by Amie Denman
A large chocolate lab with shiny fur and big brown eyes poked its head through Nate’s door. The dog wore a collar, but a long purple leash dragged on the ground.
“Gladys,” Henry said. “Where did you lose your owner?”
“You know this dog?”
Henry nodded. “Virginia’s. She sprung her from the humane society at the end of the summer.” He got up and rubbed an affectionate hand over the dog’s head. He picked up the leash and leaned into the hallway. “Virginia?” he called.
“In June’s office,” Virginia answered from down the hall.
“I’ve got Gladys.”
“I knew she wouldn’t get far. Be right there.”
Henry stood at Nate’s door with the leash looped around his hand. Gladys sat and wagged her tail as Nate approached and put out his hand to shake one of the dog’s long slender paws. “I like dogs,” he said. “They’re not complicated.”
“You should get one. Might be good therapy for your dad, too.”
Nate considered the idea. He hadn’t had a pet in years. His mother had a cat that outlived her by a few years. He remembered his father and sister sobbing when Beatrice had died... It had been like reliving his mother’s death.
He wasn’t ready for a cat. But a dog? Alice was a dog person. Her family had two dogs when they’d dated. Did they still have those dogs? Five years was a long time in the life of a human, but almost half a lifetime for dogs. He wanted to ask Alice if those matching beagles still slept behind the couch in her parents’ living room. What were their names? Hector and...the memory escaped him.
Virginia appeared in the doorway. “We were just going home to take a walk on the beach,” she said.
“It’s a beautiful evening. I was thinking of microwaving a chicken pot pie and eating it on my porch,” Henry said. He handed the leash to Virginia, who ran it through her fingers as if she was thinking about something.
“I have frozen dinners and a porch,” Virginia said. “And Gladys likes your company.”
Henry put a hand on the dog’s head. “I feel the same way about her.”
They walked down the hall together and June came by a moment later.
“Did you just see that?” she asked Nate.
“I’m not sure what I saw.”
“I think I saw my mother going on a date.”
Nate smiled. “I heard something about chicken pot pie and a porch. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
June rolled her eyes and knocked on the door across the hall. “You in there, Alice?”
To his surprise, Alice gave a muffled response. He hadn’t realized she’d been right there while he talked to Henry with his office door open. Even if she had listened in, which he doubted, she wouldn’t have heard anything she didn’t already know.
* * *
“MY MOTHER WASN’T very sympathetic,” June said, dropping into Alice’s chair. “I don’t think she remembers what it was like when we were all little and Dad worked late. Sometimes I look at the clock and count the hours until bath and bedtime.”
“How old is Abigail?” Alice asked.
“One and a half. She’ll be two in January.”
“That sounds like a fun age. One of my sisters who has little kids says the days are long but the years are short.”
“You have two sisters?” June asked.
Alice nodded. “One married and one semi-engaged.”
“You’ve probably heard Evie is pregnant. It will be nice to share the chaos of motherhood with her. For her sake, I hope Scott helps out a lot, especially during the operating season.”
“Does Mel often work late?”
“Two nights a week during the summer, same as me. We’re trading back and forth on these fall weekends.”
“Do you think he looks at the clock and counts the hours until bath and bedtime on those nights when you work late?” Alice asked.
June wrinkled her nose. “I see what you’re doing.”
Alice leaned back in her padded desk chair and crossed one leg over the other. “I was just asking a question, trying to establish the facts.”
“Complaining is more fun.”
“Tell me about the Halloween-themed show you’re getting ready for the Midway Theater,” Alice said.
“You’re changing the subject before I get around to asking why a gorgeous single girl like you is unattached.”
“What kind of show was that again?” Alice asked with a smile. The last thing she wanted to do was admit she was once engaged to the man who occupied the office across the hall. June was a friend, but it was too raw, even after five years. She’d put those feelings in storage, but Nate showing up had opened the box.
“Fun stuff,” June said. “Classic horror movie soundtracks and monster-themed songs. I had to beg Gloria to make us some new costume pieces, even though we tried to reuse some of the summer ones. We added orange vests and masquerade masks. A few top hats decked out with bats and spiderwebs.”
“Will those be hard to dance in?”
“Not for my performers. They’re used to costumes and crowds after singing and dancing all summer here. Some of them had to wear the moon and stars on their heads when they danced in the daily parade. I’m just lucky I got enough of them to come back for fall weekends to put on a show.”
“People will love it,” Alice said. “And the shows will be popular with guests who hate haunted houses.”
“And kids. It’s family-rated,” June said. “I had Ross preview it and he declared it—” June paused and used air quotes “—way not scary. He’s nine, he would know.”
“I love Ross,” Alice said. “He’s cute and funny, and he looks just like a miniature version of his dad.”
June nodded. “He’s from Mel’s first marriage. She was a performer here at the Point who didn’t stick around.”
“Did they get married here?” Alice had guessed that June and Mel were a second-chance romance because June had mentioned a long hiatus in their relationship, but she hadn’t asked details about how they got together.
“No, in Bayside. Mel’s mother showed me a picture once, even though Mel didn’t keep any evidence.”
Alice thought of the pictures her mother had snapped of her trying on her wedding dress. Those pictures were in a shoebox in her parents’ attic along with pictures of Nate she collected during their two-year relationship.
There was a picture of the two of them at Starlight Point, taken on a sunny Saturday after they’d graduated from high school. He’d dared her to ride the Silver Streak, and she’d taken the challenge by getting on the coaster five times in a row. Her hair was wild and windblown in the picture and she had a reckless smile. When she tried to remember Nate’s smile in the photo, she could only picture the dispassionate one she’d grown accustomed to. Was it always that way?
“They were married for about five minutes, I guess,” June continued.
“I hate when marriages go bad, especially after all the money and effort people put into the ceremony.” Alice sighed. “I always hope for happy endings.”
She thought of her expensive wedding dress her father had worked overtime to pay for. It still hung in the closet of the spare bedroom at her parents’ house. Every time her parents hosted out of town guests, Alice quietly moved it to the back of her own closet. At least it only happened once a year or so. And it wouldn’t be long now before she paid her parents back. It was going to feel so good.
“Mel got a happy ending, the second time around,” June said. “I’m the one he should have married in the first place, but we were too young to know that.” June took a mint from a bowl on Alice’s desk and unwrapped it. The clear cellophane wrapper crackled loudly in the quiet office. Nearly everyone else had gone home for the day.
Someone knocked on Alice’s office door and she called, “Come in.”
“Sorry to bother you,” Nate said as he stuck his head in her office. “I just wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay,” Alice said. So far, Nate had only voluntarily entered her office when he got the wrong sandwich. And that was only once. This had to be an important business matter.
Nate looked at June and then back at Alice. “It’s about your dogs. The beagles.”
Had the floor opened up and delivered her into another dimension? Nate was bringing up a personal subject—with a witness?
“I was trying to remember their names. Hector and...?”
“Homer,” Alice said, completely befuddled but her tongue quickly supplying the answer. The two dogs had been inseparable all their lives. Even their names went together.
Nate nodded. “Hector and Homer. That’s right. Are they...?”
Alice shook her head. “They were getting old when we were—I mean, they were getting up there in age. They passed away a year or two ago.”
“Oh,” Nate said. “Sorry. I was talking to Henry about dogs and I—well, I should go.”
He backed away and pulled the door shut. His footsteps moved quickly down the hallway as if he were practically running.
Alice turned and opened a window to let the cool autumn air fan her cheeks. When she turned back around, June was staring at her as if she’d never seen her before.
Instead of commenting, Alice sliced open a box of wedding samples on a table near her desk and started pulling them out. “This engraved one is gorgeous, but it has to be really expensive,” she said. “Still, there might be some brides who—”
“Start talking,” June said.
“I am.”
“About the dogs.”
“Hector and Homer were from the same litter,” Alice said evenly. Her mind raced but she paced her words. “My aunt found them in the woods near her house and we adopted them when I was about ten. My sister was reading some book about mythology at the time and she named them.”
“And Nate knows about them how?”
“Everyone knows about Greek mythology.”
“I mean the beagles.”
“He’s from Bayside,” Alice said, hoping the explanation would be enough.
“Did he live next door to you or date one of your sisters?”
“No.”
“Was he a professional dog walker during high school?” June asked.
“Would you believe me if I said yes?”
“No.”
“Nate and I used to...know each other.”
“In high school?”
“And after,” Alice said. “But we went our separate ways then, and we like to keep our past and present separate now.”
“Which is why he was just in here trying to remember the names of your family dogs.”
Alice’s heart fell down an elevator shaft in her body. “I have no idea what brought that on. Maybe it was seeing your mother’s dog.”
June swished her lips to the side in a skeptical slant. “Sure. My mother’s chocolate lab Gladys would remind anyone of two beagles named Hector and Homer.”
Alice nodded. “Only explanation I can think of,” she said. But what was the reason Nate was digging around in the past?
CHAPTER NINE
THE WEDDING ON the first Friday of October had two potential locations depending upon the weather. Alice had the ballroom reserved, but the bride truly wanted the wedding to take place at the midway carousel. Because her father was the publisher of the Bayside Times and several other newspapers in Michigan, his money was squarely behind whatever his daughter wanted.
“I think he bought off the weather gods,” Alice told Haley. “When is it sunny and seventy degrees in October?”
“Today,” Haley said. She picked up one end of a roll of white carpet runner. “This is as heavy as wet laundry.”
“I’ll help,” Henry said. “You hold it down, and I’ll unroll it.”
Alice placed name cards on the rows of white chairs while Henry carefully unrolled and smoothed the white runner. The midway had been swept clean by the grounds crew, and Alice and her decorators showed up early as soon as they were certain of sunny skies.
“How many people are invited?” Henry asked.
“A million,” Haley said.
Alice laughed. “Two hundred. But more for the reception. I’m only labeling the first five rows of chairs on both sides of the aisle, and the rest of the guests can decide for themselves where to sit.”
Each of the place cards matched the wedding’s carousel theme, including ornately painted horses. The bridesmaids would wear jewel-toned dresses, and the carousel would be in operation while the guests found their seats. Pure magic. The bride had told Alice she wanted her wedding guests to remember the event the rest of their lives.
“Never get tired of carousel music,” Henry said.
“Gotta be kidding me,” Haley grumbled. “How long have you worked here?”
Henry shrugged. “All summer.”
Haley shoved her dark hair back from her face. “I’ve worked here all summer, too, and I’m thinking of unplugging that stupid organ.”
Alice stopped taping deep blue, red and purple bows on the sides of the chairs along the aisle and straightened up.
“You’re not going to like this,” she told Haley. “The bride’s father didn’t pay the usual fee to have a wedding at Starlight Point. Instead, he pledged a lot of money to have the carousel restored.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not at all. Horses will be repainted in their original 1920s colors, motor rebuilt, and—the best part—the original Wurlitzer organ will be louder and more beautiful than ever if you come back next summer.”
Haley crossed her arms over her chest. “I think I’ll get a job at Disneyland instead.”
“They have a carousel,” Henry said. “I flew out of Anaheim a few thousand times.”
“But everything else at Disneyland is so loud you won’t be able to hear the carousel,” Haley said.
“You may have a point there,” Henry agreed. He turned to Alice. “Why the big deal with the carousel?”
“It’s a father-daughter thing from what I understand. I guess they loved to come here in the summer and ride this carousel—and the one in the Wonderful West—over and over. The father of the bride is also on a museum board and has connections with artists who restore these national treasures.” Alice emphasized the last two words while grinning at Haley, who rolled her eyes.
“Is it too late to hope for rain?”
“Yes,” Alice said. “This will be the wedding of the year so far. After the ceremony, the bridal party and guests get a ride on the carousel, and then everyone troops down the midway to the ballroom for a champagne lunch with a live band. It may not be the wedding of your dreams, but it’s a dream wedding for the bride and that’s what counts.”
“It’s going to be a long day,” Haley said. “The haunted houses open tonight, and I’m planning to go through them if I still have any energy after this wedding.”
“You’ll have time for a nap,” Alice assured her. “The wedding reception ends late afternoon, and the haunted houses don’t open until almost dark.”
Haley sighed and opened one of the long white boxes the florist had delivered just an hour before. She pulled out a garland of fresh roses wound around a green wire. The red roses were complimented by gold and jewel-toned ribbons.
“Lucky for us,” Alice continued. “The grounds crew already removed the skeletons and other Halloween decorations from the carousel. They’ll put them back later today. For now, all you have to do is drape one of those garlands around the necks of all the horses on the outside row.”
“Like they’ve just won the Kentucky Derby,” Henry announced. “That would be quite a feat in their case.”
&n
bsp; “Okay, I officially give up being grumpy about the carousel,” Haley said. “This is so over-the-top that I’m starting to like it.”
“I feel the same way,” Alice said. “I doubt I’ll top this one anytime soon.”
As Haley festooned the horses with rose garlands, Henry helped Alice with the rest of the setup. At the metal railing where guests usually waited in line for the carousel, they placed heavy urns and filled them with flowers.
“The wedding pictures will be beautiful,” Alice said as she used her hand to frame a shot with the flowered urns and carousel in the background.
A group of people walked into her view of the carousel. Two of them had their cell phones out and were taking pictures.
“Hello,” Alice said. Of the four people, the only one she knew was Nate. Who was he showing around just hours before a huge wedding?
Nate approached her and his guests followed. “These are friends of the bride’s father.” He introduced the two men and a woman. “From the National Carousel Association.”
“Nice to meet you,” Alice said, shaking hands and trying to remember their names.
“So this is it,” Nate said, sweeping his hand toward the old-fashioned carousel. “Is it worth a massive restoration?”
“Any functioning carousel from the golden age of American merry-go-rounds is worthwhile,” the woman said. “And this one is a beauty. Jack Hamilton told us that aside from fresh paint on the saddles every year and new lightbulbs, it’s pretty much original.” Her attention shifted to the rows of white chairs and flowered urns. “We’re invited to the wedding today, too. Isn’t it a wonderful idea to have it here?”
“Wonderful,” Alice agreed.
“What a fun job you have,” the woman continued. “I would just love to go to wedding after wedding and see the dresses and cakes and decorations. Maybe I missed my calling.”
“It’s never too late,” Alice said. “And if you love weddings, you could always have a ceremony of your own and renew your vows.”
The woman laughed. “Too risky. I’m afraid if my husband got a second chance to say yes or no, he might leave me at the altar.”
