by Gina LaManna
I'd been thinking of coming back to Little Lake at some point anyway and wondered if this wasn't a sign the time was right. A few months, some research, and a huge risk later, I'd landed back home.
Looking around at what I had to show for it, a feeling I could only guess was excitement blossomed somewhere in my chest around my heart. I had a gorgeous little studio and a small, but hopefully growing, population of students. Now, if I managed to not get arrested for a crime I didn't commit, that would be a huge bonus.
"We'll start with the basics. First of all, why did you each show up here today?" I stood at the front of my studio and six students spread out before me, some obviously nervous.
The room was silent.
"Oh, come on," I said with a smile. "Something made you click on the Sign Up button. Something dragged you out of the comforts of your homes on this beautiful fall day and back inside a studio. Why?"
Nosy Barbara looked around with shifty eyes. I didn't look in her direction—I knew why she was there.
"Anyone?" I asked cheerfully.
Mrs. Jenkins raised her hand shakily.
"Sure! Mrs. Jenkins. What brought you here today?"
"Well, I'm a widow now. On account of that fact, I gotta get back out there in the dating game sometime in the near future. So I gotta get back into sexy mode." She glanced around. "Y'all ladies know how it is…you get comfortable after a while. I used to be hot, but now I'm older."
The fake smile froze on my face. "Great. Anyone else?"
Please, I prayed. Anyone?
"I'm in a new relationship, actually," Sarah said, swooping in to save the day with another distraction. "I thought it might be a fun way to spice things up. Not that things are boring or anything…just…"
"Excellent." I nodded. "Absolutely. It's always fun to add something new before things get boring. It can help keep long-term relationships fun and interesting."
Sarah had been my sworn enemy since kindergarten, but at that moment I could've kissed her. After Mrs. Jenkins had spoken, the room went silent. Not a great start to any sort of class, especially one that relied on a loose, fun atmosphere.
"Burlesque is a great way to spice things up at home. In the living room. In the kitchen. Over breakfast. Anywhere." I smiled, more genuinely this time. "The best part, at least for me, is that burlesque is all about feeling comfortable and sexy in your own skin. It's less about the other person and more about becoming a strong, confident woman with a fun spring to your step. If your partner gets enjoyment out of it, that's even better."
With a wink, I dragged a chair to the front of the classroom.
"Let's start slow. We'll do some basic chair work, put you all in some gloves and a feather boa, and then we'll get you all buttoned up in an oversized man's shirt. All things you can find at home or pick up very cheaply."
Walking over toward the radio, I glanced over my shoulder. "Anyone got a song they'd like to start with?" I asked. "Give me something a little sassy."
A few recommendations were shouted out, and I quickly built a playlist in my phone, hooked it up to the stereo, and hit play. As soon as the tunes began pulsing through the speakers, I relaxed. This was my happy place. My comfortable zone. The place where I could go and nobody could disturb me.
"Let's start with a nice little walk. Swing those hips. Good, Barbara!"
I was lying, but Nosy Barbara didn't seem to notice. Instead of swaying her hips, she ticked back and forth like a very robotic clock, but maybe her husband thought her rigid movements were a turn on. Who was I to judge?
"You're a natural." I walked past Sarah and nodded. I was slightly disappointed that my praise wasn't a lie. She moved with a suave grace that only certain people were born with. "Your new boyfriend is a lucky man."
She giggled, and for a moment I thought maybe I could let bygones be bygones. In fact, I was sure of it. Grudges held since kindergarten were a terrible, exhausting way to live. I took a long, deep breath and promised myself I'd try to be better friends with Sarah. After all, maybe it would be fun to get drinks and talk about boys and gossip about bigger cities than Little Lake.
Unlike most people in this town, she had a similar experience as I, in that she left the tiny town and came back. I had visions of us bonding over martinis about traveling, culture, and coming back to the place where we'd started from originally.
"That's it. Maybe a little…less of that." I was afraid Mrs. Jenkins would hip check the girl next to her. Jenkins appeared to be trying out for the National Hockey League as opposed to swaying her hips gently.
"Good, you guys are doing great!" I clicked a button on my phone. "Next song…and we're adding feather boas. Ignore the molting feathers. It might look like a peacock was de-feathered here after class."
I got a small laugh, and the air started to loosen up. Mrs. Jenkins relaxed her hip swaying, the other students stopped looking around at everyone else and began following my lead, and Sarah was truly doing a great job. Even Barbara seemed a bit less robotic, but that could've just been my better mood.
The sixty-minute class flew by, and before I knew it, I was a little sweaty and leading the class in a quick cool down.
"That was really fun," I said, meaning it. "Did you ladies enjoy it?"
"That was great." Sarah gleamed. Not a drop of sweat sparkled on her body, her cute blonde hair looking perfectly smooth. "Really, excellent. Do you have a series coming up?"
I glanced around, pleasantly surprised to find each and every student, with the exception of Barbara, looked back at me expectantly.
"Why…yes! Absolutely." I grinned. "Starts next week—which night works for you all?"
Even Barbara glanced up for a moment before returning her attention back to staring at her big toe.
"Monday. Let's start Monday." Sarah looked at the other ladies, who bobbed their heads in agreement. There were a few "Works for me!"s and a "Kenny can babysit Monday," and we were set.
"It's a date. Thanks everyone for coming. Take your boas with you…and feel free to test them out before class next week."
"What if we don't have anyone to test them out on?" Mrs. Jenkins asked.
An icy silence slithered through the room.
"By yourself, is what I meant," I said, haltingly. "A lot of new dancers don't feel comfortable trying things in front of another person right away. It's always good to try a few songs, find your jam, and practice your favorite mood. That way you're ready whenever the situation arises."
Mrs. Jenkins nodded. "What time Monday?"
"I…uh, how about eight?" I hadn't expected her to be back.
"Works for me. See you girls Monday then." Mrs. Jenkins stood up and began strutting toward the door as if it were a catwalk.
"See you Monday at eight!" I clapped my hands and hoped the students would get to chatting among themselves.
The class had gone so well…and then ended on a sour note with Mrs. Jenkins's awkward question. A smooth closure would have rounded everything out perfectly. Thankfully, Sarah muttered something under her breath that I couldn't hear, and a one or two of the girls laughed. Chatter broke out, and an easy conversation fell into place.
I took the opportunity to gather up a few things, sweep the feathers into the corner, and tidy up the studio to leave it in decent shape before shutting the lights off as the students filed out.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and twirled around to find Sarah standing extremely close to me, hair bobbing with an energy I envied after an hour of dancing.
"Hey, that was a really great class." She reached an arm out and patted me on the shoulder. "Really, I think you're bringing something back to this town that Little Lake desperately needs."
"A beat?" I smiled.
"Some fun! Loosen things up. Everything's so tight-laced around here."
I had a sneaking suspicion that I'd been right—it'd be fun to get to know Sarah. Or to re-get to know her. I certainly wasn't the same person I was in kindergarten, let alone yesterday—why
should I expect her to be?
"We should grab a drink sometime," I said. I swung my purse onto my shoulder and shut the lights off in the studio as we stepped out of the room.
"Yeah, definitely. It'd be great to catch up."
I locked the door, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. She looked down the hallway behind her but met my gaze as I turned back.
I nodded. "Absolutely. A lot of time has passed, and we have a lot of chatting to do. I wanna hear all about this new guy you have."
"That'll be fun. Say, I've gotta get going…the new guy is picking me up downstairs. Let's grab drinks this week."
I began to nod, but Sarah reached out and put a hand on my shoulder.
"If you need anything, though—help, or someone to talk to, or whatever…just let me know."
Generally hating when people, except for Donna, pried into my business, I was surprised to feel a warmness in my stomach. There were tons of stories where old enemies became friends. Maybe Sarah and I would be one of those pairs. After all, they said that love and hate were a very thin line to walk.
"I really appreciate that," I said honestly.
We walked in an easy silence down to the front gates. I slapped my forehead. "Oh shoot, I forgot something in my office. You go ahead. Give me a call this week sometime, and we'll meet up."
"Sure. Time to go test out some of my new moves." Sarah winked.
"You show him, girl." I waved as Sarah took off.
"Hey, actually," I called after her. "Do you have like twenty seconds? I could use your help."
"No problem. What is it?" Sarah looked around the parking lot, probably looking for her ride. But the place was empty, except for a few patrons at Sweets. There was a cop car out front, and I was betting that it belonged to Jax or Alfie. It could be one of the few other cops in town, but since Jax's sister worked at the candy store and Alfie was involved in Jenkins's murder, chances were high it belonged to one or the other. .
"I'm kind of poking around into why someone might have framed me for Anthony Jenkins's death, and I was wondering if you knew any places open late at night around here."
"What kind of places?" Sarah no longer looked around, but focused on me.
"Oh, I don't know…someplace one might go to grab drinks, or…I don't know."
"What makes you think he was out late at night?"
"Someone mentioned that he was out all the time. I figured he was either out at a friend's place, if you know what I mean, or hanging out in some joint, closing the place down."
"I don't know." Sarah sniffed. "I'm not into that sort of thing."
"Of course not," I said quickly. "I just meant if you'd heard something—gossip or whatever. I'm a little bit out of the loop, for obvious reasons."
"I suppose you're right. Who told you that, anyway?"
"I'm not sure I should say…" I glanced around.
"Was she here for class?" Sarah whispered, leaning in.
I gave a quick nod.
Sarah smiled grimly. "Quite the awkward conversationalist."
"Tell me about it."
"Well, actually now that I think about it, I did hear something in the beauty shop just before class."
"Really?" I stepped backward into the building. I wasn't sure this was a conversation I wanted to have in front of a public parking lot where the wife of the victim had been moments before.
"Can I ask what you heard?"
"Did you say you have to run up to your office? What if I walk with you, tell you on the way?"
"Wow, that'd be great. Thank you!"
Sarah lightly grabbed my wrist, and together we walked back up the first flight of stairs. "I was getting my hair done, and of course it was right after Anthony Jenkins's body was found. Naturally, it was the topic of all gossip."
"Of course."
"And it did come up that he was always out and about late at night. Now, I'm not sure how accurate this is since it's hearsay, but it might be worth checking out."
"I'm open to anything. I'm at a dead end right now, looking at a long time in prison if this turns out the wrong way."
"Well, apparently he was big into comics. There's this huge underground comic store in the city center. I mean, the place itself isn't huge, but it's not…broadcast at all. The building looks like a dump, there's not a single sign that says comic store, and there's a lot of traffic going in and out of that place that the crowd doesn't want others to know about. I don't know exactly the details, but that's what I've heard. And Anthony's name was attached to it somehow."
"That's could be very helpful, thank you."
"No problem…just don't tell them that you heard it from me."
"Of course not." I'd reached my office and unlocked the door. "Drinks are on me this week."
"Say, let's not get drinks. Let's go to the store together. I'd love to help you with this," Sarah said with wide eyes.
"Really? No, you don't have to do that."
"I want to." She smiled. "I owe you back for that tooth I stole when I was a bratty kindergartener."
"No, don't worry about it. I'd forgotten all about that." So what? It was a tiny lie, and I would forget the incident, starting now.
"Pretty flowers," she said, glancing over my shoulder.
"Thanks. My friend Donna—you know Donna, who runs Sweets—dropped them off."
Sarah smiled. "Let's head to the store tomorrow together. It'll be fun, an adventure."
"Sure. That sounds great. Do you want me to walk you out? I'm gonna use the bathroom quick and then send out a few quick emails before I lock up." I gestured to the dinky laptop on the desk.
"No problem, I'll let myself out. See you tomorrow!"
* * *
On the way to the bathroom, I found myself humming the tune of a song we'd danced to. A good sign. I washed up and glanced at myself in the mirror, thinking today hadn't gone as poorly as I'd expected. Even my hazel eyes looking back, my still-damp brown hair, my whole perspective looked a bit shinier. With the exception of a few odd lines from Mrs. Jenkins, it'd been a success. And the best part about it was that the girls wanted to come back.
Maybe not Nosy Barbara, but I could do without her. I didn't need her money if she only wanted to gather gossip and spit it back out at the salon. I had an official class now. With returning students. Who knew? Maybe business would pick up with a little bit of buzz. They said any publicity was good publicity, so maybe Barbara was doing me a favor after all, spouting about the studio all over town.
I swung by the studio to do a quick check on my way back to the office. All was quiet. The floor still shone bright, but the first scuff marks from the chairs made me feel excited. The stray feathers drifting to the corners were a symbol that the classroom was in use, and the laundry basket full of men's button-down shirts made my heart happy.
I flicked the light switch back off and headed to my office.
There was a slight clink of metal as I approached my office, and I held my breath as a figure stepped out of the office, slowly closing the door behind him.
"Alfie, what are you doing here?" I exhaled my breath in one big swoosh. I took in his stocky figure, made even rounder by a lumpy backpack hanging from his shoulders.
"Misty. Hi, I um…I was just, uh, looking for you."
"Really? What do you need?"
"I wanted to see how things were going. You know, how you're doing…how your first class went," he said stiffly.
"It's fine. But why were you in my office?"
"I just stepped in to wait for you. But when you didn't come back in a minute, I thought I'd come find you up at the studio."
"I'm doing fine, and if you don't need anything from me, I have work to do." I took a step forward, gesturing for him to move out of the doorway.
His short, stubby frame twitched slightly as he glanced around. "Is anyone else here?"
"No. Why?"
He shrugged. "The real reason I'm here is to tell you that we got a phone call from an anonym
ous source. She said that Mrs. Jenkins was making some trouble in your class."
"Was this female anonymous source a Mrs. Barbara Jones?"
"It's anonymous." A slight line of perspiration broke out along Alfie's hairline. "How did you know it was a female?"
I gave a slight roll of my eyes. I tried to stop it, but it just slipped out. "You said she."
"Pretend you didn't hear that." Alfie glanced around. Louder, he said, "It's anonymous."
"Okay, well, on the off chance it was Barbara, I'm guessing she was just trying to stir the gossip pot and give Little Lake something to talk about. For your information, my first class went extraordinarily smoothly, and everyone left happy. Except for Barbara, but I think that's because she can't dance."
Alfie's face reddened to the hue of a licorice rope. I knew it was a low blow, but I didn't appreciate extra drama being generated at my class's expense. There was enough drama and emotion running on overload to fuel a high school cheerleading team.
"I should be going then."
"Yes, I think that's probably best. I have some work to finish up here."
Alfie scooted behind me, lugging what appeared to be a heavy load in that backpack behind him. I wondered why on earth he'd dragged it in here, especially since that was probably his cop car out front, and he could have easily left it in the trunk.
I popped open my laptop and let myself get lost in building a lesson plan for a six-class package. Music streamed from my computer, and it felt satisfying to be in the zone, typing out exercises and moves, "homework" for the students, and a few routines that'd serve as the grand finale for week six. As I typed, I grew more and more excited for the sessions ahead. Just maybe, it'd work out here in Little Lake. Maybe I'd be able to find my niche.
Thirty minutes later, I stood up and stretched, shutting down my computer and gathering up my things. I glanced around at my little office, happy for a place to call mine. Except there was one thing off—the sunflowers were missing.
"Damn it, Alfie," I growled. He'd toted them off in that backpack, I was sure of it. It wasn't worth the effort of chasing him down to retrieve them, but I'd certainly have a few words ready next time I saw him.