try not to let it happen again.”

  “I promise.”

  He took my hand into his own. “Are you game to give this a real go, Gigi?”

  “I mean it, Gideon. As much as I might want to, I’m not sure the distance is going to work and I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

  “Look, I just need to get Badgley Hall up and running. Once it’s fully operational, I won’t need to be there all the time. I could move to New York and travel back and forth between the two places.”

  “Is that realistic? Badgley Hall isn’t just your business, it’s your home.”

  “Don’t they say home is where the heart is?”

  I exhaled. “I’m not sure it’s as simple as that.”

  “Maybe it isn’t. But we won’t know until we try. What do you say? Do we give it a shot?”

  I looked into his beautiful eyes. Why was I fighting this so hard? Here was someone wanting to commit to me, ready to do everything in his power to make us work. Gideon was kind, handsome, smart, worldly, and funny, with a title to boot. We obviously had chemistry. He was a good kisser and from a respected family. He had a castle and a moat and was practically Prince-Freakin’-Charming, for God’s sake. What else was I looking for? Sure, we didn’t have the same fiery dynamic Perry and I had. But where had that gotten the two of us? Nowhere. We’d burned that relationship to the ground.

  “Okay,” I answered.

  Gideon did a double take. “Okay?”

  “Okay, let’s give it a shot.”

  He grabbed my chin and pulled me in for a deep kiss. After he drew back, I rolled over to face him.

  “What do we do now?” I asked.

  Gideon sat up straighter. “I know you think I flew three thousand miles just to work things out with you, but truthfully, I was craving egg rolls and Moo Shoo chicken from Wo Hop.”

  “So, the truth comes out. It was Chinese food that called you across the pond?”

  He nodded and nestled back down into the couch.

  “Well, it’s a little early for me, and besides, I have to go into my studio for a few hours.” I picked up my sketch pad from the coffee table. “I finally broke through my block. Maybe we can take a raincheck on the Chinese?”

  “How ’bout this? I’ll stay here, watch some Netflix, and try to get some shut-eye since I didn’t sleep on the plane. We’ll meet up later for dinner?”

  “Sounds perfect.” I eased back into his arms where I stayed until he fell into a deep sleep.

  About an hour later, I left Gideon still asleep on the couch and headed to the studio to meet Jamie. When I walked in, he was standing with his back to me at a dress form, draping it with the material we’d selected for the bridal party. “How’s the viscount? I wasn’t sure you’d make it in. Honestly, I was hoping you wouldn’t—it’d mean there was still a chance for you guys.”

  I set my bag and coat down on the chair beside him. “We’re good, actually.”

  Jamie whipped around and pulled a pin out from between his lips. “You are?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip. “I think we’re gonna try to make it work.”

  “Well, hallelujah.” Jamie lifted up the dress form and pretended to dance with it. “When you told me you were going to spend a few days at Chinooka clearing your head, I just assumed you’d come back with Perry Gillman on the brain.”

  “I won’t lie, it was hard being there. Gordy put me up in his old cabin, of all places. I think he thought he was doing me some sort of favor letting me stay there.”

  Jamie rolled his eyes. “Good old Gordy. How was Chinooka? Did you have the place to yourself?”

  “Actually, there was this theater troupe staying on the grounds for a Renaissance fair a few towns away. Their commitment to that world was something else.”

  “My parents liked all that stuff. They went to the Renaissance festival every year in Fairburn, Georgia.”

  “You never really talk about your parents.”

  “My dad was a glassblower, and my mom gave demonstrations on how to use medieval and Renaissance looms. We had a few looms—kept the biggest ones in the barn. She weaved some outrageous stuff. Clothes, tapestries. All really intricate and really beautiful. I used to incorporate her pieces into my own designs. I’m pretty sure those are the garments that got me into FIT.”

  Jamie’s parents were extremely conservative and very religious. When he was a teenager, he came out to them as gay and they basically disowned him. He moved himself to New York City and worked his way through FIT. As far as I knew, he hadn’t communicated with his family in several years, and he rarely, if ever, talked about his childhood in Georgia. It was still a very open wound I knew hurt him to the core.

  “Sounds like they were really talented people. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  Jamie took the pin he’d been rolling between his thumb and forefinger and pushed it into the pincushion. “They were. So,” he said, changing the subject, “tell me more about these vagabonds staying at Chinooka?”

  “I met this one couple, Alan and Linda. He was performing as Henry VIII in A Man for All Seasons, and she works the fair circuit playing Elizabeth I.”

  Jamie raised his eyebrows. “Ironic.”

  “I know, tell me about it.”

  “Did they help Stella get her groove back?”

  I pulled out my sketch pad and flipped to the page with Victoria’s wedding gown. “This is what I came up with—a dress loosely inspired by Elizabeth I and the gown we created for Fiddler on the Roof.”

  Jamie took the pad out of my hands and laid it on his drafting table. He turned on the small attached lamp and leaned in to look it over.

  “This is magnificent. Has Victoria seen it yet?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I wanted you to see it first.”

  “The back is just…it’s…it’s a work of art.” He looked up at me. “How long are you thinking the train should be?”

  “About nine feet.”

  He pointed to the top section of the dress. “What’s that detail on the bodice?”

  “Alan told me about the Royal School of Needlework, based at Hampton Court Palace. Apparently, they’re known for creating perfect replicas of antique textiles. I want to incorporate the embroidery from Elizabeth I’s coronation dress but in a more modern way. Hold on, I have a sketch of it somewhere in here from when I was at the Victoria and Albert Museum.”

  “Very cool. What are you thinking for the fabrics?”

  “I know we talked about looking at some options from Italy and Spain, but I think I want to use all UK-sourced fabrics. I’m going to reach out to the Cluny Lace Co. in Derbyshire for samples. Their Leaver Lace is unparalleled.”

  “And the stones on the cuffs and collar?”

  “I’m not sure yet. How strict do you think the rules are about disassembling the Crown Jewels?” I teased. “Maybe we can reach out to the Swarovski people?

  Jamie put the
sketch back down on the table. “Looks like we have quite a bit of work to do these next months.”

  “That’s the understatement of the century.”

  “Good, I’ll need a distraction while I’m waiting.”

  My brow furrowed. “Waiting for what?”

  “To become a dad. Our surrogate’s three months pregnant. We’re having twins in November.”

  “Jamie, why didn’t you say anything?” I put my hand over my mouth.

  “It was a little touch and go. The surrogate had some bleeding, and we were waiting for all the tests to come back.”

  I threw my arms around him. “That’s the best news I’ve ever heard.”

  “Thom’s over the moon. He’s already picked out names and private schools.”

  “Of course he has. What about you? How are you feeling about it all?”

  “I’m thrilled! But twins? I was worried about screwing just one kid up.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “You won’t screw anyone up. Look how well you raised me.”

  “Gigi, do you really think I can do this? Be someone’s father?”

  “Unquestionably.”

  Jamie laid his hand over his heart. “I hope you’re right.”

  I shook my head. “I am right.”

  “Right about what?” Jordana asked as she walked into the studio.

  “Looks like I’m gonna be a dad,” Jamie said.

  “Oh my God,” Jordana said as she rushed over to hug him. “When? How?”

  “November. We used a surrogate. We’re having twins.”

  Jordana stepped back. “Did Thom get the Dalton applications done yet?”

  “They’re on his desk,” Jamie answered.

  Jordana laughed. “This is gonna be quite the year for G. Malone. Speaking of which, Gigi, how’s the lookbook coming? Anna’s office called again for it. Apparently, she’d like to have it ahead of the meeting so she can be prepared with notes.”

  “Anna Wintour’s evaluating the book? Does Victoria know?” Jamie asked.

  Jordana shrugged her shoulders. “Victoria knows. She’s fine with it.”