Carousel Nights (20 page)

June shrugged. “I don't know yet. I have to wait to hear from my agent. There will almost certainly be callbacks since I wasn't the only one who wanted that part.”

“When will you know?”

“A few days, I think. I'm hoping for a callback. Pins and needles until then.”

“Good thing you have plenty of things to keep you occupied while you wait.”

They drove in silence a moment.

“How is your knee?” Evie asked.

June's breath caught. “What makes you ask that?”

Evie shrugged. “You left your laundry in the dryer. I hauled it to your room and put it away for you.”

June didn't say anything. What was the harm in confiding to Evie now that it was better?

“I'm nice like that,” Evie continued. “You're welcome. So, anyway, there was a knee brace and one of those microwave heating pad things. In addition to being angelic in nature, I'm also perceptive.”

“My knee is fine,” June said. “Now. I'll admit it. One of the reasons I came home this summer was to rest my knee. All that dancing takes its toll.”

“Full-disclosure time,” Evie said. “How bad was it?”

June watched streetlights out the side window for a moment. “I saw a specialist in New York. The same one who sees all the dancers. Knee problems are as common on the stage as blisters are at the Point. He said I should take it easy for a few months. And then see how it is.”

“So you didn't come home to revive the theaters totally out of the goodness of your heart,” she said.

“I never said I did.”

“True, but I wondered. Either way, it's been good to have you home. The theaters are amazing. And your knee is apparently ready to take you back to Broadway.”

“It is. Filling in for Brooke a few weeks ago was a big test for me.”

“I'm glad you passed the test. If you ever decide to come home for good, I want it to be because you want to. Not because you have to.”

“Me, too,” June said without thinking. Did she really just say that?

Evie glanced at her but didn't say anything.

June cleared her throat. “Anyway, if my knee can survive the miles of walking at the Point every day, I believe I'm good to go for another season on the big stage. Starlight Point is a one-hundred-day marathon every summer. I don't know how you do it.”

“I plan to hibernate all winter and store up my energy,” Evie said. “I don't know why I didn't think of it last year.”

June pictured herself hibernating in Mel's dangerously comfortable recliner. She might climb out of it every now and then to build a snowman with Ross or drive him to school.

What was she thinking? She'd just flown in from her audition and she was dreaming about settling down back where she'd started?

She had to get a grip.

“What's the news on the insurance situation from the fire?” she asked, hoping a practical matter would slap some sense into her.

“Good news,” Evie said. “The state fire marshal took a few weeks to make his official ruling and do the paperwork, but the fire was judged accidental. Just like we knew it was.”

“So this means we can go ahead with rebuilding?”

Evie nodded. “Jack and I are meeting with the planners next week to talk about the design. Since we have to rebuild it anyway, we have the opportunity to change it a bit.”

Something about changing Starlight Point made June's heart sink. “I liked it the way it was,” she said.

“Since when do you want things to stay the same? Aren't you the one who wanted to change the theaters at the beginning of the season?”

June shrugged.

“The games area is tacky,” Evie declared.

“You just hate the games in general,” June said.

“Absolutely. People throwing money away for a chance at a cheap toy. I swear I'll never understand it.”

“It's the thrill,” June said.

Evie scoffed.

“Taking chances is exciting and dangerous.” She should know.

“Foolish,” Evie said. “People are too anxious to toss away what they have in hopes of something better.”

Even though June knew her sister wasn't directly talking about her, the words cut deep. She stared out the window as the road took her closer to her hometown.

CHAPTER TWENTY

T
EN
DAYS
AFTER
the summer storm, the ballroom was ready for hundreds of employees anxious to blow off steam—thanks to Virginia Hamilton's exuberance and touch of eccentricity. July 25. Christmas in July.

“You like it?” Virginia asked.

“It's sparkly,” June said, an approving smile lighting her face.

“And on budget,” Evie added.

“The snack tables look fantastic,” Jack said. “Gus has been busy, and so have the other vendors.” He bent low, kissing his mother on the cheek. “You're amazing. And people are going to have a great time.”

“Beginning with dance lessons,” June said. “Party starts at ten thirty as soon as the park is clear, but lessons start at nine for anyone interested and available. I hate seeing bad dancing, people just flailing their arms and shuffling around the floor.”

“Are you teaching?” her sister asked.

June nodded. “Me and some of my summer crew. Their last show is at seven, so they can be here.”

“I heard you've been giving private lessons to Mel Preston,” Virginia said.

June rolled her eyes.

“Maybe I just assumed that's what you've been doing those...uh...three late nights you were out in the last week.”

“Two.”

“Maybe the other one was just past my bedtime,” her mother said.

Jack stuck his fingers in his ears and looked at the ceiling.

“Back to the dance lessons,” June said.

“That's what I was talking about,” Virginia said. “Teaching Mel some excellent moves. Makes me wonder what you two are going to do about your...tango.”

June hated the way this conversation sounded in the cavernous ballroom with her whole family standing there. Evie was grinning and Jack was still studying the overhead lights.

“I think Mel's looking for a permanent instructor.”

“And?”

“And I'm still leaving at the end of the season. Just like I've said all along. Nothing's changed.”

Virginia raised her eyebrows. “It seems like something's different to me.”

June blew out a sigh and her siblings abandoned her by slinking off to supposedly check out the rest of the decor and tables.

“Your father and I fell in love in this ballroom,” Virginia said. “Long time ago now.”

“I know.”

“I know you know,” her mother said. “I'm just bringing it up for myself. It's a happy memory I want to keep with me tonight.”

June nodded, unsure of what to say.

“Life is short,” Virginia said. “I know you know that, too.”

June waited for the lecture she'd been expecting all summer. The one where her mother reminded her that things were different now that her father had died and she should come home and help out.

“I've always been proud of you, June. Your talent is one thing, but what I really love about you is your ability to go for what you want. If you want the starring role in any show, I believe you can get it.”

Her mother hugged her while June fought tears.

“You're my shining star,” Virginia said. “I want you to have whatever you want.”

* * *

T
WILIGHT
SOFTENED
THE
lines of the ballroom and sharpened the contrast of the lightbulbs outlining and illuminating the grand old entrance. Mel had enjoyed dinner at his parents' house and supervised Ross's bath and pajama ritual. His son would stay there tonight, freeing Mel to spend a precious evening with June Hamilton.

He found her leaning against a pillar on the edge of the dance floor. Several couples were attempting some moves, awkwardly holding each other and counting steps aloud under the direction of some performers from live shows. June wore a deep green dress with no straps, her bare shoulders glimmering in the soft lights.

Something about the way she bumped one trim hip against the ornate post made her seem like part of the architecture. He'd been in this room countless times for staff meetings, STRIPE lessons, but tonight, the ballroom was a ballroom. Pillars edged the parquet floor, refreshment tables and chairs waited in the wings, starlight would be visible through the tall Art Deco–styled windows.

June was beautiful in the knee-length dress and strappy high heels.

“Got time for a lesson?” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear from behind.

Goose bumps rippled across her shoulder despite the warmth in the ballroom.

She turned into him, placing them both behind the pillar and partially hiding them from sight.

“Depends on what talents you bring to the table,” she said. “Some students catch on faster than others.”

“I'm good with my hands,” he said, facing her and settling both hands around her waist.

“I know, but you have to dance with your feet.”

“Seems to me that hands are an important part of the deal.”

She smiled. “If you do it right.”

June took Mel's right hand and moved it to her left shoulder. Goose bumps again, he noted when his fingers met her bare skin.

She left his other hand at her waist and moved away from the pillar, giving them a shadowy, secluded dance floor behind it.

June took a small step backward with her left leg. “Follow me. Pretend your thighs are glued to mine.”

“I think I can remember those directions,” Mel said, swallowing hard.

June stepped back with her right leg, forcing a small turn. “Like a square,” she said. “Basic math. But you'll have to lead.”

Heat collected under his shirt collar and he wanted to tear off his tie.

“I think I'm going to need a drink.” He closed in on her, keeping his hands where she'd placed them. “Or a bucket of cold water.”

“This is just a ballroom step. Wait until we get to the tango,” June said. “You might incinerate.”

Trying to cool his thoughts, Mel looked over June's shoulder and concentrated on the smooth and simple steps. He had danced before at weddings and thought he knew the basics.

Having a good partner made a difference the size of the peninsula Starlight Point sat on. June was light and graceful, her love for the movement clear in every step and sway. Leading her as a dance partner was like being behind the wheel of a Ferrari. The only way he could go wrong was if he lost control.

Like he hadn't already. He paused, kissing June's cheek and just holding her, loving the electricity of her touch, the small sparkles at her ears. He felt her straining to move, to keep dancing. He would be happy holding her in his arms all night without negotiating a single square foot of the dance floor.

But she loved to keep going, keep the dance steps thrumming. More than standing still, more than...anything? This was it in a nutshell. He wanted to hold on tight, but June was a bird trying to decide how to use her wings. Spread them and protect the thing she loved, or use them to soar to some distant horizon.

June placed one palm on his cheek. “You're hot. Maybe we should get a drink before the crowd pours in and the real dance starts.”

She took his hand and led him to one of the refreshment tables. They passed Jack, who was lugging a big box at the direction of his mother. Virginia caught Mel's eye and gave him a nod that seemed like it was supposed to mean something. Evie was behind a table organizing cups into neat rows that would be decimated when the summer and year-round employees energetic enough to dance started streaming into the ballroom.

“You look like you're burning up,” Evie commented. “Too much sun today? I saw you on the track of the Silver Streak.”

“Hot in here,” Mel commented. “Maybe you should squeeze your spreadsheet a little and air-condition this old place.”

Evie grinned. “I don't think it would help you.”

June had been watching the practice dancers finish a round but turned back to her sister and Mel now that lessons were over. “What was wrong with the Silver Streak?” she asked.

“Down almost all afternoon. Alarm kept tripping on the first set of brakes. Turned out to be a computer chip causing the problem, but it took us a while to figure it out. That whole system is due for an upgrade next time you feel like putting some money into an old ride.”

“Worth it,” June said. “The Streak is part of the skyline here and it was probably the first coaster for half the people in the county.” She sipped the drink Evie handed her. “Sentimental value. Just like this old ballroom. Mom and Dad fell in love here.”

“Since when did you become so sentimental?” Evie asked.

“I'm allowed,” June said.

“Sure, but you're always making fun of me for being married to Starlight Point. I think you're having a secret affair,” Evie said. She waggled her glass at Mel. “And a not-so-secret one.”

June set her half-finished drink on the table. “You'll have to write all about me in the company newsletter.” She attempted a casual tone, but even with his limited powers of interpreting nuance, Mel could see that Evie had touched a nerve.

“I bet I could learn the tango,” Mel blurted out, desperate to say something guaranteed to distract June.

“I bet I could teach you,” she said, rewarding him with a smile—although that smile did not quite reach the guarded look in her eyes.

Party guests began arriving as the stars appeared over the point. With the front gates finally closed, employees were free to enjoy the Christmas in July event that had become a tradition. Mel, and the other year-round workers, saw the ballroom decorated for Christmas twice a year. The winter party was a much smaller group, and it was far more intimate because the year-round employees had known each other for years. The summer crowd at the July event was younger and livelier.

Trees sparkled and lights flashed as Mel waltzed past with June in his arms. He credited her excellent teaching for his respectable performance. And the fact that she had enough talent for both of them.

Around eleven o'clock, Virginia made a speech wishing a happy half Christmas to the Starlight Point family.

“And now for a fun diversion,” Virginia continued, “our head of live shows has a Christmas song prepared.”

Mel still had one arm around June at the foot of the stage. He glanced at her and she smiled. “I'm singing ‘White Christmas,'” she said. “I had it prepared for my audition anyway.”

June stepped onto the low stage and took the microphone from her mother. Virginia draped a red coat with white fur trim over her daughter's shoulders.

Mel listened as June sang the classic “White Christmas” for the assembled crowd, unable to look away for an instant.

* * *

“Y
OU
LOOK
VERY
SERIOUS
,” Mel said as they danced together close to midnight. “I know my tangoing was hideous, but at least I gave up before anyone realized how hard I was actually trying. Now I know my limitations.”

The DJ was playing a popular slow song. June didn't want to look at the young couples around them clutching and swaying with no skill whatsoever. She focused instead on the man who happened to be doing a decent job of leading her in a slow dance. She couldn't even see his lips moving as he counted steps. Maybe she should give him more credit.

“I was thinking about Evie.”

Mel tightened his hold on her. “Don't let her teasing get to you.”

“And I was thinking about Jack.”

“Now you're killing my dance mojo.”

“I just don't want them to hand over their lives to this place like our father did.”

Mel stopped dancing, took June's arm and guided her onto the patio behind the ballroom. The raised outdoor deck had a view of the lake. Right now, the water was a stretch of blackness under a half-moon.

He leaned against the rail and pulled June close. With her ear against his chest, she felt the rumble of his voice.

“What happened to your father was terrible. And it should never have happened. He needed help running this place, and he needed to open up about the problems. If he'd shared the burden with someone else, maybe things would've turned out different.”

June shook her head, a tiny movement against the wall of Mel's chest.

“I know how much you love your family. I know you're afraid they're going to work themselves to death. But it's what they want to do, what they love. And things are different. They have each other. It's lousy doing everything yourself.”

Mel smelled like shaving cream, shower soap and laundry detergent. For a moment, June pictured him putting Ross to bed and then hauling the laundry basket downstairs to start his full-time father and homemaker job. Trying to do everything himself.

“I could help,” she whispered.

“You have. You made the theaters new again and set them up for a great season. Maybe you'll be a distant partner for Jack and Evie, but you're still a partner. That makes a big difference, and it's a luxury your dad never took.”

June had a vision of her father, shirtsleeves rolled up, holding her hand as she walked to work with him when she was a little girl. They always walked across the wide parking lot separating their home on the Old Road from the front gates. In the summer, she walked with him almost every morning, following him around as he made the preopening checks, met with the lease vendors, said hello to employees. She had done it for so many years, she knew each step he would take and exactly what he would say.

Of course, he always had Jack by the other hand, but June never considered him competition. She didn't know exactly how old she was when she'd started to realize that she had a choice in life and maybe nailing her feet to the midway at Starlight Point wasn't in her best interest.

Little by little, the lure of the stage and the magic of the audience had replaced the man with rolled shirtsleeves. Starlight Point had begun to seem like an anchor keeping her ship in a narrow harbor when she wanted to see the whole ocean.