Carousel Nights by Amie Denman

inside the theater on new shows, costumes and choreography.
    In fact, she was still there. Playing the piano on stage while two dancers perfected a romantic routine. Young lovers spun and dipped, looking into each other’s eyes and smiling as they held their position right at the front of the stage.
    â€œAgain,” June said, playing and watching the dancers, nodding. How does she play the piano with both hands while talking to people and watching them dance ? He knew she was talented, of course, but he’d never really thought about what that entailed. When it came to wiring, fixing roller coasters, hydraulic brakes and keeping Starlight Point running, he had skills. He was also a master at applying Band-Aids and juggling fatherhood. But June’s light shone so brightly, no wonder she didn’t want to be shaded by the family business. Even in the dim light of the theater, she was something special.
    â€œCool,” Ross said. “Can I watch the show?”
    â€œThey’re just practicing right now, but you can watch for a minute. Sit here,” Mel said, shepherding him to a seat right off the main aisle and catching June’s eye for a moment.
    He didn’t need her to watch Ross. His son was used to being in every nook and cranny of Starlight Point and he knew the cardinal rules: don’t interrupt and don’t touch anything. Ross would sit quietly and wait for him. It should only take five minutes to make sure the box had been tagged by the electrical inspector so June would be safe pulling enough amps in here to light a city.
    * * *
    O N TOP OF BEING dog-tired from all-day dress rehearsals, June lost the power of concentration as soon as a prickle down the back of her neck warned her that Mel was coming through the front door. People had been in and out of the theater all day, working on the snack bar, cleaning, training new ushers and technicians. She was used to ignoring interruptions, but she’d never developed a knack for ignoring Mel.
    Without taking her eyes off the performers in front of her, she followed his progress up the center aisle and heard the soft creak of the theater seat. She allowed herself a look, and an unspoken agreement to keep watch over Ross passed between her and Mel. Mel moved behind her, heading, she imagined, for the maintenance closet and new electrical panels.
    She’d vaguely followed the progress of two other electricians throughout the week. June had stayed out of their way, wondering when Mel might come by to check their work. She knew he would eventually because he treated projects at the Point like they were his personal property, never letting anything slide that could cause a problem later.
    â€œGood enough,” she told the dancers after she’d run them through the song one more time, partly for Ross’s benefit since he appeared to be engrossed in the show. “You’ll be ready to dazzle the day after tomorrow.” The dancers needed rest, and this show, with or without more fussing from her, was going to be the best one the Point had staged in her lifetime. She hoped .
    The stage empty, she turned on the bench to face the lone audience member.
    â€œDo you want to come up here?” she asked.
    Ross launched from his seat and pulled himself onto the stage, working one short leg up and then the other. He could have used the steps, but he seemed to enjoy the challenge.
    â€œYou’ve been up here before, haven’t you?” she asked.
    â€œYeah. But it’s cooler now.”
    â€œI hope so. I’m trying. And we did a lot of work to this theater.”
    Ross wandered over to the piano and slipped onto the bench next to June. Like most kids, he blissfully ignored the laws of personal space. His hair was the same sandy color as his father’s, and he had an irresistible grin, but his eyes were darker and more serious than Mel’s. He reached a tentative hand onto the keys.
    â€œGo ahead. You