Carousel Nights (15 page)

“You wore a pink dress,” Mel said.
Crap
. His mouth betrayed him before his brain remembered to tread easy.

June's face colored and she put down her spoon. “I'm going to refill my drink,” she said.

Maybe he'd gone too far
.

“Is she mad we Googled her?” Ross asked after June walked to the beverage counter.

Mel shook his head. “I don't know, but we should probably talk about something else when she comes back.”

June returned with a full glass of iced water. “Thirsty,” she said. “All that dancing.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Ross went back for a fresh plate and another stab at the kids' buffet area.

“So you stalked me online,” June said, a forkful of salad poised in midair. “Did you watch any videos of my favorite show,
Pippin
?”

Mel nodded. “Are you mad?”

Her eyebrows drew together as if she was thinking about her answer. Mel held his breath. “No,” she finally said. “Just surprised. It's nice and I...didn't expect it.”

Mel glanced over to the kids' buffet area and noticed Ross carefully using the tongs to put more mini corn dogs on his plate. He was well trained.

He turned his attention back to June. “I tried watching
Pippin
. I liked the music, but I couldn't understand what the heck was going on,” Mel confessed.

“Here's the thirty-second summary. A young man thirsts to see the world and whatever is out there for him. He doesn't want to settle for the life his parents have planned for him. So he goes on a journey and discovers—”

She stopped.

“What does he discover?” Mel prompted.

Ross careened back to his seat, flopping down with a full plate of corn dogs and Tater Tots, some of which rolled onto the table.

“Looks like you're getting your money's worth,” June said.

Mel laughed. “Ross is eating your share. Are you sure you only want soup and that tiny salad?”

“I have one more show tonight, and I don't think I can dance on a stomach full of heavy carbs.”

Mouth full, Ross nodded agreeably. “One time I ate too much and threw up in the car on the way home.”

Mel reached across the table and took Ross's plate. “Maybe we should cut you off.”

“I should go,” June said. “It's not long until the next show.”

“Want me to empty your tray for you?” Ross asked.

“Sure.”

The boy picked up June's empty tray and headed for the trash and tray station.

“He doesn't sit still for long, does he?” June asked.

Mel shrugged. “He's a five-year-old boy. I have no idea how school is going to go this fall. He's just starting kindergarten since he has a July 29 birthday. I could have pushed him to go last year, but I wasn't ready to give him up yet.”

“I can understand that,” June said.

Could June really understand what it was like to love someone so much it was like sharing one heart?
That's how Mel had felt the moment he held his son for the first time. If June hadn't left seven years ago...if Ross was their son...

That line of thinking was so tempting, but so pointless. Dangerous.

“I know you're booked solid tomorrow and the next day with five shows,” Mel said, “but when the dust settles, would you like to do something together? Adults only?”

Living dangerously...

June stood.

She was going to say no.

“Sure. We'll talk in a day or two when I can breathe again.”

Maybe June didn't feel what he felt—that he could only breathe when he was with her.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I
T
WAS
BITTERSWEET
, getting ready to dance her last show. Brooke was due back tonight and would step into her role tomorrow, just two days ahead of the big July Fourth holiday. As far as June knew, this show would be her last time taking the stage at Starlight Point.

She felt wonderful. The audience would be close enough to touch. The familiar stage, worn by time, was every inch a part of her. June almost hated to hand the spotlight back to Brooke, but it was time she took up her other responsibilities. The parade, managing the theaters and helping her siblings run Starlight Point had suffered as she'd danced five shows a day for the past four days.

Fifteen minutes before June went onstage, Megan found her backstage. “There are three people out front who say they know you. Friends from New York.”

“Really? Did they give their names?”

“Cassie, Macy and Ian.”

What?
Her three best friends, the only solid ones she had in New York, were all doing off-Broadway work for the summer.
What are they doing here?

“Are they seated in the audience?”

“Front row,” Megan said. “When I told them you were subbing in for a dancer, they said they wanted to see the show and they'd meet up with you after.”

Okay, now she was nervous as a first-year dancer. She loved her friends, but just thinking about having them in the audience raised her heart rate. What if they thought her show was amateurish and small town? Compared to Broadway...well, it wasn't fair to compare summer theater in the Midwest with the shows on Times Square.

They were her friends. They were not going to judge her.
But why are they here at Starlight Point?

The curtains opened, the music started, and June took the stage with the other ten dancers. Although she tried not to look, she saw her friends in the front row. Smiling and watching her every move. Of course they would know the music, recognize some of the dance steps even. June had been in
Cats
with Macy,
Oklahoma!
with Ian,
Hello, Dolly!
with Cassie, and they were all in the recent revival of
Pippin
as troupe dancers. They shared the same talent agent, which was probably the reason they often ended up in shows together. In the crazy competitive world of Broadway, they'd become friends, watching out for each other. June shared a small apartment with Cassie but hadn't talked with her in weeks.

As soon as the show ended and the audience cleared, June peeked out the curtain. They were waiting near their seats. She rushed out and hugged them all.

“What are you doing here? I didn't think any of you had ever been west of Manhattan,” June exclaimed.

“Research,” Macy said. “Guess what show just announced a casting call?”

“Carousel,”
Ian gushed.

“You were supposed to let her guess,” Cassie admonished him.

June laughed. “I already knew. Our agent called me. He seemed to think I was a shoo-in for a musical that involves an amusement park.”

“But?” Ian asked. “I hear a
but
.”

“But the casting call is next week and rehearsals start in a month,” June said. “I can't do it. I've committed to being here through September.”

Cassie put her arm around June. “We're here to talk you out of that.”

“I thought you were here for research.”

“That, too,” Macy said. “How about a ride on the carousel and then you come over to the hotel for drinks? We only have two days off from our off-Broadway
South Pacific
and we want to have some fun.”

“What hotel are you staying at?” June asked.

“Yours. The old fancy one on the beach,” Ian said.

“The Lake Breeze? I happen to know the bartender there and he'll take good care of us. You guys can stagger back to your rooms and I'll find my way home somehow.”

“Home?” Cassie asked.

“My parents' house is just across the main parking lot. It's my home for the summer. Don't worry,” June said. “I'll be back on Times Square in the fall.”

Guests strolled the midway on the hot July evening. Because most of the park patrons who stayed late were adults and teens, the line for the old-fashioned carousel contained only a handful of people.

“We can ride twice,” June suggested.

“Once will probably be enough for me,” Ian said. “We're just trying to get the flavor.”

He mounted a painted horse next to June.

“You could have gotten the flavor a lot closer to New York City. There's a carousel in Central Park,” she said. “You had to fly into Detroit and rent a car to get here.”

Cassie took a horse on the other side and shrugged. “Summer vacation. And we get to see you.”

June suspected there was more to the story. After a few drinks at the hotel lounge, she imagined her friends would try convincing her to give up Starlight Point for an early return to the city. The carousel lurched into action and June and her friends filled a row going up and down on their fancy horses. It was the first time June had been on the carousel in years even though she heard the music all day, every day. It was fun holding on to the shiny pole and getting a cinematic view of the front midway.

Perhaps it was the lights and the movement that made her heart lurch when she thought of leaving in eight weeks.

* * *

M
EL
SUPERVISED
BATH
and bedtime, making sure Ross put on clean pajamas and brushed his teeth. He shut out the light in Ross's room and headed to the small kitchen for a cold beer to keep him company while he mellowed out in front of the television.

He sunk into a recliner and picked up the remote, hoping he'd recorded his favorite home-renovation series. Before he even found the recorded shows, shrill ringing from the kitchen interrupted him.

Rats. The stupid cell phone was on the metal table, a table that amplified the noise. If Ross was already asleep, it would wake him. Mel shot out of his recliner and grabbed the phone, silencing the ringer. He didn't want to answer it, but the caller ID told him it was his right-hand man at the Point. Galway wouldn't call unless something major was going on.

“Hello,” he said.
Don't make me put on my shoes and come over there
.

“Sorry to bug you. False fire alarm at the hotel, and the damn thing won't shut off. I think it's an electrical spike triggering it. Or something electrical.”

“That's too bad. I just took off my shoes and opened a beer,” Mel said.

“Very funny. My wife will come and sit with Ross so you can get over here. I already called her,” Galway said.

Mel blew out a breath.

“As soon as she gets here, I'll get on the road.”

Galway lived three blocks from Mel, and this wasn't the first time his wife, a retired nurse, jumped in to help with Ross when Mel got called to an emergency. Mel's parents would also help, but he hated to run them over when they were probably side by side in matching recliners watching PBS. Ross probably wouldn't wake up, and if he did, he knew Mira Galway and liked her.

Mel pulled on his work boots and laced them. He didn't bother to change into a Starlight Point maintenance uniform. His loose jeans and T-shirt were good enough to go behind the scenes and check the electrical panel at the hotel. He even skipped the company name tag.

He switched on the outdoor light for Mira and waited until she was safely in the house and he heard the lock click. Another late night for him. Even if it was a quick fix, he'd stay on scene at the hotel for at least an hour to make sure he'd knocked out whatever was triggering the alarm. Hotel guests outside in their pajamas was not part of the customer service package the Point wanted people to remember.

At least it was a hot night. He drove straight to the hotel, taking the curves on the Old Road as quickly as he could without compromising the safety of oncoming cars. The lights of the coasters and rides flashed and chased on his right as he rounded the peninsula.

Parking in the loading dock area, he strode quickly to the control panel room. This had happened before, last year, so he knew where to start. Galway had the panels open, a look of satisfaction on his face.

“Called you too soon,” he said. “Think I got it—”

The fire alarm mounted on the wall pierced the room with noise and strobe lights.

“Maybe not,” Galway shouted.

Mel opened the battery backup panel and motioned for Galway to shine a light inside. In less than five minutes, Mel found the faulty electrical circuit that triggered the alarm. The system was set up to default to battery in the event of power loss, but a faulty switch wrongly attributed a loss of power to an actual alarm.

“Got it,” Mel said. He jumpered the switch and the alarm silenced. “Have to make a more permanent fix after we get a new switch, but it should shut this thing up for the night. Hope we have one in maintenance.”

“I'll go look,” Galway said. He peered at the switch, took a quick picture with his cell phone and headed for his pickup also parked in the loading zone.

Mel wandered over to the lobby, original to the century-old hotel. Gleaming hardwood floors, wicker furniture, a carousel horse in the center. Jack, in his usual business suit, stood at the check-in desk talking with the night manager.

Soothing ruffled feathers among the hotel guests. Not a fun job.

Mel gave Jack a thumbs-up but didn't approach the desk. Not wearing a uniform or a name tag, he didn't have to listen to complaints or officially represent the company tonight. He could hide out on the patio and hold his breath, hoping the alarm was finished for the night. When Galway texted, he'd meet him in the control room and fix the problem for good.

Guests milled through the doors, some of them in bathrobes and bare feet. The hotel lounge had also been evacuated with the fire alarms, and guests were strolling back in from the beach with glasses of wine and beer in their hands.

One of the guests was tall with long brown hair. She held a glass of wine and walked so closely with her friends they bumped hips and shoulders as they headed inside.

Who were those people with June Hamilton? He'd never seen them around Starlight Point. They didn't look like summer workers. Their clothing and hair was too...flashy and fancy—even the man in the group who had his arm around June.

Would June take her eyes off her friends long enough to see him as he stood by a pillar just off the lobby?

Laughing, June set her wineglass on a table for four and sat with her friends. The two women with June were blondes in two shades, very slender and pretty. The man was average height and rail-thin. His tight red jeans were rolled at the ankle and he wore loafers with no socks.

Mel glanced down at his faded Levi's and boots. Maybe he should go back to the control room and wait for Galway.

Just as he resolved to slink through the lobby and hide, June glanced up and saw him. She stopped midsentence and stared, wineglass in hand.

She crooked a finger and beckoned to him, inviting him to her table.

Bad idea.

He did it anyway. As he approached, he noticed June's friends turning to look at him. They probably wondered who or what June was staring at.

June stood. “Hi, Mel.”

“Hello.”

“I'm guessing you're here because of the fire alarm,” she said.

“Almost fixed. Galway went to the shop for a part and then we'll get it done for good.”

“Thanks.” She gestured to the other people at the table. “These are my friends Cassie, Macy and Ian.” She pointed them out individually as she said their names and Mel shook hands with each. “They're from New York City. We became friends working together on Broadway.”

“You're all dancers?” Mel asked.

They nodded.

“We're here to drag June back with us,” the man, Ian, said. “She's burying her talent here.”

Mel turned to June. “You're leaving?”

“Of course not,” she said quickly. “I'm staying all summer. Just like I said.”

It sounded like she was protesting a little too much. Maybe he was just afraid to follow this train of thought. Letting himself get close to June the past few weeks, he'd told himself he still had two months before she left.

Not if she changed her mind and left early. There was, technically, nothing stopping her.

“Now that your knee is better,” the blonde to June's right said, “there'll be nothing stopping you from getting a great part.”

June's face flushed even brighter, uneven spots coloring it, and she gave her friend a look that said
shut up.

She had a knee injury?
She'd never mentioned that. The other two people at the table looked surprised, too. What else had June not shared with him? His mind flashed to that painfully thin dancer they'd driven to the hospital. What kind of world was Broadway?

A world where he obviously didn't belong.

“Have a drink with us,” one of the blondes offered.
Is she Cassie or Macy?
Didn't matter. He wasn't going to get to know them. Especially after they bundled June off to Broadway and never looked back.

“No, thanks,” he said. “I have to get back to work.”

“You work here?” the other blonde asked.

Cassie or Macy must not have followed the earlier part of the conversation.

Mel nodded. “Head of maintenance at Starlight Point.”

“The whole thing?”

“Yes.”

“So that's how you know June,” Ian said.

Like he needed to explain to these strangers that he'd actually known June since he was seven. But how much water would that hold when compared to Broadway and the fancy life this trio seemed to represent?