by Amie Denman
June had only one. She knew the routine like she knew every ride at Starlight Point. Her knee was strong and rested after weeks with almost no dancing. She hoped. Was she ready to test her knee? She had to know if it would hold up under pressure, just in case she got an offer or audition. This was a perfect opportunity.
And she wanted to dance.
“I’ll do it.”
“You?”
“Of course. I made up all those dance steps, I can certainly do them. I’ll just need Gloria to make a slightly taller costume for me, and I’ll put on my dancing shoes.”
“That’s not what I thought you were going to say,” Megan said. “But it’s a great idea if you’re willing.”
“Very willing,” June said.
“In that case, you better hurry. Your first show is in three hours.”
June went inside and caught Mel’s eye. He had finished his lecture and the attendees were moving to various tables. Mel covered the space between them with long, quick steps.
“Problem?” he asked. “You look upset and excited at the same time. Was it my teaching? I told you I was no professor.”
June laughed. “You were really good. I can’t believe you claimed to be a lousy teacher—you had the audience in the palm of your hand.”
Mel flushed, color and a smile lighting his face. Irresistible. Again. Good thing she had something else to occupy her mind right now.
“Are you ready to help me out and captain one of the tables?” he asked.
June shook her head. “Sorry. I have to back out on you because of a problem with our show in the Midway Theater. One of the girls had to go home for a while and we need a replacement right away.”
“Do you have spare dancers waiting in the wings?”
“No.”
“So what will you do?”
“Call in a professional.”
“Let me guess,” he said, pointing at June.
She smiled. “I have no idea why I’m so excited about dancing here. It’s not Broadway or even close.”
“But it’s where you started. And the shows this summer are all you.” Mel touched June’s upper arm as he spoke. “Don’t worry about the STRIPE classes. I’ve got it under control.” His eyebrows drew together and his usual smile was absent. He drew a long breath. “When dancing calls, I know you have to go.”
June took a deep breath. This was nothing like her leaving their summer romance. They were grown-ups. And she wasn’t leaving the state. She was going across the midway to do her job.
“I have to go. The show is in a few hours and I’m six inches taller than the girl I’m replacing. I hope Gloria is in the mood to make an emergency costume for me.”
“I could put in a good word for you,” Mel said, his smile returning. “I haven’t ruined a shirt this week, so I might be on her good side.”
* * *
JUNE GOT TO the Midway Theater an hour before the first show. She put on the soundtrack and ran through her part. Why am I so nervous? The eleven o’clock show would probably draw a crowd of eighty-five people. She’d danced in front of thousands, night after night.
But this was her show. Expectations from her dancers and herself were higher than the lights over Broadway. Because June’s knee would get a good test. It was strong, she knew that. The summer had been good for her knee. How would it feel after twenty shows?
“This would be a whole lot easier if you weren’t taller than the average man,” Gloria said, bustling through the stage door with costumes draped over her arm. “Some of these seams aren’t perfect, but you take what you get when you give a gal two hours to make six costumes. Lucky I had patterns and material ready and plenty of help.”
Gloria held out an arm draped with costumes.
June hugged her. “Thank you. I haven’t been this excited since you made my prom dress when I was a senior.”
“I’d rather be making you a wedding dress. Pretty girl like you ought to get married before you get much closer to thirty.”
June laughed. “When I’m thirty, I’ll come see you about that.”
Gloria scrunched her lips. “You better try these on. Time’s running short.”
* * *
ON THE SECOND day of June’s substitute dancing position, Mel picked up Ross from the hotel day care in time to catch the five o’clock show in the Midway Theater. Because June had been performing during the parade, Mel had personally picked up and delivered his son to and from his job as parade grand marshal. He sure would be glad when June was back on the parade route.
“I’m hungry, Dad,” Ross said.
“Me, too. Can you wait until after the show? I thought we’d see if Miss June would like to have dinner with us.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll get you some M&M’s in the lobby. You can eat them during the show.”
“Awesome!” he said, smiling.
If only it were that easy to please everyone.
They got there early enough to grab seats in the front, where Ross wouldn’t be stuck behind someone tall with a big head. Mel had no trouble seeing over everyone, but he didn’t want his son bobbing back and forth in his seat and driving the person behind him nuts.
“I didn’t know Miss June was in the show,” Ross whispered as the curtains split and June was front and center, only a few feet away from them. “I thought she was the piano player.”
“Shh,” Mel said. “I’ll explain after the show.”
He sat back, transfixed. He’d seen part of this show while other dancers were practicing. But other dancers were not June Hamilton.
There was something magical about her performance. Her sureness, grace, energy and smile were like the other dancers, but beyond.
She was a professional.
Her love of dancing was obvious in every step. When she took the microphone to sing, Ross elbowed his dad and whispered “Wow” loud enough for people two rows back to hear. Mel knew June saw him and Ross in the front section. She smiled at them, making eye contact with each.
Mel recognized some of the music. Although not an expert on musical theater, the songs were part of the popular culture. He’d heard them before, but listening to June sing was like hearing the songs for the first time.
The show ended, and Ross stood up, clapping enthusiastically.
“Can we eat now?” he asked when the curtains closed and people around them started heading up the aisle toward the entrance.
“Almost. Let’s go around back and see if Miss June is available.”
Mel waited until the theater emptied. He knew there was one more show but hoped June had time for dinner. He took the side steps and pushed aside the curtain. He’d been on the stage dozens of times, checking the wiring and doing other maintenance, but now he felt as if he was intruding. Maybe it was the closed curtain, the aura left by the show. This was a performer’s world, not his world.
“The Preston men,” June said when Mel and Ross came through the curtains. She was in the wings, almost hidden by the dim lighting.
“I hope we’re allowed back here,” Mel said.
“We’re hungry,” Ross said.
June smiled. “I’m hungry, too.”
“She said yes, Dad.”
Mel ruffled his son’s hair.
“What have I said yes to?”
“Do you have time for a quick dinner before your next show? It’s Ross’s night to cook so we’re cheating and eating out.”
June grinned and nodded. “I could use something to eat. Can you give me five minutes to change?” She slipped out of her dance shoes and took off her silver vest as she spoke.
“Sure,” Mel said, swallowing hard. The sight of June, her cheeks and eyes still alight with excitement, was a test of his resolve. “Want to go to t
he Midway Buffet?”
“I only have about forty-five minutes,” June said, “but the buffet is fast. Does Ross like the food there?”
“Garbage disposal, remember?”
Ross smiled. “They have mini corn dogs.”
Ten minutes later, the three of them navigated the buffet line. June had her own plastic tray, but Mel juggled his food and his son’s on one tray.
“I’m buying,” Mel said as they slid their trays along the silver grooves in the counter at the register.
“Thank you. This is the nicest date I’ve had in a long time.”
Mel raised one eyebrow and grinned.
“Almost,” June whispered so Ross wouldn’t hear.
Mel smiled.
They found a table by the front window where they could watch people go by on the midway.
“We loved the show,” Mel said. “You’re an amazing performer.”
“Can you believe it was my first time dancing?” June asked, winking at Ross.
“Right,” Mel said. “I searched the internet for some of the shows you told me you were in. Watched videos on YouTube.”
Mel felt his heart slow down and almost stop. He had not planned to confess that. She glanced up from her soup and salad, an unreadable expression on her face. If he had to describe her look in one word, it would be caution.
“Really?” she said. “I didn’t know you were interested in musical theater.”
“He did,” Ross confirmed. “We watched a bunch of videos. You looked like a cat in one of them.”
“That was the idea,” June said. “We all dressed like cats. What else did you see?”
“You were a cowgirl in the one show. You even had a fake gun.”
“How do you know it was fake?” June asked.
Ross’s eyes rounded with excitement. “They let you use a real gun?”
“Just kidding.”
“It’s amazing what you can find on YouTube,” Mel said. He thought he should get in on the conversation before his five-year-old son took it in the wrong direction.
“So you saw Cats and Oklahoma!,” June said. “How about Hello, Dolly!? There are huge dance numbers in that one, but it was probably hard to spot me.”
“You wore a pink dress,” Mel said. Crap. His mouth betrayed him before his brain remembered to tread easy.
June’s face colored and she put down her spoon. “I’m going to refill my drink,” she said.
Maybe he’d gone too far.
“Is she mad we Googled her?” Ross asked after June walked to the beverage counter.
Mel shook his head. “I don’t know, but we should probably talk about something else when she comes back.”
June returned with a full glass of iced water. “Thirsty,” she said. “All that dancing.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Ross went back for a fresh plate and another stab at the kids’ buffet area.
“So you stalked me online,” June said, a forkful of salad poised in midair. “Did you watch any videos of my favorite show, Pippin?”
Mel nodded. “Are you mad?”
Her eyebrows drew together as if she was thinking about her answer. Mel held his breath. “No,” she finally said. “Just surprised. It’s nice and I...didn’t expect it.”
Mel glanced over to the kids’ buffet area and noticed Ross carefully using the tongs to put more mini corn dogs on his plate. He was well trained.
He turned his attention back to June. “I tried watching Pippin. I liked the music, but I couldn’t understand what the heck was going on,” Mel confessed.
“Here’s the thirty-second summary. A young man thirsts to see the world and whatever is out there for him. He doesn’t want to settle for the life his parents have planned for him. So he goes on a journey and discovers—”
She stopped.
“What does he discover?” Mel prompted.
Ross careened back to his seat, flopping down with a full plate of corn dogs and Tater Tots, some of which rolled onto the table.
“Looks like you’re getting your money’s worth,” June said.
Mel laughed. “Ross is eating your share. Are you sure you only want soup and that tiny salad?”
“I have one more show tonight, and I don’t think I can dance on a stomach full of heavy carbs.”
Mouth full, Ross nodded agreeably. “One time I ate too much and threw up in the car on the way home.”
Mel reached across the table and took Ross’s plate. “Maybe we should cut you off.”
“I should go,” June said. “It’s not long until the next show.”
“Want me to empty your tray for you?” Ross asked.
“Sure.”
The boy picked up June’s empty tray and headed for the trash and tray station.
“He doesn’t sit still for long, does he?” June asked.
Mel shrugged. “He’s a five-year-old boy. I have no idea how school is going to go this fall. He’s just starting kindergarten since he has a July 29 birthday. I could have pushed him to go last year, but I wasn’t ready to give him up yet.”
“I can understand that,” June said.
Could June really understand what it was like to love someone so much it was like sharing one heart? That’s how Mel had felt the moment he held his son for the first time. If June hadn’t left seven years ago...if Ross was their son...
That line of thinking was so tempting, but so pointless. Dangerous.
“I know you’re booked solid tomorrow and the next day with five shows,” Mel said, “but when the dust settles, would you like to do something together? Adults only?”
Living dangerously...
June stood.
She was going to say no.
“Sure. We’ll talk in a day or two when I can breathe again.”
Maybe June didn’t feel what he felt—that he could only breathe when he was with her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IT WAS BITTERSWEET, getting ready to dance her last show. Brooke was due back tonight and would step into her role tomorrow, just two days ahead of the big July Fourth holiday. As far as June knew, this show would be her last time taking the stage at Starlight Point.
She felt wonderful. The audience would be close enough to touch. The familiar stage, worn by time, was every inch a part of her. June almost hated to hand the spotlight back to Brooke, but it was time she took up her other responsibilities. The parade, managing the theaters and helping her siblings run Starlight Point had suffered as she’d danced five shows a day for the past four days.
Fifteen minutes before June went onstage, Megan found her backstage. “There are three people out front who say they know you. Friends from New York.”
“Really? Did they give their names?”
“Cassie, Macy and Ian.”
What? Her three best friends, the only solid ones she had in New York, were all doing off-Broadway work for the summer. What are they doing here?
“Are they seated in the audience?”
“Front row,” Megan said. “When I told them you were subbing in for a dancer, they said they wanted to see the show and they’d meet up with you after.”
Okay, now she was nervous as a first-year dancer. She loved her friends, but just thinking about having them in the audience raised her heart rate. What if they thought her show was amateurish and small town? Compared to Broadway...well, it wasn’t fair to compare summer theater in the Midwest with the shows on Times Square.
They were her friends. They were not going to judge her. But why are they here at Starlight Point?
The curtains opened, the music started, and June took the stage with the other ten dancers. Although she tried not to look, she saw her friends in the front row. Smiling and watch
ing her every move. Of course they would know the music, recognize some of the dance steps even. June had been in Cats with Macy, Oklahoma! with Ian, Hello, Dolly! with Cassie, and they were all in the recent revival of Pippin as troupe dancers. They shared the same talent agent, which was probably the reason they often ended up in shows together. In the crazy competitive world of Broadway, they’d become friends, watching out for each other. June shared a small apartment with Cassie but hadn’t talked with her in weeks.
As soon as the show ended and the audience cleared, June peeked out the curtain. They were waiting near their seats. She rushed out and hugged them all.
“What are you doing here? I didn’t think any of you had ever been west of Manhattan,” June exclaimed.
“Research,” Macy said. “Guess what show just announced a casting call?”
“Carousel,” Ian gushed.
“You were supposed to let her guess,” Cassie admonished him.
June laughed. “I already knew. Our agent called me. He seemed to think I was a shoo-in for a musical that involves an amusement park.”
“But?” Ian asked. “I hear a but.”
“But the casting call is next week and rehearsals start in a month,” June said. “I can’t do it. I’ve committed to being here through September.”
Cassie put her arm around June. “We’re here to talk you out of that.”
“I thought you were here for research.”
“That, too,” Macy said. “How about a ride on the carousel and then you come over to the hotel for drinks? We only have two days off from our off-Broadway South Pacific and we want to have some fun.”
“What hotel are you staying at?” June asked.
“Yours. The old fancy one on the beach,” Ian said.
“The Lake Breeze? I happen to know the bartender there and he’ll take good care of us. You guys can stagger back to your rooms and I’ll find my way home somehow.”
“Home?” Cassie asked.
“My parents’ house is just across the main parking lot. It’s my home for the summer. Don’t worry,” June said. “I’ll be back on Times Square in the fall.”
