Carousel Nights

by Amie Denman

  “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.”

  * * *

  JUNE 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.”

  Ross darted out of the room.

  “We have thirty seconds,” Mel said. He pulled June close and kissed her until they heard voices and footsteps approaching. She remembered him being a good kisser, but time had improved Mel in more ways than one. When he kissed her now, it was deeper, more meaningful. Less experiment, more experience. “It’s even better when I don’t have to wait seven years,” he said, his voice deep and husky.

  June loved the children who were fast approaching, but if they’d taken several minutes to get there, she wouldn’t have complained. Being in Mel’s arms, his lips on hers, his scent still fresh from the shower but with a touch of maintenance garage, made her wish dancing could wait. Just for a while.

  He pressed one more quick kiss to her lips and released her just before the first child burst into the room. A dozen kids ran around the perimeter just as Ross had done.

  “I don’t get it,” June said.

  “I told you. Kids love big empty spaces. Soccer fields, empty swimming pools, unfinished basements. They all have the same magic. Maybe adults should learn to be so easily satisfied.”

  “Big empty stages,” June said, suddenly realizing she did understand. “I love it when there are no props or sets, just dancers. I like the empty theaters, too, before everyone gets there.”

  “But you also love the crowds,” Mel said.

  She nodded. “Of course. If it weren’t for all those people buying a ticket, I’d be out of a job.”

  “We better get them started before they burn off all their energy,” Mrs. Nelson said.

  “Not much chance of that,” Mel replied. “I swear Ross is like a battery-operated toy sometimes. Just keeps going.”

  June smiled at Mel and turned to the room. “Dancers!” she yelled. “Find a partner and line up.”

  Mel leaned against the wall in the musty hotel room. June felt him watching her every move.

  “Ross,” she said, motioning for him to join her. “Will you take your dad back to the other room and show him where I keep the CD player? Have him unplug it so you can bring it back here. Okay?”

  Ross, happy to have an important responsibility, grabbed his dad’s hand. “Come on, Dad, we have to get the music.”

  They were only gone two minutes, but June missed them. When Mel had nodded a goodbye while she was putting the dancers through a grand right and left, a devastating realization washed over her.

  She was going to miss all of this when the Starlight Point season ended and her time under the Broadway lights began. If only she could have them both.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  STORM CLOUDS GATHERED and dispersed before the afternoon parade, defying the prediction of thunderstorms. But it was only temporary. The heavy dark clouds moved back in with surprising speed as soon as the parade ended. With a Saturday crowd spilling out of every queue line, souvenir shop, restaurant and show, Starlight Point was no place for a thunderstorm. Its position on a peninsula thrust into the lake made it especially vulnerable to wind and lightning. Growing up, June had once seen a waterspout, a tornado over the lake spinning viciously. It had dissipated before touching the Lake Breeze Hotel, but she’d never forgotten it and its remembrance fueled her healthy respect for summer storms.

  It was the middle of July, and they’d been lucky so far. Good weather had brought record crowds. But June knew from experience they were overdue for a major summer storm. The kind that would rearrange the sand on the beach, close the rides and wash over the docks in the marina. Depending on the time of day, major storms caused traffic jams on the Point Bridge as a mass of vehicles tried to escape the peninsula. Because it was only midafternoon and guests would likely want to salvage their ticket price, June expected th
em to wait out the storm indoors in restaurants, shows and the hotel lobby.

  The air held the tension of coming rain, but it had been like that off and on all day, and the thirty-minute parade rolled out as scheduled. She’d already texted Mel and offered to return Ross to the hotel day care after the parade. June grabbed a scooter so she could get Ross settled and drive Megan straight to her car instead of making her walk on swollen feet in bad weather. Ross climbed in the open back and sat on the floor as instructed. Keeping a close eye on the weather, June drummed her fingers on the wheel and waited for Megan to finish talking to one of the dancers from the Western show.

  The hotel wasn’t far, just a quarter mile down the outer loop, across an access road and a parking lot punctuated by rows of young trees and a few huge old cottonwoods no one had the heart to cut down. Not a lengthy trip by scooter or car, but it was a long way in wind and lightning.

  The breeze off the lake shifted again, swaying the trees and casting shadows with the clouds and branches. June shivered in the sudden shade. And she felt an awareness of another kind, signaled by a pickup truck sliding up next to her scooter. She was not at all surprised to see Mel only five minutes after her text reached him.

  He got out of his truck and jogged over to the scooter.

  “Hi,” he said, running his fingers down her bare arm. June’s pulse responded, electricity sizzling in the air. Mel was thrilling, confusing, questioning—a present she’d finally opened that would never go back in the box, even if she wanted to put it there.

  “Your son is in the back,” June said.

  “Hey, Ross.”

  Ross smiled. “Hi, Dad.”

  Thunder rumbled across the lake and Mel turned his head, listening.

  “The storm’s coming for real this time,” June said.

  “I’m hoping it goes out over the lake,” Mel answered, watching the wind whip the trees along the road, “but I think it’s coming our way.”

  June’s phone beeped and she dug it out of the small shoulder bag on the seat next to her.

  “Weather alert,” she said, scrolling with her finger. “Severe storms, damaging wind, possible hail.” She held up the small screen so Mel could see the radar. He cleared his throat and looked again at the darkening sky over the lake.