When the Music Stops (30 page)

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Two days later, Marta’s mom returned to the studio with a packet of papers in her hands and a smile on her lips. “It looks like I’m buying the studio. Mr. Gleason assured me that with a thirty-year loan, I’ll be able to make payments and buy the building. We’ll need to talk with Lindsay about buying the business with a separate agreement.”

“Why is Mr. Gleason willing to go out on a limb for you?” Marta asked as she sank down onto the entry cushions.

“He’s frustrated and ready to retire,” her mom said. “He doesn’t like the ethics of some of his fellow loan officers. Also, it doesn’t hurt that he’s heard about you from his wife’s brother, who is on the community theatre committee. It appears that you have made a favorable impression and you didn’t even realize it.”

Knowing people in the community found value in what she’d done gave Marta renewed conviction in her decision. Maybe she’d consider dealing with her love life next. She headed upstairs but stopped to listen to her mom’s side of her conversation with Mr. Gleason.

Her mom looked up when she’d finished her call. “You heard me tell him we’re in the midst of a recital, but they might need to inspect it immediately so we need to get busy. Have you noticed how important things wait and then cascade down like huge waves?”

Marta chuckled. “Oh, believe me, I know.” She stood and stretched side to side. “Better get out a notice about your plans with the rehearsal and recital information. Maybe this time we’ll announce the news before Zandora gets wind of it and distorts it.”

By the following afternoon, the studio phone rang so often that Marta’s mom hired a parent to sit and answer it so she and Marta could complete details for tonight’s dress rehearsal. One small blessing: the hectic pace didn’t allow Marta time to dwell on either Steve or Sam.

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The parents and students filled the main floor of the Coontz auditorium as Marta, with her mom beside her, stepped onto the stage to speak with everyone. “Please be seated as quickly as possible. We have a lot to cover tonight. We need to be out of the building by nine o’clock, so we’d appreciate everyone picking up after themselves.

“As in the past, we’re slowing things down so you students may watch the entire program. During the real recital, you’ll not be seated in the audience. You’ll be in classrooms waiting for your turn to dance and then returning there to wait for your parents to pick you up. We expect you to be on your best behavior tonight and tomorrow, to be ready on time to dance, and, most of all, to have fun sharing your dances with the audience.

“Our first dance for our
Imagine
theme will be the two kinder classes dancing their “Twinkle, Twinkle” dance, followed by the beginning ballet class dance, “When You Wish Upon a Star
.”
When we turn down the lights, that’s your cue to sit quietly. We’ll call your classes up in groups of three.”

Everyone clapped and started talking. When the lights dimmed to half, the students and their parents stopped chattering and sat back.

Three hours later, Marta and her mom sat on the apron of the stage and looked out over the empty seats. “Not bad for our first recital rehearsal together,” Marta said. “But I’m so tired I don’t know if I can move off this spot.”

Her mom laughed. “Me too.” She looked at her watch. “It’s time to head out. Let’s call it a night and meet tomorrow morning to iron out the glitches.”

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Recital day. No classes, just time spent ironing out small problems and checking that Lindsay knew the evening’s order of dances, except for the special tribute planned in her honor. The recital committee parents had gathered cards, money, and gifts from dancers and families and arranged everything in a large basket along with a huge bouquet of red and white roses. After the finale, everyone was cued into staying for a special celebration commemorating Lindsay’s ten years as owner and director of the Holland Dance Studio.

Lights, costumes, makeup, and an audience of family, friends, and relatives combined to make a recital memorable for the dance students. Wrong turns, sassy show-off moves, and kinder tears set the stage for the evening. With Marta standing in the wings and Lindsay seated nearby, the young students danced with greater confidence than if left on their own.

The music followed the theme of
Imagine
with wishing, dreaming, and finding happiness. The intermediate ballet students and first year pointe dancers took every step seriously, the way Marta remembered herself. Almost perfect toes and arms and students pulling in their lips as they focused on getting everything correct resulted in encouraging applause. Relief to have completed their dances with few errors appeared in their shy smiles as they took their bows.

The advanced dancers, including Paige, gave the audience a glimpse of what years of training produced. They performed classical selections wearing costumes that matched the ballet themes. Their gracefulness and precision brought tears of joy to Marta as she remembered her performances and realized she’d be helping them further their skills over the next year. Staying on to teach was the correct decision.

As the final dance ended and the curtain closed, Marta stepped onto the stage in front of the curtain. “Thank you for coming tonight. We hope you enjoyed our theme,
Imagine
. Before you leave, we want to pay special tribute to Lindsay Holland. Her move to San Diego saddens us as dancers and friends, but we wish her our very best with her soon-to-be-born baby and her new home.”

Applause filled the auditorium.

“Lindsay and Adam, please join me on the stage.”

More applause and a few whistles filled the time it took Lindsay and Adam to arrive on stage. They smiled and waved as thundering applause greeted them. Marta’s mom joined them on the stage carrying the basket of gifts.

Marta signaled for quiet, then stepped back to the microphone. “On behalf of ten years of grateful students and parents, we want to present you with flowers and a basket of special gifts to thank you for starting the studio. We assure you and everyone in the community that we’ll keep Holland Dance Studio open for business. We hope you’ll return to Bremerton many times over the next years. May your baby be healthy and grow to be a wonderful person like both of you.”

Applause filled the auditorium as Lindsay accepted the gifts and wiped away tears. She moved to the microphone. “Thanks, everyone. Leaving is one of the most difficult things I’ve done in my life. But, after seeing how well everyone performed, and the quality of the dancing, I know I’m leaving the Holland Dance Studio in good hands. My wish for Elle and Marta is continued good fortune with all the new classes we’re providing this fall. For the rest of you, enjoy your summer and return to classes with renewed energy. Best of luck, everyone. I’ll stay in touch. Thanks.”

More applause followed Lindsay as she exited the stage. A cookie party in the front entry kept dancers and their families talking with Lindsay and each other until the custodian began dimming the lights. Within ten minutes the guests cleared out, leaving Marta, her mom, and the parent committee time to speak with Lindsay and Adam.

When the Hollands left, the hugs and goodbyes from dancers and parents alike continued to the doorway. They waved as they exited the building, giving Marta a feeling of sadness followed by elation to think that she and her mom planned to carry on a tradition that gave so many people such happiness.

Robert returned from checking the dressing rooms with a giant smile on his face. “All the rooms are clean and locked. The custodian only took his regular fees. Said he enjoyed the program and the lovely people who cleaned up after themselves. He’s sending his granddaughter down to arrange classes for her kinder boy. See, your planning yielded another potential client.”

Marta and her mom looked at each other and yawned amid their smiles. “Let’s head home,” her mom said. “I can sleep for at least a week, or until tomorrow afternoon.”

As Marta left the school, she saw Sam sitting on the bench by the front entrance. “Hi, hope you enjoyed the recital,” she said.

He stood and smiled. “It was a lot of fun, even when Betty started showing off, adding her little touches to her group dance. She’s a born performer.”

“She is. I’m glad she has such confidence. Will she continue with lessons next fall?”

“Of course. Will you be here?”

Marta smiled. “Maybe.”

Sam fidgeted, holding Betty’s dance tote. “You said we could talk after the recital, so I stayed in hopes of seeing you for a minute. Do you have any plans for summer? I thought maybe we could go to the county fair or for a swim at Kitsap Lake.”

Marta looked away before she spoke. “I’m not certain. I may have plans. I’ll let you know.” She placed her hand on Sam’s arm. “I have a lot to think about over the summer. Give Betty my best. Have a nice summer, Sam. I’ll call you.”

Sam’s smile faded. “Okay. Well…ah…have a nice summer yourself.” He backed down the steps, turned, and walked toward the parking lot.

Marta’s heart ached from brushing him off. But whatever she decided about Steve or Sam, she’d need a few weeks or maybe the summer to figure out how and where and with whom she wanted to spend her life.

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The light on the porch welcomed her home. So did a bouquet from Mark’s Flower Shop. She opened the tiny rose-colored envelope and removed the card.

Dear, sweet Marta,

I know the recital will be a gigantic success. You are talented and caring. That’s why I must tell you that I love you and that I dream of you every night.

Think of me,

S

Marta’s brain did a double take. Who was “S”—Steve or Sam? The accompanying florist information contained no details. Had Steve sent them to remind her he continued to think of her, or did Sam send them, and she’d just sent him away for the summer? Maybe if she called, the florist would be able to tell her more. Suddenly Monday seemed so far away.

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Sunday morning Marta slept in. Every muscle in her body ached, but the success of the recital put a smile in her heart. The flowers created a conundrum: Steve or Sam? If it was Steve, that meant he had not given up on her just yet and was waiting for her next move. Her conversation with Sam created a dark cloud she’d need to deal with after she took a brief break from classes, especially if he’d sent the flowers as a shy way of sharing his feelings. Maybe she’d get answers on Monday.

When she finished a cup of tea and a slice of cinnamon toast, she retrieved yesterday’s mail and found a letter from Lynne.

Dear Marta,

Waited for your call. Fat chance, huh, what with a recital to handle.

Hope the recital went well. Call me soon as you recover. I’ll be waiting to tell you about everything and maybe one special someone in my life that may keep me from swearing off dating altogether. Mr. Could Be Almost Perfect may be circling. If so, I’ll exchange my grumpy thoughts for a romantic movie, popcorn, and a few kisses in the theatre balcony.

Big news. I’m done dancing in good ole’ Billings. It would take me too many pages to write it all out. I’m too lazy to do it! Just know it’s all OK. Both Madame and I are happy about this. BUT...you need to call me before June 12th or it will be a long time until you hear from me again ‘cuz I’ll be G-O-N-E.

If I captured your curiosity, call me!

Lynne

Something had changed with Lynne. She didn’t mention her dad, so he must be feeling better. She didn’t mention her aunt moving or any of her usual funny views on life.

In the afternoon she dialed Lynne, waiting for the ringing to give way to her friend’s perky voice. After ten rings, Marta started to hang up when Lynne came on the phone breathing heavily.

“Hey, you called. How was your first recital from the other side of the lights?”

“It went well. Only a few tears during the dances, then buckets of tears when Lindsay said her goodbyes.”

“I bet. Wish I’d been there, but I’m home, planning my getaway. I was on my deck, sorting my boxes and tossing out junk when I heard the phone. Found it buried under a pile of clothes going to Goodwill. I take it you got my latest letter.”

“Yes. Even before that, Steve mentioned you had news. Then your cryptic letter arrived. What’s going on, Lynne?”

“Back up, Marta. When did you see Steve? How did that go?”

Marta sighed. “I saw him recently and it was a typical Marta-Steve reunion. We got into arguments about commitment and future plans. He left me holding the bag on where we’re headed. For now I’m staying in Bremerton.”

“Really? Even if he’s in Timbuktu?”

“That’s the current plan. I’ll help the studio during the changeover. Who’d have ever thought I’d be talking about staying in Bremerton and teaching dancing? The worst thing is that I have no idea where Steve’s working or if he found a job. Last time we spoke he mentioned Billings, so I guess he’s planning to settle there.”