Emerging from rows and rows of books and bookshelves, there were bright lights ahead. Television cameras wanted to record who this mysterious person was, the first to meet Manilow, not only here in Cheery Hill but on the entire book tour.. All sorts of people in suits and dresses, publishing people with Manilow's crew, were all gathered, crowded into the small store. I noticed Marc up ahead as I wheeled forward and he gave me a grin back. And there, standing behind a large walnut table, wearing a beige tweed suit and tie, was Barry Manilow.
My first thought was, "Wait! Shouldn't you be on an album cover?" He seemed taller in person.
He looked at me and cheerfully said, "Hi!"
"Hi, Barry!: I replied, wheeling to the table. Vicki was behind me a few feet, nearly fainting. Suddenly, like at school while taking a big exam, my mind went blank. Everything I planned to say, everything I practiced saying all night, went down the tubes. I stared ahead like the zombie I was. Cameras clicked everywhere around us .I swallowed hard.
We shook hands as Barry sat down. "What's your name?' Luckily I remembered. Barry was handed my book, and as he began signing the cover, I came to and knew this was my one and only chance to talk/
"'Barry, I have to tell you this real quick," I began, expecting security guards to handcuff me and drag me away at any moment.
"Sure, go ahead," He said, still signing.
"Well," I began, taking a deep breath, "I belong to the fan club and..."
}Oh, really?" he said, still signing.
"Yes, and they started a pen pal program to match fans who love your music. " I started talking fastter., trying to condense the entire relationship into ten seconds. "So, I wrote in, got a beautiful pen pal from Norway, and we met last summer."
"Great!" he replied, looking up and smiling, finally finished signing.
"Yeah, and she hopes to come back tafter graduation and who knows?" I stammered, coming to a dead-halt as if somebody pulled the plug.
"Great!" he said again, turning to his crew around him who were hovering nearby. "Did you hear that? Isn't that great? I love it when I can be involved."
"She says hi. Our dream is to see you together in concert."
"I'm sure you will, : he answered, grinning.
Why don't we just have lunch together, I could tell you the whole story, we talk music, and let everyone else go home? I thought. No such luck.
Then I blurted out a dumb question but one that seemed to make sense at the time."By the way, will you be playing in Oslo on this tour?
Never mind Philadelphia, but I supposed I had Jill on the brain.
"Who knows?" he said, shrugging, handing me back the book and shaking hands once more.
"I love your music," I tacked on, something original that he probably never heard before.
'Thanks," he replied, still beamimg. "Good luck!"
I turned to leave, thinking he had about enough of me,. On to the next five hundred people in line, starting with the hyperventilating Vicki standing behind me.
Suddenly he called back, "What's your pen pal's name?"
"Jill."
"Well, tell Jill I said hi," closing with a wave.
After almost running over several toes as I departed the scene, star-struck, I was ushered to the front of the store from whence I came. It happened so fast and then it was over. Waiting all night in the freezing cold for this all-too-brief, unforgettable moment. It was so worth it! That's what I told the reporters waiting for me outside.
That was my first chance to read the inscription on the book cover:
Gregg,
All Best,
Barry Manilow.
It took him that long to write that? It didn't matte if he spelled my name wrong.
Vicki came out next, breathless, gasping for air. She told Barry she had been outside all night. fighting a bad cold , just to meet him. "You poor thing!" he consoled. "Go home and take a Co-Tylenol and go to bed."
"I was this close to his nose!: she whined. "It was fantastic!" Her hubby just shook his head. "Let's go home," he suggested.
After they dropped me off and I saw my much-relieved mother, I called Jill, relating the entire adventure in a few minutes. She was happy for me, flattered that Manilow asked about her and happy I didn't forget her. How could I? She was everything to me.
Vicki said I sounded great on the radio the next morning, as reporters asked us questions. I didn't bother to get up. I always hated my voice, anyway.
Vicki and Chris got married the following May. The wedding was perfect, except for Manilow's absence. They soon had a baby boy, which, of course, was named Barry. I was his godfather at the baptism. We continued to be friends even after they moved to Florida to be closer to Disney World.
I sent Jill flowers that May for her birthday and to wish her well on both her upcoming exams and her next check-up. She later wrote that the cysts had disappeared. Even her doctors were amazed. Somebody up there liked us.
Jill's student loan finally came through. She needed to work part of the summer for expenses. We decided to meet again in August, this time for only two weeks before school cranked up again. Two weeks, although much shorter than our first vacation together, was better than nothing.
I was getting ready for my last semester at West Chester U. Most of my really difficult classes, like Spanish and Math were behind me now. I couldn't wait to graduate in December of 1988. There was so much to look forward to.
Jill got a job at a publishing company in Oslo. She loved it, and it was right up her alley since she was an avid reader. I missed her more than ever, and it was hard to believe it had been an entire year since we met.
This time we didn't drive all the way to New York. Jill thought it would be easier to catch the airport shuttle, which stopped a a hotel in nearby Valley Forge. That's where I saw her, all smiles, looking stunning as ever in a beige outfit. We didn't shake hands as before, Instead we hugged, the warm embrace I hungered for all winter.
It took Jill a little longer to adjust to the jet lag this time around. My late summer ragweed allergies were bad, so basically we did a lot of yawning and sneezing those first few days.
Since two weeks was so short, we decided not to do long day-trips this time. Instead she seemed satisfied with hanging out with me, the dogs and Mom at home.We hit the movies, our favorite Italian restaurant, played lots of Trivial Pursuit, and talked more about the future.
This was great, vacationing once a year, but we both knew this couldn't last. This was fantasy stuff. We had to share the everyday experiences that couples share, things that can make or break a relationship. We couldn't continue to live for only summer. How could we know our feelings were real if we were always so far apart?
Our situation was certainly different. Normal couples worry about money or what to have for dinner. We worried about visas and graduation and finding real jobs soon, things that were slowly creeping into our lives.
If Jill decided to be with me, her life would not be easy. She would share the stares, the pain and the hurt. She would also encounter obstacles- both physical and invisible- that I met daily. How could I ask her to share all of that? But that's what she told me she wanted, to be with me when the time was right.
Jill liked America and Phoenixville. She liked my family. Her English was often better than mine. Most of all she loved me. It made sense to eventually be together here, than in Norway.
The future was on my mind as yet another tearful farewell was at hand. We would work it out. Just never give up was always her encouragement to me. Missing her never got any easier. We planned to get together after graduation and go form there. Little did we know we would be meeting again sooner than planned, in a very special way.
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