Carousel Nights (17 page)

To prove his point, the mass of people around them began to move in a messy human wave toward the front gates.

“Want to escape out a back entrance and walk on the beach while everyone else races to their cars?” Mel asked.

“Very tempting, but I promised Evie and Jack I'd meet them at the front. Mostly out of curiosity. We think today might be a park record. Curious to tally up the gate receipts and see what we've got.”

“Can I tag along or is it a Hamilton family secret?”

“Like we have any secrets from you.” June caught his hand. “Come on. We'll slip through the games warehouse and then go to the parking-lot party after that.”

Despite the dark, Mel's wide grin lit up June's night like stars, coaster lights and sparklers. He followed June to the small glass-walled office of the front gate ticket manager. Usually called “the bank,” the area was the front line for guests and ticket sales. It was also guarded by at least one Starlight Point police officer during operating hours and until the last guest exited the turnstiles. June joined her siblings near the corner desk, but Mel stood just outside the door talking to the guard.

“Forty-seven thousand five hundred,” Jack said. “An official record.”

“By just a little,” Evie said.

“Still counts. We can take that to our bankers. One more sign Starlight Point is on the right track.”

Evie scrolled through the calendar on her phone. “We meet with them next week. They'll want to know what the reasons are for our success and if it's sustainable.”

Jack sat at the desk and propped his feet on it, watching people stream out the gates. “Right now I'm just glad today's over. We can do math tomorrow after a good night's sleep and a half dozen doughnuts.”

“What do you think, June?” Evie asked. “What accounts for the extra sales this year?”

“Weather and fireworks.”

“How about live shows?”

“Hate to grab too much credit,” June said, “but my show was a real crowd-pleaser.”

“I saw it,” Jack added, closing his eyes and rubbing them. “From a distance mostly, but even I could tell how good it was. Very good. But I don't think it sold tickets.”

“Maybe not, but it kept people here longer,” Evie said.

“Fireworks did that,” Jack said. “Just like every year.”

“Hey,” June said, slugging Jack in the gut while his eyes were closed. “You're hurting my feelings.”

“Sorry,” he said, doubling up and clutching his midsection. “Just trying to think like a banker and not a big brother.”

“I like you better as a big brother.”

“When did you start thinking like a banker?” Evie asked. “You've been hiding that talent. I had no idea you had any business sense.”

Mel finished his conversation with the police officer, came through the glass door and sat on the edge of the desk.

“Good,” Jack said. “I need backup. My sisters are picking on me.”

“Can't help you there. I'm afraid of one of them,” Mel said. “Not saying which one.”

The police officer jerked open the glass door and leaned in.

“Fire. Games area by the temporary stage,” he said quickly, radio in hand.

“We were just there,” Mel said, instantly on his feet.

“Report of explosion, lots of smoke,” the officer continued, holding the door as Jack and Mel raced through it with Evie and June right behind them.

“Transformer blew, I bet,” Mel said, running alongside Jack, long legs flashing.

They passed several food stands, swimming upstream against a fleeing record crowd. Negotiating a sharp turn just before the Kiddieland motorcycles, they encountered smoke and confusion.

The four of them ground to a stop, struggling to see the source of the fire through the smoke. Security guards all around them forced onlookers back.

“Transformer right behind the big sign for the games strip,” Mel said, his breath coming hard and fast. “Bet it went up, that's the explosion people heard. Sparks hit those awnings, set 'em on fire.”

Whining sirens approached. June pictured the firefighters on duty back by the maintenance garage making the quick decision to drive on the rapidly emptying midway instead of taking the narrow road outside the gate along the beach. She hoped they'd hurry.

The entire strip of games—Skee-Ball, ringtoss, steeplechase—was alive with flickering lights illuminating the hanging prizes. Teddy bears, dragons, crazy hats, inflatable toys and plastic Starlight Point drinking cups swung from their hooks, ready to entice people out of their money, one or two dollars at a time. The games strip curved around and connected with a string of souvenir shops which then attached to the front gate area. A fire in any of the buildings threatened all of them.

June stood, paralyzed with fear. She flashed back to her six-year-old self tossing balls at bowling pins to win a stuffed dog, her father smiling as she knocked a whole array of pins off a table taller than she was.

The agony constricting her heart was a grim reminder of how dangerous it was to let herself fall in love with Starlight Point. It had such a powerful hold over her that she had only two choices: surrender or run.

This was not what she intended when she came home for the summer.

It was agony.

And there was only one thing that could make it worse.

“Got to hit the main breaker in there, shut it down, or we'll never get the fire out,” Mel said. “I'm going in.”

“I'll go with you,” Jack said.

“No, you won't,” a voice behind June and Evie said. June turned, wondering who was arguing with her brother and Mel.

A firefighter in full turnout gear looked absolutely huge in the flashing lights from the fire truck he'd just stepped out of.

“You—” he pointed at Jack “—stay out here and take charge of the scene. You—” he continued, pointing at Mel “—put on a helmet and help me shut this thing down.”

Mel grabbed a helmet from the other firefighter who was busy pulling hoses off the truck. He jammed it on his head and headed straight for the building with only half its lights flashing now.

“Wait,” June said. She grabbed Mel's arm. “It's too dangerous. I don't want you to go in there. You could be hurt or killed. It's not worth it,” she pleaded.

“It'll be okay,” the firefighter interrupted. “Flames mostly on the south side, and we're going just inside the north where the panel is. I'd do it myself, but I could use an expert.”

Mel gave June a long, searching glance and then went into the chaos.

June crossed her arms over her chest, trying to stop shaking. Jack draped his arms over both his sisters.

“Trucks from Bayside will never get here with the traffic mess. Hope those two can knock out the power so we can put this out,” Jack said.

“They shouldn't be in there,” June said, her voice quivering.

“I think they know what they're doing,” Evie said. “Ten seconds. Just count to ten and they'll have it shut down and be back out here.”

“You love numbers too much,” June complained.

But it was good advice. June started with ten and counted slowly backward. When she got to three, the whole building went dark. Only a faint orange glow came from the south side. She strained to see Mel and the firefighter come out.
Where were they?

“Grab a hose,” the firefighter on the truck yelled to Jack. “Power's out, so it's safe to hit it with some water.”

The firefighter trained a searchlight on the building, and finally Mel and the other firefighter walked out together, shielding their eyes from the bright light.

June ran to Mel and crushed him against her, only letting go to kiss him. Mel circled her with his arms and returned her kiss with equal passion. Until he suddenly stepped back and coughed into his shirt sleeve.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice raw. “It was smoky in there.”

“Are you all right?”

He nodded. “Fine. Just need some water.”

“I'll get you some,” she said, pulling back to run and find him a drink.

“Wait.” Mel pulled her close. “One more kiss. I've waited seven years for that, and I don't want to let you go now.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“I
DIDN
'
T
THINK
the
Roller Coaster Times
would do a story on us this year,” Evie said. “Since we don't have any new rides.”

“They loved the shows,” June said. “And they called my parade a ‘glittering new addition.'” The approbation meant more to her than she thought it would. After all, it wasn't a Broadway review magazine or a
New Yorker
article. It was just a magazine devoted to theme parks that happened to send a reporter who happened to see both her shows and appreciate them.

The article would run in the magazine's August edition, but the reporter had sent a preview of the story and a link to the magazine's website which ran a teaser.

Evie stood over June's shoulder and read the screen on her sister's smartphone. “Fresh and professional,” she said. “Those are nice things to say about the theaters. True, too. Plus they mentioned you. Look at that. The article says Starlight Point is lucky to have a co-owner with real Broadway experience.”

June felt another rush of pride.
And they didn't say she was formerly on Broadway.

“I'm going to have to start being nicer to you,” Evie said.

“Thanks.”

“They gushed about the steampunk show, which I admit I was afraid was too much for our usual audience. According to them, it evokes passion and emotion,” Evie continued. “Wow.”

“That's what I was going for when I came home this summer. Passion and emotion.”

“Just to be clear, we're still talking about the theaters, right?”

June pocketed her phone. “Of course.”

“Because I saw that kiss last night,” Evie said.

June felt her cheeks burning. “It was the heat of the moment.”

“Sure,” Evie said. “It was a tense night. A holiday and a major fire causing thousands of dollars of damage. I kissed at least three firefighters and one security guard.”

“Very funny. Maybe you should have a fling. Then you'd stay out of my business.”

“As your favorite sister,” Evie said, “I think you should talk to me about Mel.”

June sat on a bench by the midway fountain and watched summer maintenance and security staff set out poles and ropes to cordon off a large area where last night's fire had occurred. The state fire inspector was due any moment, and June and Evie were waiting for their brother while he scammed coffee and doughnuts from his wife's bakery. They knew from experience Augusta would send enough for all of them. Last summer there were some tough times with the food vendors, but Augusta's leadership had helped solve it. Marrying Jack in a Christmas ceremony had forged a permanent peace accord.

“I'm sure it'll officially be ruled an accident,” June said, viewing the scene of melted plastic overhangs and half-burned game prizes. The poor stuffed monkeys and gorillas. They were missing parts, still soaked from fire hoses, or charred.

“You'd officially rule kissing your old boyfriend an accident?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Not really. I never ditched my summer boyfriend to dance on Broadway and then came back seven years later and worked him over again.”

June swiveled to face Evie. “I'm not working him over. I've been totally honest about my plans.”

“Just like last time,” Evie said. “But I think he never really believed you'd leave all those summers ago.”

“I imagine he's learned from his mistake. Besides, he got over me then. He has a son to prove that. He'll survive me leaving again.”

“I never understood why he married that girl,” Evie said.

June cleared her throat. “I believe she was pregnant. See? He'd obviously moved on.”

“After a year went by.”

“You could look up some insurance reports or metrics or something. It might take your mind off my relationship with Mel,” June said.

Despite her cavalier tone, June felt like her sister was stabbing pins in every tender place in her body. Everything was practical to Evie. Accounts, ledgers, numbers. She couldn't possibly understand how complicated things were with Mel.

Evie crossed her arms and stood over June. “You think I don't get it, but I see what's going on. You want Mel, again, but not enough to give up dancing on Broadway.”

June blew out a breath and stretched her legs. “It sounds awful when you put it that way. Romance is a total flop when you try to look at it practically.”

Evie gave her sister a long look. “This reminds me of last summer. You were off tap dancing while I had to watch Jack fall in love with Augusta long before he was willing to admit it.” She sighed. “It was a real pain.”

“I'm not in love with Mel.”

She wasn't.
Was she?
No. This feeling was...complicated. She loved her family. And dancing. And carousel music. It was perfectly fine to love things. It was not the same as being in love with them.

“Well, good,” Evie said. “That's much simpler. So what are you planning to do?”

“I said I was staying until September, and I'm sticking to it. My friends wanted me to go back early and join the
Carousel
cast. It's a great opportunity, but I turned it down so I could fulfill my commitment to the family circus.”

“Don't act like a martyr,” Evie said. She flopped onto the bench next to her sister and put an arm around her shoulders. “You're too shiny for that role.”

June closed her eyes and soaked in the sunshine. Despite the smoky and musty smell emanating from the games area, it was a beautiful morning.

“My agent called while I was in the shower.”

“I know you're dedicated to your career, but you don't take your phone into the bathroom, do you? I think it voids the warranty.”

June laughed. “No. He left a voice mail.”

“Good news?”

She nodded. “The show I'm hoping for,
White Christmas
, has auditions in a few weeks. He got me a good audition slot.”

“There are good and bad ones?” Evie asked.

“This slot is for one of the major roles. Not just a chorus dancer. Have you ever seen
White Christmas
?”

Evie nodded. “I've seen the movie about a hundred times. Mom loves it. She always cries at the end when they sing the song.”

“Me, too. The stage show is similar. The role I'm hoping for is Judy, the sister of the main character. Since I can sing and dance, my agent thinks I have a shot.”

“That sounds like a major opportunity,” Evie said.

“It is. It's what I always wanted, where I always hoped I'd end up.”

“So,” Evie said. “Why don't you sound thrilled about it?”

June turned and studied her sister. Evie was only twenty-two. Smart and beautiful, she had a world of opportunities. But she was here. “What would you do if there were two things you wanted but you couldn't have both of them?” June asked.

Evie pulled her glasses and a slim laptop out of her bag. She perched the green-rimmed glasses on her nose and opened the computer. “I try to only want one thing at a time,” she said. “Right now I want to know where our brother is with my coffee.”

* * *

J
UNE
HEADED
TO
the hotel day care after it became clear the state fire inspector wanted to walk through the damage with only one person to minimize the risk. Lucky Jack. As the CEO of Starlight Point, he got the honors. June and Evie didn't mind missing out on burned plastic, charred stuffed animals and soggy everything on an otherwise perfect July morning. Evie had already pulled up their insurance policy and declared they should be all right. The fire was clearly an accident and unavoidable. That part of the park would be off-limits for at least a month, even with crews working throughout the night. But they would survive.

Instead of touring charred wreckage, June would spend the hour before the front gates opened at the day care, which would already be lively with kids. And kids are morning people.

June loved dancing, even if it was just in front of her bedroom mirror. Being on the Broadway stage as part of a group or even featured in a coveted solo spot had filled the corners of her heart for years. This summer, her heart was getting crowded. The theaters at Starlight Point, her family, her coworkers, Mel...especially Mel. And Ross. There was standing room only in her heart right now, and spending time at the day care only made it worse.

The kids were delightful. They danced with happy abandon, not caring who was looking. Never comparing themselves to others. No negative body images, no competition. It couldn't have been more different from the Broadway stage.

Everything about this summer, including the strength in her knee, was healthy—her whole environment was healthier than it'd been in a long time.

“Miss June's here,” Mrs. Nelson, the teacher at the day care, announced. “Put on your dancing shoes.”

June smiled. “We could go barefoot if you want. No rules in dancing. Although cowboy boots would probably be best for today's lesson.”

“Are we cowboy dancing?” one of the girls asked.

“Square dancing,” June said. “Partner up while we clear a big space.”

“I wish we could use one of the empty rooms on this floor,” the teacher said.

The hotel day care was housed in a closed wing of the hotel. The historic building was due for a major renovation, but because the money for such an extensive project was a shimmer in the distant future, they had opted last year to close the oldest wing most in need of renovation. It wasn't up to snuff for hotel guests, but the rooms and restrooms were functional. With fresh paint and carpet in four of the rooms, it made a nice day care for infants up to ten-year-olds.

However, each of the rooms was full. Cribs, toy boxes, or tables and chairs. Coatracks, puzzles, a plastic slide. The space was cluttered with the trappings of kids.

“I don't have a key to the other rooms,” the teacher said. “And I hate to bother the front-desk staff. I know they're probably busy with holiday guests checking out.”

“I don't, either,” June said. “I didn't want to haul around eighty-five million keys, so I only have the ones I typically use.”

“My dad has a key to everything,” Ross volunteered. “We could call him.”

Mrs. Nelson looked to June, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

June shrugged. “It's a good idea, but only if he happens to be close by.” She pulled a cell phone from her pocket and dialed.

“Do you want me to ask him?” Ross said.

June smiled. “I'll do it. That way if we're interrupting him, he'll be mad at me and not you.”

Mel answered on the second ring.

“World's greatest kisser,” he announced instead of saying hello.

June covered the phone and stepped into the hallway. “I'm at the day care, and I'm pretty sure fifteen children just heard you say that.”

“Well, I'm glad I didn't say world's worst kisser, then. I have some pride,” Mel said. His tone shifted to serious. “What's up at the day care?”

“Dancing lesson. But we're out of room. Do you have a master key that'll unlock the empty rooms down the hall?”

June heard Mel's hesitation. “They're probably damp and smelly. Maybe even mold. They've been closed for over a year.”

“We could check. If you have a minute to run over here.”

“I'm on my way up front to meet with Jack and the fire inspector. I guess the guy wants me to do a report, come up with inspection records, wiring schematics, stuff like that.”

“Thank you. That'll help our cause considerably.”

“It should be okay. I'm just getting in my truck. I can stop by the hotel on my way up front. But if those rooms are black-mold city, I'm nailing the doors shut.”

True to his word, Mel arrived five minutes later jangling a huge ring of keys.

Ross hugged his legs and followed him down the hall with June right behind them. “Don't get your hopes up, these closed rooms might be pretty gross.”

“This is cool,” Ross said. “I wondered what was down this hall.”

Mel started with the first room beyond the day care and shoved his key into the lock. He opened the door just enough to peek in. Musty air stole out through the crack.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked June.

“We're square-dancing. We need a big space.”

“Wait here,” he said and went in. June and Ross stood in the doorway. She kept her arm around his shoulders in case he was tempted to stray in before his dad gave the thumbs-up.

From her position at the door, the ancient room looked like she remembered it from her childhood. Dark blue carpet, beige walls, popcorn ceiling. The carpeting had seen better days, but the sun shone brightly through bare windows. All furniture and curtains had been removed, and the room seemed to be waiting for its chance to shine again. Maybe she should talk to Evie and Jack about doing the hotel renovation sooner rather than later.

“It's not bad,” Mel declared. “Safe to come in.”

June and Ross entered, and Ross ran around the perimeter as if it were a baseball field and he was running the bases.

“Kids love empty rooms,” Mel said. “One time I moved everything out of Ross's bedroom so I could repaint it, and he didn't want me to put things back in. Must be the novelty of it.”

“Life gets too crowded,” June said.

Boy, is that true.

“I'll open the window for some fresh air, and then I don't see why you can't use this for your do-si-do-ing,” Mel commented. “Just remember the water is shut off to these rooms, so the bathroom is off-limits.”

“Got it,” June said.

“Ross,” Mel said, catching his son's collar on his third time around the room. “Why don't you go down the hall and tell everyone to use the bathroom if they have to before they come on down for their dancing lesson with Miss June.”