“Hi, I’m—”
“Charlotte Page.” The girl said it with considerable awe in her voice.
“That’s right.”
“I’ve seen you dance,” she said. “I have season tickets to the Chicago City Ballet.”
“Oh.” Charlotte wasn’t sure how to respond. Typically, ballet dancers didn’t have the same kinds of fans as celebrities. She’d signed programs for many young girls, and stopped to chat with the gray-haired crowd, many of whom had a “lovely grandson I’d love to introduce you to”—but it wasn’t often Charlotte was recognized, in street clothes no less.
It made her feel self-conscious.
“What are you doing in Harbor Pointe?” the girl asked.
“I was a friend of Julianna’s,” Charlotte said.
“She told me. But I never would’ve thought you’d actually come here.”
Charlotte smiled. “I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help out.”
“Here?” The girl sounded as shocked as she looked.
Charlotte laughed. “Yes, here.”
“Oh, wow. What did you have in mind? I’m Brinley Watson, by the way, Jules’s assistant.”
Charlotte shook the girl’s hand. “It’s good to meet you.” She looked around the space. “Show me around?”
Brinley grinned. “Happy to.” She led her down the hall where Julianna had everything she needed for the perfect dance studio. Two large spaces with windows for parental viewing and ample seating throughout.
“During the week, this space is full and loud. This is the only dance studio in Harbor Pointe, so Julianna has all the kids.” She faltered. “Had all the kids.” Her face fell.
The pang of sorrow returned. Charlotte quickly replaced it with thoughts of Julianna in this space. She’d never seen her friend teach, but she didn’t have to to know she was amazing at it.
Brinley turned on the light in one of the dance studios. “This is Studio A. It’s a smidge bigger than the back studio.”
“How many teachers are there?”
“Julianna and two others. Jules taught most of the classes. I teach a few of the little kids’ classes, but I’m a novice and really more of an administrator. I shouldn’t even really be talking to you.”
Charlotte’s mind started spinning. “Do you have a copy of the schedule?”
“We’re kind of frozen, actually. We didn’t get to do the spring recital. Without Julianna, everything just kind of stopped. She just handled so much of it herself. The kids were devastated.”
Charlotte saw the disappointment in Brinley’s face.
“I mean, they were devasted about Jules most of all,” she quickly added. “We all were.”
“Where is the recital held?”
“In this great theatre outside of town,” Brinley said. “There’s an old campground with a lodge and cabins and a surprisingly cool performance space.”
“Sounds different,” Charlotte said.
“It is,” Brinley said. “It’s been getting harder every year to convince the owner, Mr. Kent, to let us rent it, but he had a soft spot for Jules. Said she reminded him of his oldest daughter. She’s on Broadway.”
“Wow,” Charlotte said. “Do they have a lot of events out there?”
Brinley shook her head. “They used to. Mr. Kent and his wife put on the most amazing musicals. Turned that place into a real tourist attraction, but about five years ago, the wife died and Silas practically boarded up the place. I don’t think he ever recovered.”
Charlotte thought of Connor. Would it be the same for him?
“We were just a few weeks away from the performance, but then Jules—” She looked away. “Well, I don’t know how to do it without her.”
“That must be hard.”
Brinley’s face fell. “I feel like I’m letting her down. She loved these kids like they were her own. If she knew we didn’t see it through, after all their hard work . . .” Brinley shook her head, leaving the unfinished thought dangling in the air.
Charlotte took a few steps into the studio. “Do you think the students remember their dances?”
Brinley nodded. “Definitely. They worked on them all semester. They’re like little sponges.”
“What if we went ahead and did it?” Charlotte asked, the idea still forming in her mind as she spoke.
“The recital?”
Charlotte nodded. “As a tribute to Jules. Like, a memorial or a celebration of her life.” A wave of excitement rose in her chest.
“You think her family would be okay with that?” A line of worry deepened in Brinley’s forehead. “Connor hasn’t been doing that great.”
Charlotte stilled. That was an understatement. “I think it’s worth a shot. Maybe it would even be helpful. And we could announce that we’re going to keep the studio going—if Connor agrees to sell it to me.”
Brinley’s eyes widened. “You want to buy this place?”
Charlotte felt her cheeks flush. “I was hoping to.”
The younger woman seemed to be holding in a squeal.
“Don’t say anything, though,” Charlotte said. “It’s not a done deal or anything.”
Brinley pressed her lips together and ran her index finger and thumb over them in a straight line like an imaginary zipper. “I won’t say a word. It would be a great way to introduce you to the community,” Brinley said. “And maybe it would get Amelia dancing again.”
Charlotte frowned. “Amelia’s not dancing?”
Brinley shook her head. “Not since the accident. It’s really sad because that little girl loves to dance.”
Charlotte sat with that for a moment. “That’s upsetting.”
Brinley nodded. “Maybe you’re right—maybe this will help.”
“And what if we added a few tribute dances for Jules? Just to make it about her—give the kids a chance to say goodbye,” Charlotte said. “You know, if we can convince people who were close to her to do it?”
Brinley smiled. “What a great idea.”
“Yeah?” Charlotte couldn’t help it—the compliment encouraged her.
“Definitely.” Out of nowhere, Brinley gasped. “And oh, my goodness, Charlotte! You could perform!” Her voice kicked up to its higher register.
Charlotte laughed. “I’m retired.”
Brinley gasped. “What?”
One look at her face and the wave of self-doubt washed over Charlotte again. You’re making a terrible mistake.
“Long story,” Charlotte said lamely.
“Jules always performed a solo to close out the night,” Brinley said. “And Connor always performed a number with Amelia.”
Charlotte’s stomach twisted. How were they going to make that happen? “Let’s worry about that later—can you reach out to the parents and secure a new date with the theatre?”
“I can do that,” Brinley said. “We’ll bring the students back in and the other teachers and I will refresh their memories on the recital dances and push the performance date to late July or early August? Would that be enough time?”