by Beth Merlin
“Pull the sheets and blankets out on all sides and just remake the bed in the morning. Trust me, it will be easier than trying to make sense of it right now.”
We both got out of our beds and practically tore them apart in order to be able to get back into them.
“You have to admit, it’s a little bit funny,” I said, lying back down on top of my bed, not even bothering to climb underneath the blankets.
“A little bit,” she said, laughing.
“Could’ve been worse,” I said.
“Really?”
“Trust me. A lot worse,” I said, remembering the time that Alicia and I had left a dead mouse in one of our counselor’s beds. She quit the very next morning.
Chapter Four
A few weeks after getting fired from Diane von Furstenberg, I went for drinks with one of the few friends I’d stayed in touch with from Top Designer, Jamie Malone. Jamie was now working for The Gap but saw himself as a sellout. He designed mainstream clothing, but in his free time, he created some of the most outrageous and incredible pieces of wearable art I’d ever seen. Jamie had the distinction of being the first one kicked off our season of Top Designer following a disastrous challenge where we were asked to make a wedding gown out of toilet paper. It was his very minor claim to fame, but he milked it for all it was worth—usually very little.
We decided to meet for drinks at midnight at one of my favorite bars in his neighborhood, Schiller’s. The bar held some sentimental value, as it was one of Joshua and my favorite haunts.
At first, I’d loved how my relationship with Joshua forced us both to step outside of our comfort zone and usual routines. Joshua couldn’t bring me to his favorite five-star restaurants or company box seats since he and Alicia frequented all of them. I couldn’t take him to any fashion shows or industry parties because I routinely scored Joshua and Alicia places on those guest lists. We realized that in order to stay under the radar, we had to become anonymous.
As a couple, Joshua and I had been strangers to a more underground version of New York City, always on the lookout for some obscure restaurant, show, or gallery opening. I’d lived in New York my whole life without doing half the things he and I did over those few months.
Schiller’s was a favorite. It was an old-style liquor bar that seemed transported from a small town in France. The wine was served in emptied-out Coke bottles, and french fries and mussels were available twenty-four hours a day. It wasn’t completely hidden, but it was off the beaten path enough that we never worried about getting caught when we ate there.
Walking in the door, I spotted Jamie sitting at a booth near the front. He waved me over and gave me a kiss on each cheek.
“Sit,” he said, motioning me into the booth. “I ordered us shots of vodka.”
I took off my jean jacket and inched onto the long bench. “So it’s gonna be one of those nights?”
He took both of my hands in his and leaned in. “So I’m just going to say it. When I didn’t hear from you, I called your office. Whoever answered told me you’re no longer working at Diane von Furstenberg. Something you want to tell me?”
I pulled my hands back and downed the shot of vodka in front of me. “I got fired.”
“Okay, so they downsized. It’s no big deal,” he replied.
“Not downsized. Fired. I dried up creatively or something,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I sat at my workstation day after day just staring at my sketchpad and nothing came. It’s a block. Or maybe I don’t have it and never did. Either way, it wasn’t the company’s fault. They gave me a dozen opportunities to redeem myself. I couldn’t.”
“Gigi…” he said.
“It’s fine. It was a job, and people get fired from their jobs. Look at you. You got kicked off Top Designer first in front of millions of people, and you’re doing great,” I teased.
“We’ll need another shot,” he said, calling to the waitress.
“And a plate of fries—actually, two plates,” I said, calling out after her.
Suddenly Jamie looked very serious. “Can I ask you a question? Does this have anything to do with the married guy?”
After things started with Joshua, I’d been absolutely bursting at the seams to tell somebody about it. Jamie had sensed a change in me and began to question my newfound happiness. Although I’d wanted to tell him the truth, Joshua and I had decided we weren’t going to tell anyone about our relationship until Alicia got back from her program in London and we could tell her in person. So, I made up a story about how I was seeing someone I worked with. It wasn’t so far-fetched, and some of the made-up story really did parallel what was going on in my life.
“He went back to his wife. You knew that, right? The two of them have completely reconciled.” All the alcohol rushed to my face. “Are my cheeks red?”
“A little. Gigi, stop,” he said.
I threw back Jamie’s shot of vodka. “Stop what?”
“I know the guy is Joshua. I saw you here with him,” Jamie said.
If my cheeks weren’t red before, I was sure they’d just turned a bright shade of crimson. “You saw us?”
“It was a few months ago. You were in that booth back there,” he said, pointing to the corner. “Does Alicia know?”
“No,” I answered. “They’re getting married in August.”
The waitress brought out our plates of french fries, and Jamie asked again for the second round of shots she’d forgotten. He put his hands over his mouth. “You’re still seeing him?”
I shook my head. “No, no of course not. We ran into each other in the registry department in Bloomingdale’s of all places, and he dropped that bomb.”
“Gigi, how did this thing with him even start?”
There were so many answers to his question. In some ways, it had started when I was on the bus my first summer at Camp Chinooka. Never having been away from home before, I was terrified. Joshua had sat down beside me and we’d talked the whole way to camp. I first fell in love with him that day.
Maybe things really began during our senior prom, when we were standing outside the Sheinmans’ apartment building taking pictures. Joshua was Alicia’s date, and I’d gone with a friend. As we made our way toward the limo, Joshua had turned to me and told me that he’d never seen me looking more beautiful. After that, my own date hardly existed to me.
Or three years later at a New Year’s Eve party, when Joshua had kissed me in a dark corner of the crowded dance floor while Alicia was getting a drink from the bar. It wasn’t a full-on passionate kiss—more like a peck between drunk friends—but I knew I was in trouble when I realized how much it had meant to me.
Then, when I moved in with Alicia, my feelings only seemed to intensify. On the nights Joshua was over waiting for Alicia to come home from work, we would talk for hours. I’d hold my breath every time I heard the elevator door open in the hallway, silently praying it wouldn’t be her. Of course, she always returned, and it was as though those stolen moments had never happened.
After that, I’d kept my distance, fearing that my feelings would be obvious to one or both of them. Alicia would invite me to join them for dinner or a movie, and I’d make up excuse after excuse so as not to have to be around Joshua. I was actually relieved when Alicia announced she’d be spending at least a year in London for work. I was certain that Joshua would have no need to visit our apartment, and I’d finally be able to get over him.
Then, the completely unexpected happened. Alicia broke up with Joshua before her trip. After dating him most of her life, she’d decided she needed a clean break and the opportunity to explore other relationships. Within a month, she was seeing someone new. By the two-month mark, she was calling to tell me she was considering moving to London permanently. I’d hung up the phone, my heart pounding, because for the first time since I’d known him, Joshua was free.
I gave Jamie the simplest explanation I could. “It started last year when Alicia was in London. When she got back, it ended.”
He gave me a look that said he didn’t quite believe my straightforward answer.
“I’ve been the third wheel in their relationship since we were kids. When Joshua wanted to know what to buy Alicia for a birthday or how to surprise her for an anniversary, he came to me. When she was mad at him for one reason or another, I made it right again. I don’t remember when I first fell in love with him because I can’t even recall a time I wasn’t.”
He rubbed my forearm. “So, what are you going to do?”
“You know as well as I do, it’s gonna take some time before any fashion house is willing to look at me. I have some of the money I won on Top Designer saved, but I’ll have to figure something else out in the next couple of weeks.”
“There’s always Mama and Papa Goldstein,” he suggested.
“I’m almost twenty-seven years old. I’m not asking my parents for help unless I’m completely desperate. Besides, they’ve been waiting for this since I threw all those law school acceptances away. I can’t give them the satisfaction.”
“You know you can always crash at my place if you need to. It’s not big, but we’d make it work.”
I reached across the table and gave his hand a squeeze. “You’re a good friend, Jamie.”
He gave me a reassuring smile. “Have you seen Alicia since the engagement announcement?”
“She’s been in Singapore this last week for work. She doesn’t even know I was fired, and I’m not planning on telling her.”
“What?” He practically spewed his vodka across the table.
“I just need to get away for the summer. Maybe I’ll travel? Backpack through Europe? I need to disappear. If she thinks I’m getting ready for the fall fashion shows, she’ll get over the fact I can’t go to the wedding. She puts work ahead of almost everything. She’ll understand.”
“You know, just because you convince yourself she’ll understand, that doesn’t make it true,” he said.
“No, she will,” I said firmly.
“Maybe you should fess up? Shouldn’t she know what she’s getting in a husband?”
“It’s not like that. He loves her, not me. He has since we were children. I was just a distraction. A way of getting over her,” I answered.
“Did he ever outright tell you that? “Jamie asked.
“No, never,” I said.
Jamie raised his eyebrows. “Well?”
“Either way, in a few weeks, I’ll be out of the equation, and things will go back to the way they were.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you? Things like this can never go back,” he said.
Over the past few months, I’d fervently held onto the belief that if I could put enough time and distance between Joshua and me and what we’d done, our actions could be forgotten. It was the only thing that had enabled me to be around Alicia without being suffocated by guilt. I clung to that hope. I staked everything on it.
Jamie looked me squarely in the eye. “You should tell her.”
“Why hurt her? It’s done now.”
“If you still have feelings for him, how can it be done?”
“They’ll get married like all of us always knew they would, and I’ll take up the role of the single friend they invite over for holidays. It’s a foolproof plan.” I looked up at Jamie. “Do you think I’m a terrible person?”
He another sip of his drink. “We can’t choose who we fall in love with.”
“I could have chosen not to act on it, though,” I said.
“I know it’s hard because you still love him—and her, for that matter—but you didn’t really do anything wrong here. They were broken up. Alicia ended it. He didn’t leave her for you, and you didn’t cause their relationship to end. You took a chance on a love you’ve always harbored with a guy who’s always been there. What’s so wrong with that?” Jaime took a breath and continued. “And you forget there were two of you. You should tell him how you feel, Gigi. Don’t let him dictate the ending to this story if you want a different one.” He grinned and leaned over to muss my hair. “You’ll be okay, kiddo, I promise.”
I smoothed my hair back into place. “Kiddo? You’re only a few years older than me.”
“But decades wiser,” he said, winking.
The waitress brought our bill, and we continued to talk until we were interrupted by an obviously drunk couple who’d placed a bet on whether or not Jamie had been a contestant on Top Designer.
“What do you have riding on my answer?” Jamie asked them.
“If she wins, I have to buy her a shot. If I win, she has to go home with me tonight,” the guy replied.
“Which one of you thinks I was on the show?”
The guy pointed to the girl next to him. “She does,” he answered.
“Sorry to disappoint you. I’ve been told I look like the contestant from the show, but it wasn’t me,” Jamie responded.
“Sorry to bother you, dude,” the guy said, taking the girl by the hand and walking away.
“That was generous of you,” I said.
“Being on Top Designer should help someone get laid,” he joked. “Even if that person isn’t me.”
I leaned way over and gave Jamie a kiss on the cheek. “What a sad pair we are. What happened to the two young eager designers ready to take on the world?”
“We did reality television,” he said, laughing. “The exact moment we sold out is probably playing in the form of a Top Designer rerun marathon right now. But, darling, there’s always tomorrow,” he said, taking my hand to help me out of the booth.
“And after all, tomorrow is another day,” I said, finishing the famous quote from Gone with the Wind.
Gone with the Wind was Jamie’s favorite movie and a constant source of inspiration for him. Although his design school professors had advised him against it, he’d been adamant that his final show before graduation be inspired by the film. He’d proved all the skeptics wrong, sending the most incredibly outrageous hoop skirts and gowns down the runway. The original dresses had inspired his designs but he’d reconfigured them in such a way that they were completely fresh and new. The publicity he’d received from that show had garnered him both his job with The Gap and his spot on Top Designer—both career moves he wished he could take back.
“Promise? “I asked.
“Cross my heart,” he said. “Now let’s get you into a cab.”
Jamie and I staggered out of Schiller’s, and after trying to hail a cab for what seemed like hours, one finally stopped and agreed to take me all the way back uptown to my apartment. Jamie gave me a kiss on each cheek and made me promise to text him when I got home so he would know I was safe.
After a few minutes, the steady rocking of the cab began to lull me to sleep. I rolled the window down for some fresh air and fished around in my bag for my keys. As I dug deeper into the bag, my hand brushed against my phone. I yanked it out and, in my alcoholic haze, decided to break the one and only rule I’d established for myself during my virtually rule-free affair: no drunk dialing. Ever.
Drunk dialing, also known as a DUI (dialing under the influence) was the most pathetic of all possible acts someone could commit, but at that moment, I didn’t care one bit. I was drunk and Jamie’s words about not letting Joshua dictate the ending were reverberating in my head. I wanted to hear Joshua tell me—to reassure me—that even if he couldn’t be with me for all the reasons we’d agonized over for the last year, he at least recognized what he’d given up in letting me go, and would always be sorry for it. Before I could second-guess my decision, I dialed his number. He picked up on the second ring.
“Ali?” he said groggily.
I’d woken him out of a sound sleep, and he assumed it was Alicia calling him at this strange hour from Singapore. I stayed silent on the other end of the phone and waited for him to say her name again.
“Ali, is that you? Are you okay?” he repeated.
“It’s Gigi,” I answered.
He sounded more alert an
d awake. “Is everything okay? You never call me on this number.”
“Yeah, fine, everything’s fine,” I replied, my voice quivering.
“Gigi, what if Alicia answered my phone?”
“She’s in Singsapore—I mean, Singapore,” I said, slurring my words.
“Are you drunk?”
“I’m fine,” I answered. “Are you alone?”
“Of course I’m alone. As we just established, Alicia’s in Singapore. Sweetheart, this isn’t like you. What’s going on?”
The vodka acted like a truth serum. Finally, I had the courage to tell him the thing I’d hinted at, alluded to, and danced around, but never been able to say. “Choose me,” I said through trembling lips. “If you think you chose wrong, then choose me now.”
The minute the words came out of my mouth, I knew I’d put myself on a course from which there was no turning back. I swallowed hard and continued.
“Joshua, I’ve loved you ever since I was that homesick little girl whose hand you held all the way to Camp Chinooka. I know it sounds crazy, but even with all of our secrets, I’ve loved you more honestly than anyone in my life.”
Then, with my next sentence, I crossed our line in the sand. “I can tell Alicia now. I’m completely prepared for the consequences as long as I have you.” I inhaled deeply and waited for his response.
“Georgica, sweetheart. It’s so much more complicated than that.”
Déjà vu. I’d heard those very words from him before. I thought back to the previous summer, when we’d sneaked away for a weekend at my parents’ house in the Hamptons, while they were off visiting friends on Martha’s Vineyard. Since their house would be empty, we’d jumped on the Jitney and at the chance to escape reality and the hot and stifling city. The Hamptons was never really my scene, but my parents had achieved their dream of owning a beautiful and secluded home off Georgica Pond. It was an ideal locale for a couple looking for a weekend getaway.
Joshua and I had taken full advantage of our privacy and freedom, lounging by the pool all day, and then cooking gourmet meals and eating them on the patio at night. Our third night, after we finished putting away the dishes from our makeshift clam bake, we’d decided to go for a late-night soak in the hot tub beside the pool. We’d polished off our second bottle of champagne and were making out heavily in the water when I heard my father’s voice coming through the pathway that led from the front lawn to the back of the house. A few seconds later, my father had walked in arm in arm with a woman who was most certainly my age, if not younger. There’d been no way to hide from them, and they’d noticed us immediately. I pulled myself out of the hot tub and wrapped a towel around my waist. Joshua stayed in the water, completely silent.
