by Beth Merlin
“Sounds proper to me.” I smiled.
He cocked his head to the side and smiled back. “Glad to hear it, Princess. See you later.”
The game was a complete bloodbath. The campers beat the parents with a final score of 14-3. When it was over, I went back to the cabin to check in on Jordana and the rest of the campers. Tara was showing her parents and boyfriend around when I walked in.
“Gigi, good. I’m glad you’re here,” she said, rushing over to me. “These are my parents, and this is my boyfriend, Brian.”
Brian was nothing like I’d expected. Based on Tara’s outrageousness, I’d pictured an alternative-type guy covered in piercings and tattoos. Brian was the complete opposite. He was wearing khaki shorts, a white polo shirt, and Docksiders. He looked like your average high schooler.
Tara had severely toned down her look for the day. Normally, she liked to tie her CIT T-shirt up in the middle so that her midriff showed and pair it with skimpy jean shorts. Today, she had her shirt untied with khaki shorts similar to Brian’s. Her hair, which she’d been highlighting all summer using lemon juice and Sun-In, was neatly slicked back into a ponytail.
“Nice to meet all of you,” I said, giving them a small wave.
Tara’s mother approached me. She was a petite woman who looked a lot like her daughter.
“So Tara’s told us she’s been like your right hand all summer?” she said sweetly.
I looked over at Tara, who looked nervous I was going to rat her out for who she really was. “Sure, yeah. She’s been a real help.”
Jordana walked into the bunk. “Who’s been a help to us?”
“I was just telling Tara’s parents how great it’s been having her as our CIT.”
Jordana looked at me like I was crazy.
Tara’s mother chimed in, “And she told us she’s been helping you make the costumes for the show.”
The closest Tara had come to helping me with the costumes for the show was when she begged me to make her a halter top out of some of the leftover lace fabric to wear out to The Canteen.
I nodded and smiled. Jordana made a face. Tara looked thankful I hadn’t told them most of her summer had been spent flirting with the male counselors and working on her tan.
“Okay, Gigi, we’re going to take a sailboat out before it gets dark. We’ll catch you later,” Tara said, ushering her family out of the bunk.
A few seconds later, Tara’s father came back inside.
“Forget something?” I asked, looking up at him.
“Just wanted to tell the two of you thank you. I know what a handful she can be,” he said.
Jordana and I looked at each other before she responded. “Not at all, Mr. Mann. She’s been a pleasure to work with.”
He looked relieved. After he left, I turned to Jordana and raised my eyebrows.
“You’re right. What’s the point? It’s camp. Let her be the bad girl here if she has to be the good one at home,” Jordana said.
“Well, it doesn’t sound like she’s exactly a good girl at home.”
“Did you catch a glimpse of her boyfriend, Brian? He doesn’t scream bad boy to me,” she said, changing from her Chinooka staff tank top into the long-sleeved version of it.
“Are you still okay to sit OD tonight?” I asked.
“I’m counting on them crashing hard from the sugar they’ve been gorging themselves on all day,” she said.
After visiting day, the counselors went around to the bunks to seize all the food that could attract animals. It typically ended up at The Canteen, where the counselors happily finished it off.
“I have my eye on some subs I saw in Bunk Eleven. I’ll make sure to bring them over to The Canteen for you,” Jordana said.
“I actually have a date with Perry tonight,” I mumbled.
She whipped around to face me. “You have what?”
“A date. He called it that. We’ll probably just hang out in his cabin.”
“Call it whatever you want, Gigi, but he asked you for plans alone, in advance. It’s a date.”
“Okay, assuming it’s a date, what should I wear?”
“Well, makeup, for a start,” she teased.
I appreciated Jordana’s not-so-subtle way of telling me my new beauty regime consisting of only tinted moisturizer and ChapStick wasn’t cutting it. “I’ll wear makeup. What about clothes?”
“I’d probably wear clothes. Although it’s Perry Gillman. Maybe not,” she said with a wicked smile.
“Very funny. A dress? Shorts? Pants?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “You’re the fashion guru.”
“What about this?” I said, pulling a white eyelet sundress out from my cubby.
“I love that,” Madison said, walking into the cabin holding hands with Alex Shane.
“Maddy, you know boys aren’t allowed in the bunk,” Jordana chided.
“He just wanted to see what it looked like. Please, Jordana. It’s technically still Parents’ Weekend, and boys are allowed in the bunk during Parents’ Weekend.”
Jordana sighed. “You have five minutes.”
I was happy to let Jordana be the disciplinarian so I could pull a few more options from my shelves. I held different combinations up to myself in the full-length mirror in the bathroom before firmly deciding on the sundress with flat gold sandals. After Jordana kicked Alex out of our bunk, Madison sat down on my bed to recount the rest of the events from her day. As she prattled on and on, I felt that same rolling fluttering feeling in my stomach I used to feel with Joshua. I guess it really was a date?
Dinner that night was a picnic on the Great Lawn. The dining room staff put out a spread of sandwiches and chips for anyone who wanted it. However, most of the campers and staff were too full from stuffing themselves with junk food all day to eat anything. Instead, everyone hung out on the grass until it was time for them to go to their own divisions for lights out.
While the rest of the camp was busy socializing I quickly showered and let my hair air dry. I applied some light makeup and put on the sundress. When I was ready, I took the secret route behind the lake over to Perry’s cabin. I didn’t want to unintentionally create any more fodder for the camp gossip mill. When I reached his cabin door, I looked around to make sure nobody was around. Then, I took a deep breath and straightened my dress before I knocked. It seemed like an eternity before Perry answered.
“Wow,” I said, peeking in and around at his cabin, which was aglow with lit candles.
“Wow, yourself. You look beautiful, Gigi. Tonight’s been a long time in the making, and I wanted it to be perfect.”
“I’m not sure I believe in perfect anymore,” I said.
“Well, I’ll just have to work on changing your mind, then.”
He motioned for me to come inside, and I followed him into the main room. It looked completely different. The sheets of music that had been scattered around the floor the night before were piled on the bookshelf in neat stacks, and the records all organized and lined on the shelf. The table was set for two with plates, glasses, and flatware he must have swiped from the dining hall. Perry pulled a chair out and motioned for me to sit. I placed my paper napkin in my lap and watched as he unscrewed the top of the wine bottle before pouring two glasses.
“Screw top. Very classy.”
“Only the best for you, Princess,” he said, carrying the glasses over to the table.
He handed one to me and then lifted his glass to make a toast. I raised mine to meet it in the air. Perry cleared his throat and said, “Let those now love, who never loved before. Let those who’ve loved, now love the more.”
“Emerson? Keats?” I guessed.
“Abe Gillman. My father. Although I’m sure he stole the line from someone,” he said.
I took a sip of the wine and noticed he hadn’t touched his own drink. “You know, it’s bad luck not to drink to your own toast,” I teased.
He looked at me solemnly and said, “I gave up drinking after the
accident.”
I thought back to the night he’d found me at Rosie’s, pounding back tequila shots. I blushed, thinking how immature it must have looked to him. “I don’t need to drink either,” I said, pushing my glass aside. “So what can I help with?”
“Nothing. Take a seat. I have this under control.”
I sat back down at the table and waited for him to bring the food over. He looked relaxed in a loose-fitting pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, and bare feet. He hummed as he skillfully moved around his small kitchen. He announced everything was ready and served us each a slice of the pizza and some salad before sitting down across from me. I picked up my fork and knife and starting cutting bite-size pieces of pizza.
“In the UK, we usually pick our pizza up, like this,” he said, folding the slice in half and taking a bite.
“We do that in the US too, just not in the Goldstein house,” I said, putting down my cutlery and following suit.
He smiled and leaned toward me. “Tell me more about life in the Goldstein house.”
“Not much to tell. You met my mother earlier. That should give you the first clue.”
He laughed, exposing his adorable dimples before turning more serious. “Okay then, tell me more about the ex. What’s the bloke’s name?”
The directness of his question caught me a bit off guard. I put my pizza down and answered, “Joshua.” He repeated the name as if saying it out loud might give him some better insight into the man.
“What was her name?” I asked.
“Annie.”
I repeated Annie’s name for the same reason. Suddenly, it felt as though there were four of us crowded around his very small kitchen table.
“She was a counselor in Cedar?” I asked.
“Yes. She was actually Michelle’s counselor back when Michelle was a camper.”
That explained his close relationship with Michelle. She was a link to someone he’d loved and lost. Of course, he would cling to her as a way to hold onto his feelings for Annie. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over me. The rumors about him and younger counselors made complete sense now. They’d all been Annie’s campers years ago. They knew Annie and could corroborate his memories of her.
Perry stood up to clear the table. I motioned for him to sit back down and he slowly slid back into his chair.
“That night in the arts and crafts cabin when I was fitting you for your costume, you asked me if I was over Joshua,” I said.
“I remember.”
“I never answered you.”
“Your tears did Gigi. I understand.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“Then explain it to me,” he said, taking my hands into his own.
“I met Joshua at Chinooka. We spent seven summers as campers here—me, him, and Alicia. The three of us were inseparable and at some point along the way, I found myself Joshua’s sounding board. He came to me anytime things with Alicia were the least bit rocky and I’d fix whatever was going on. I should’ve taken myself out of the equation, but I liked that he needed me.”
Perry chewed on his bottom lip and waited for my next sentence.
“It was a childhood crush that turned into an adult infatuation. Then Alicia left for London and decided she wanted a break from Joshua.”
“That’s when the two of you got together?”
I nodded. “We started spending more and more time together. Suddenly, I found myself in a relationship with Joshua and not on the sidelines of his and Alicia’s. It was wonderful and fun and exciting, but in the back of my mind I knew I was a placeholder.”
Perry reached up and pushed my hair behind my ears. “You could never be a placeholder, Gigi.”
“I’m not trying to be self-effacing. I’m not saying he didn’t care for me, or even that he doesn’t still in some way. But because of the dynamic the three of us had—the one I allowed for so long—I was an easy surrogate for the person he was meant to be with.”
“Are you sure that you’re not still in love him?”
“I’ve spent my life chasing a mirage. It almost destroyed me,” I said, looking down.
Perry lifted my head up so we were eye to eye. “Gigi,” he said softly, “I don’t want to win by default.”
“I’m not playing a game.”
“Good.” He kissed me softly. “Neither am I.”
After we finished eating, we moved to the couch and continued revealing new things about our pasts, both of us coming clean about our mistakes and culpability. As good as it felt to finally be so honest with someone without self-reproach or shame, I worried maybe we were just two moths being drawn to equally damaged flames. But over the next few hours, the conversation shifted, and we became just two people getting to know one another.
Perry told me about his childhood in Oxshott and more about his father, who’d just retired following an illustrious career as a first violinist with the Vienna Philharmonic. I learned about the years he spent studying at the Royal College of Music and the writer’s block that was currently preventing him from completing his doctorate. I told him funny stories from when I was a camper at Chinooka, about being on Top Designer, and my dream to one day start my own line.
When we finished clearing the dishes, Perry led me away from the table to the back porch, which overlooked Lake Chinooka. I leaned over the railing and looked out onto the lake. The sun was setting, casting an amazing red-orange hue over everything. “Nice view,” I said, admiring the serenity of the scene.
“I agree,” he said, gazing at me. He stepped toward me and pulled me in for a deep kiss. Although we’d already spent the night together, in a way, this was the most intimate moment we’d shared so far. I retreated from his grasp.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
I’d convinced myself that the feelings I had for Joshua were incomparable and extraordinary. It was the only justification I could come up with for betraying my friendship with Alicia, and now that Perry had shattered all that reasoning, I had no excuse for what I’d done.
“I don’t deserve to be this happy,” I said.
“Happiness is a gift. Neither one of us planned for this. If anything, we both fought like hell to stop it from happening. But, here we are, and for the first time in a long time, I want to be happy. So let’s be happy, Georgica. Whether it’s just for tonight, for a few days, or a few weeks. Let’s try to be happy.”
I nodded and nuzzled into his chest. There was a cool breeze coming off the lake, and goose bumps formed up and down my arms. Perry went inside and brought me out one of his sweaters. I slipped it over my dress, and, together, we watched the sun set over Chinooka.
“Pretty perfect,” I whispered.
“I thought you didn’t believe in perfect?”
“I don’t know what I believe anymore.”
“Let’s take it one day at a time while you try to figure it out.”
“Deal.”
Chapter Sixteen
As the summer wore on, our relationship eased into a comfortable routine. Perry and I’d been the hot topic around Chinooka for a few weeks, but eventually, the campers grew tired of talking about us and moved on to some of the other couplings. Jordana started officially seeing Jake. Their on-again, off-again romance took some of the spotlight off of us, something Perry and I were grateful for. Although Gordy had given us his blessing, we still tried to stay under the radar. Neither one of us went to Rosie’s or The Canteen, preferring to spend our nights off in his cabin—me working on finishing the costumes for the show, and him working on his thesis.
We were just about tied with Birch in points for The Gordy, and the Cedar girls believed I could lead them to victory for the first time in three summers. Color War, a three-day competition where the entire camp was divided into two teams, would be breaking out any day and would determine the final winner. Color War always broke out with a surprise. Gordy spent months planning it. Leading up to the actual breakout were a series of fake-outs meant to psych th
e kids up even more.
Last year, Gordy had played the sound of a helicopter over the PA system, and when the campers ran out to the tennis courts, they’d found a huge banner that said “Fake Out.” This summer, the kitchen staff put blue and yellow food coloring in the milk at breakfast so the kids believed they were being divided into teams based on the color milk they were given. Once everyone got their glass, Gordy went up to the microphone and screamed “fake out” at the top of his lungs.
After all the fake-outs, the campers were completely on edge waiting for the real Color War to begin. For weeks now, “One, Two, Three, Four, we want Color War,” had been heard echoing around Chinooka.
Then, it finally happened. The whole camp was seated for dinner when two men dressed in medieval costumes and carrying heralding trumpets walked into the dining hall. They blasted out a tune and announced everyone was to report to the soccer field. The campers took off running, knowing this was finally the real thing.
Gordy had the floodlights on and positioned so they created a spotlight in the middle of the athletics field. It was eerily silent, and then, suddenly, music started playing over the camp’s loudspeaker system. Gordy always had a flair for the dramatic. When I was a camper, he and the head of the woodshop had worked all summer, making the façade of a pirate’s ship to attach to one of the larger sailboats in the lake. All the campers had stood on the shores of Lake Chinooka as he sailed up in a replica of the Jolly Roger from Peter Pan to announce the breakout of Color War. The theme that year was Pirates vs. Indians. Alicia and I had both been captains, leading the Indian team to victory.
As the music grew louder and louder, we all looked around, wondering what kind of a surprise Gordy had in store for us this summer. Then, two knights on white horses rode into the soccer field from opposite sides. Both of them carried banners—one blue and one gold. The gold banner had the word “Heroes” written on it, and the blue banner said “Villains.” The horses approached the center of the field and stopped so they were facing one another about 50 yards apart. Then, the knights—in full period regalia—charged at one another, screaming out what was on their banners. After a few more passes, stepped to the center of the field dressed up like a medieval king and asked them to halt their match. The whole camp was on their feet, wondering what would happen next.
