by Beth Merlin
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.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I collected myself and went into the dining hall, where the banquet was well underway. I searched the room and saw Jordana sitting with most of the girls from Bunk Fourteen. She’d saved me a place next to her, and when I slid onto the bench, she pushed a plate of food toward me.
“I figured you’d want to get in your last bites of camp food,” she said, rolling her eyes.
I pushed the food around my plate until Gordy went up to the microphone and asked one of the kitchen staff to turn off the lights in the dining hall. Perry walked to the front of the room, where the large white viewing screen was set up. As the first picture flashed onto the screen, he brought his violin up to his chin and played the opening notes of ‘Rhapsody in Blue.’ He looked out into the audience, caught my eye, and winked right at me. It would always be our song. Then, he seamlessly transitioned over to his guitar and more current tunes, while dozens of photos appeared behind him.
The photography counselor had done a great job capturing so many moments from the summer. From Parent’s Weekend to Color War, rehearsals for Fiddler on the Roof, and the Rope Burn Battle, everything was there. Then, to my horror, Perry started playing Gershwin’s ‘Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off’ as a photo montage depicting our summer-long rivalry popped onto the screen. Finally, Perry played a slowed-down version of ‘Summer Nights’ as photos of Chinooka couples appeared on the screen. First up were Madison and Alex Shane, who had defied all the skeptics—me included—by staying together throughout the summer. I looked over at them. Madison was leaning back and into Alex Shane’s chest, watching the show. She’d never looked happier or more at ease with him. She finally believed what Alex Shane had known all along—she was special.
When the slide show was over, Gordy thanked Perry and invited him to join him at the microphone. Perry looked confused as he made his way to the center of the dining hall. Gordy put his arm around him and spoke. “For one-hundred summers, we’ve welcomed campers and staff through the gates of Camp Chinooka who’ve made it their home away from home. I’m sad to say this is the last summer one of our most beloved counselors will be making Chinooka his home. For four summers, Perry Gillman has been head counselor for Birch. He’s led his group to four Gordy Award wins and been our resident musician. Last week, Perry informed me he won’t be returning next summer so that he can really focus on his music career. I wanted to take the opportunity to personally thank him for always going the extra mile and being the living embodiment of what Chinooka spirit is all about.”
Perry was beet red. He thanked Gordy for his words, shook his hand, and tried to sit down.
“Not just yet, young man, we’re not through with you,” Gordy said, pulling Perry back up to the microphone stand. “We created this special trophy, the first actual Gordy Award, for you to take back to jolly old England and place on your mantle.”
Gordy presented Perry with a large cup, similar to the one awarded to the winner of the Kentucky Derby. It was large, flashy, and a bit pretentious. It was Gordy. Perry looked mortified but thanked him graciously.
Gordy turned more serious and continued, “Some of you here may not remember, but several years ago, we lost a member of the Chinooka family and someone close to Perry, Annie Brandeis. In honor of Perry’s years of service, and to honor the life of one of our former staff members, along with Annie’s parents, I’ve set up the Annie Brandeis scholarship. Each summer, one deserving child will be chosen by Annie’s parents to spend the summer at Chinooka free of charge.”
Perry looked genuinely touched. He pulled Gordy in for a hug, and they spent a few seconds in a tight embrace. Annie would live on at Chinooka. Perry wouldn’t have to keep coming back to make sure of that. Gordy had just given him the best gift of all—closure.
Perry hugged him one last time and took a seat next to me. He grabbed my hand under the table, and we joined Gordy and the rest of the camp in singing the Chinooka alma mater at the very top of our lungs.
After my final check that all the Cedar campers and counselors were in their cabins for the night, I made my way to Birch for the very last time. Perry was sitting alone on the rotted-out bench, throwing sticks into the fire just like he’d been doing on the first night when I showed up looking for the missing campers from Bunk Fourteen. I stepped on some dried leaves, and he turned to look at me.
“Announce yourself,” he said, squinting into the fire.
“It’s Georgica Goldstein, head counselor of Cedar, winning general of Color War, your one-time nemesis, and now, I hope, your always friend,” I said, approaching.
“You may enter Birch,” he said, standing up from the bench. “You just had to get in that last dig about winning Color War, didn’t you?” He pulled me into his arms.
“You’re the one who asked for my credentials,” I teased.
We sat down, and he added more wood to the dying fire. There was a definite chill in the air and he wrapped a blanket around me.
“Did you find her?” he asked, referring to Alicia.
“She was sitting in the large gazebo on the Great Lawn, waiting for me. It was a hard conversation, but all the skeletons are out of the closet.”
“Is the wedding on?”
I shook my head. “I think she needs some time to figure it all out.”
“And the two of you?”
“She needs some time to figure it all out, but I have a feeling we’ll find our way back.”
Perry wiped my teary eyes and held me in his arms. I used the back of my hand to wipe my face. Perry handed me a Kleenex from his pocket and I sat up.
“What is all this?” I asked, looking over at the big shopping bag by the fire.
“Before summer is officially over, I need your help with something,” he said, smiling.
“Anything,” I replied.
“I’ve never had a s’more.”
“You’ve spent four summers at Chinooka and never had a s’more? How is that even possible?” I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Are you going to help me or not?”
“Pass over the bag. Let me make sure you’ve got everything we need.”
I pulled out the marshmallows, a chocolate bar, and graham crackers. “Okay, we have all the necessary ingredients. Now we each need a stick.”
“I can do you one better,” he said, pulling two metal skewers with thick wooden handles from behind him. “I swiped them from the kitchen this afternoon.”
“Just follow my lead.” I loaded two marshmallows onto my skewer and placed it into the campfire. When the marshmallows turned from white to golden brown, we pulled them off the skewers and smashed them between the chocolate and two pieces of graham cracker, making a sweet, gooey sandwich.
“Ready for one of the best first bites you’ll ever have?” I asked.
“You may not want to hype it up too much. I’ve tried one of your Chipwich things,” Perry said with a wide grin.
“This is totally different,” I said. “Ready? One… Two… Three.”
We both took a bite at the same time, the marshmallow squeezing
out the sides of the graham crackers. “So? What do you think?”
He wiped some marshmallow from the corner of his mouth. “I think it’s better than I could have ever possibly imagined.” He finished off his last bite.
“Yeah?”
“Way better. In fact, I think I need another taste,” he said, going in for a kiss.
We polished off the bag of marshmallows and talked until the campfire went out. When the first streaks of morning light broke through, Perry walked me back to Cedar along the hidden path we’d made use of so many times before. He put his arm around me, and we stood together to watch the sun come over Lake Chinooka one last time.
Chapter Twenty-Two
For the first morning all summer, not a single girl complained when the alarm went off. All of them wanted to squeeze out every last possible second of camp. Some were even out of bed already, folding up the last of their things. The buses would start arriving in a few hours to take everyone home.
I only had a few things of my own left to pack. I wrapped up the alarm clock and placed it in my trunk. Then, I took one last look at the picture of Alicia and me that had been sitting on my nightstand all summer and carefully packed it away. When I was finished, Jordana sat down on the bed next to me.
“You okay?” she said, putting her arm around me.
“I will be. If I haven’t said it before, thank you for everything this summer.”
“Don’t mention it,” she said.
“No, really. You’ve been a great help, and more than that, a great friend.”
