It's Tutu Much

by L. L. Bartlett

  “We’ve got a lease,” he objected.

  “We could sublet. I just happened to be looking at the contract and—”

  “Uh-huh.” Did he have to sound so skeptical?

  “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “Couldn’t we just go look at the house to see what you think?”

  He let out a weary sigh. “I guess so.”

  Dana grinned and kissed his cheek. Then he turned and she kissed his mouth—like she meant it.

  “I just know we’re going to love this house.” She picked up his phone and tapped in Cunningham Realty’s URL. Scrolling through the listings, she tapped on the Main Street house and handed it back to Jack. “What do you think?”

  Of course, he bypassed all the other pictures, and went straight for the office space.

  “What happened to the dentist?”

  “Dr. Everett? He had a heart attack and died. According to the realtor, the village has been praying for a new dentist to come to town. There’s only one other one. You are still accepting patients, right?”

  “Right,” he grudgingly agreed.

  “And just think; no commutes—you could even have lunch at home every day.”

  “That would probably be healthier,” he agreed.

  She was wearing him down, but she knew she could undermine everything if she harped on it too much.

  “See, there are lots of good reasons to at least look the place over. We can drop Bella off with Mom and take a look. Maybe we could also check out the village—have lunch at the diner or Pelican’s Nest. It seems like forever since we’ve had a few minutes to ourselves,” she added, glancing over at the corner of the room where Bella was having a tea party with her stuffed animals.

  “Okay. You’ve worn me down. What’s for supper? Something smells good.”

  “Roast chicken.”

  Jack frowned. “Okay, now I know for sure I’m being snowed.”

  “Not snowed, encouraged.”

  Jack looked at his phone once more, scrolling through the pictures of the dental office and smiled.

  Now all Dana had to do was just reel him in.

  Chapter 3

  It had been an exhausting summer—buying the old Everett home, looking at all the potential rental spaces, and leasing the studio at Artisans Alley, and then getting it ready for classes, and moving. The Milton family wasn’t exactly settled, but at least the dental practice would remain in the neighboring town until the lease ran out. That gave them plenty of time to refurbish the space, which would also save Jack thousands of dollars a year in rent. Of course, a large chunk of change had gone into establishing the dance studio, but in the long run, moving to McKinlay Mill was a smart financial decision.

  It had taken a lot of juggling to get not only classes set up, but she’d also established a website with online registration, and hired two other teachers. Until they could build up a clientele, they’d have limited classes on Tuesdays and Saturdays and hoped by the following fall to double the number of students. It sounded fantastic on paper.

  It’s Tutu Much opened the second Saturday in September, right after classes began for the semester at McKinlay Mill Elementary, with a compliment of eighteen students. Dana’s teachers took the pre-teen and teens, while Dana handled the youngest girls and the adults. It seemed like the perfect blend.

  One of Dana’s core beliefs was that respect toward peers, teachers, and adults was expected from all students at all times. She even had a big poster made up that hung on the wall near the changing rooms so that every student would see it every time they came for class.

  However, she had a feeling little Courtney Wilkens, age eight, was going to be a problem from day one. She’d seen the type many times before, from her own experience at dance class, and as a teacher while at Twinkle Toes dance studio. Courtney was Little Miss Know-It-All with more than a touch of mean girl in her. She was bossy and loud—but she was also smart enough to make her most cutting remarks out of earshot of Dana and the other adults who sat in the waiting area while their children took lessons. The one thing Courtney wasn’t, was the best dancer. She had four years experience at several schools in the next town, but her reputation had also preceded her.

  “Watch out for that one,” she’d been told when she’d gone to one of the two dance suppliers in the area to set up a visit to her school and ran into a friend who had taught Courtney the year before. “She teased the other girls terribly, saying mean things about them and their parents.”

  “What did her mother say?”

  “That we’d got it all wrong and her daughter would never belittle another child.”

  “Totally clueless?” Dana asked.

  “More like in denial. We finally had to ask her to leave.”

  “What should I look out for?”

  “She’ll pick on the girl with the worst clothes, or maybe one who’s just a little chubby.”

  “I’ll keep my eye out,” Dana said, and intended to do just that.

  * * *

  The best dancer in the Broadway Babies class of elementary school kids was Emma Jones. Oddly enough, this was her first experience dancing. Most of the girls had two or more years under their belts. On the third week of class, Dana approached the little girl in the skin-tight leotard and scuffed tap shoes. “You’re doing wonderful, Emma. It’s so hard to believe this is your first dance class.”

  “I practice every day.”

  “Well, it shows. How did you get so good so fast?”

  “I watch YouTube videos. My Mom says you can learn how to do just about anything from YouTube.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Dana said, “but whatever you’re doing, has sure helped you learn the steps.”

  Emma looked around to make sure no one was nearby and motioned Dana closer. “I even know how to shuffle off to Buffalo,” she said conspiratorially.

  Dana had to stifle a smile. “Wow. That is a big move. Maybe you’d like to show the other girls how to do it.”

  “Could I?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with pride.

  “You sure can. How about we save that for the end of class as kind of a big finish?”

  “Okay,” she said, nodding, her dark brown ponytail bobbing up and down.

  The class went fairly well with all the little tappers doing their best. Well, all but Courtney, who seemed to be closely watching the girls on either side of her. It was painful to see their enthusiasm wane as the class went on, but Dana couldn’t seem to catch Courtney actually saying anything to them. She’d try to catch them before they went back to the dressing room to change.

  Then just before the time came to end the class, Dana called for the girls’ attention.

  “I want everyone to practice your routines at home this week. We want to be the best we can be at recital time, right?”

  “Yes, Miss Dana,” the girls called in unison.

  “And now before we finish for the day, I want Emma to come up. Emma has been practicing very hard at home and she has a step she’d like to show you. Come here, sweetheart.”

  A blushing Emma came up to the front of the class.

  “Why don’t you tell us about it.”

  “Well, basically,” Emma said, sounding deadly serious. “It’s a step, shuffle, kick—open, cross.”

  “Why don’t you show us what it looks like from the front?”

  Emma did three Buffalos in a row and tossed in a flat ball change for good measure.

  “Cool,” called Brianna Barnett.

  “I already know how to do that,” Courtney called out. “I’ll bet we all do.”

  “Emma is new to tapping. I think it’s a major accomplishment,” Dana said seriously. “Why don’t you show us what it looks like from the back, Emma?”

  Emma turned around so that she faced the room-length mirror and barre and whipped off another few buffalos, but this time finished with a shuffle, heel, shuffle, step.

  Dana clapped her hands and several of the other gi
rls did likewise. One little voice called out “Show off.”

  Dana instantly recognized the voice. She forced a smile. “That was excellent, Emma. Thank you for the demonstration. That’s all for today, girls. I’ll see you next Saturday and remember; practice, practice, practice!” The children began to run toward the changing rooms when Dana called, “Lauren and Brianna, could you please see me.”

  The two girls looked at each other, their expressions guilty—as though they thought they might be in trouble, but they walked up to Dana, who crouched down to their level. “Did you girls have a good class?”

  They both nodded, but their expressions were deadly serious.

  “Because at one point neither of you looked very happy. Is something wrong?”

  Brianna looked toward the changing room door, where Courtney lurked. She shook her head. “No, Miss Dana.”

  “Lauren?”

  Lauren shook her head, too.

  “You know our number one rule here in dance class, right?”

  The girls spoke in unison. “Respect.”

  “That’s right. So if anyone’s giving you a hard time, I want to know about it.”

  The youngsters looked at each other, then back toward the dressing room, but said nothing.

  Dana rose to her full height. “You both danced very well today. Don’t forget to practice.”

  “I won’t,” they both promised, and then raced toward the dressing room.

  Dana let out a breath. She’d have to keep a closer eye out on Courtney Wilkens.

  Chapter 4

  A lot of the moms dropped their children off at dance class and then ran off to run an errand or two. It was no big deal—Paula had done that when Dana was a child. Artisans Alley was a big draw, too, and several of the parents jokingly complained that it was costing them a fortune to be in such close proximity on a regular basis. However, Katie Bonner had seemed very pleased by the weekly influx of new customers to the arts-and-crafts arcade.

  After the Broadway Babies class, Dana headed to her office to check for messages and found the door to the dressing room ajar. She pushed it open and was surprised to find Emma Jones sitting alone on the bench, tying her sneaker laces, her cheeks wet with tears.

  “Hey, Em, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said, and swiped a hand across her cheek. “I gotta go.”

  “Wait, where’s your Mom?”

  “She’s probably out in the lobby. If she isn’t, I’ll just wait for her there.”

  “No, no, no. You’ll wait for her here, okay? I’m sure she’ll be along any minute.” She sat down beside Emma. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I told you, nothing.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “I’m not crying. I got something in my eye.”

  “Let me look,” Dana said, and Emma tilted her head up, looking at the ceiling. “I don’t see anything.”

  “It’s gone now.”

  “Well, I’m happy to hear that,” Dana said. Emma began to swing her legs, and wouldn’t look at her. “If someone was picking on you, you’d let me know, wouldn’t you?”

  Emma’s shoulders rose and fell.

  “Because you know our number one rule at Tutu Much dance studio.”

  “Respect everybody.”

  “That’s right. And if someone doesn’t respect you, it’s okay to say something.”

  “I’m not a snitch.”

  “No, I don’t believe you are.”

  “Emma!” Mrs. Jones had arrived.

  Emma pushed up from the bench, grabbing her jacket. “I gotta go.” She rushed out of the dressing room.

  Dana rose, too. “See you next week,” she called, but by the time she re-entered the studio, it was empty.

  * * *

  “There’s always one rotten kid trying to take the fun out of things for everyone else,” Jack said that evening at dinner, as he helped himself to a big goopy piece of pizza. They’d agreed that Saturdays would be pizza night, and since they’d fallen in love with Angelo’s pizza next door to Artisans Alley, it wasn’t a hard decision to make.

  “What was your experience?” Dana asked as she cut Bella’s slice into tiny, bite-size pieces.

  “I was a cub scout. But there was this one kid, Les Newman, who was a real nasty piece of work. He used to taunt us skinny short guys telling us that ‘Les, would always be more than you.’”

  “And what did he grow up to be?”

  Jack laughed. “A garbage man. Not that there’s anything shameful about that.” So said the dentist with just the hint of a smirk. “He went to an Ivy League school, but he also flunked out. Got caught up in drugs, and it was the father of one of our high school buddies who felt sorry for him and offered him a job. And since he’d hit rock bottom and was pretty damned humble at that point, he took it.”

  “Happy ending?”

  “More or less,” Jack said, smiled at his cleverness, and took a rather big bite of his slice of the steaming pie.

  “I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on with Courtney. She’s jealous that Emma is a better dancer and picks on her clothes.”

  “What’s wrong with her clothes?”

  “They’re hand-me-downs. Her workout leotards are a little tight, and there’re runs in her tights. But she can dance. And she’s got passion.”

  “Like you?” he asked, and raised an eyebrow.

  Dana smiled. “Maybe.”

  “What are you going to do about the situation?”

  “I can’t do anything until I catch Courtney in her mean-girl act.”

  “You can get rid of her if she disrupts the class.”

  “I can’t afford to lose the tuition.”

  “If her behavior escalates, you’re going to have to ask her to leave anyway.”

  Dana nodded, staring down at her plate. When she’d worked at Twinkle Toes, its owner, Linda Reynolds, took care of the discipline and didn’t hesitate to enforce a strict set of rules that covered dress and codes of behavior. As owner/manager of Tutu Much, Dana would have to do the same thing.

  Sometimes being a grownup really stunk.

  Chapter 5

  Things were dicey at Tutu Much the following Saturday. The only toilet in the studio was slow running after the teen tapper class, and was clogged and overflowed by the time the Broadway Babies showed up late that afternoon. Dana made a frantic call to Katie Bonner, who sent over someone with a bag of tools and a plunger.

  “Hi, I’m Vance. Your toilet’s clogged?” he asked as the girls ran around the room chasing one another.

  “Yes. These little girls are all probably going to have to pee before they leave, and I certainly don’t want any other accidents,” Dana said. She’d already mopped the floor twice.

  “Sure thing. Have you got a sign up telling the girls not to flush sanitary products?”

  “I hadn’t thought about that. I’ll do that after class.”

  “You might want to switch to septic-friendly toilet paper, too. It’s not as thick as the other brands and doesn’t get stuck as often.”

  “Do you think you can free the clog?”

  Vance nodded. “If I can’t plunge it free, I’ve got my handy-dandy snake.” He patted his tool bag with fondness.

  “Thank goodness. And thank you for getting here so quickly.”

  “You might want to invest in a plunger—just in case I’m not here someday.”

  “I’ll do that,” she said.

  He gave her a nod and headed for the washroom. About halfway through the lesson, she saw Vance leave, giving her a good-bye nod as he exited the studio.

  As usual, Emma knew all her steps and it was hard not to give her more praise than the rest of the class. She obviously practiced far more than the other kids. Once again Courtney seemed to be tormenting the girls standing on either side of her, and how she managed to look so innocent when Dana looked at her was aggravating.

  At last the class was over and the girls rushed toward the d
ressing room and bathroom.

  “Miss Dana!”

  Dana turned. It was one of the mothers. “Hello, Mrs. Barnett.”

  “I wondered if you had a moment.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  The woman sighed. “It’s Brianna. She was very enthused about starting your classes, but this afternoon she didn’t want to get in the car to come.”

  “I noticed she wasn’t very happy last week or today. Is it something we can solve?”

  “She doesn’t like one of the other girls. Courtney?”

  “Oh?” Dana asked, playing dumb.

  “Apparently she says some very nasty things about one of the other little girls. Emma. She wants Brie to say nasty things, too. She said if she doesn’t, she’s going to make all the other girls hate her, too. I didn’t bring up my daughter to act that way.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t. And thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

  The horrendous crash of shattered glass interrupted their conversation and both women practically flew across the studio, their maternal instincts—and shots of adrenaline—driving them.

  There, in the open bathroom doorway, surrounded by what was left of the bathroom mirror, stood Emma, holding onto the plunger that Vance had brought to unplug the toilet.

  “Emma! Did you do that?” Dana asked, already knowing the answer.

  A big tear slid from Emma’s left eye and she shook her head.

  “She did it, she did it! I saw her do it!” Courtney practically screamed.

  Dana took in the frightened faces of the other girls. “Is that true?” she asked.

  Nobody answered.

  “Brianna, do you know what happened?” Mrs. Barnett called.

  Brianna shook her head and looked down at the floor.

  Dana glared at Courtney, who had the audacity to stand there, her chin jutting forward, looking defiant as though daring Dana to accuse her of causing the damage. Instead, Dana stepped forward and gently took the plunger from Emma, placing her hand in the girl’s. “I want you to come and sit over here. Be careful. Don’t step on the glass.” She led the child over to the bench and Emma sat, her head hanging low.