Carousel Nights. Amie Denman

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      “I refuse to be the grown-up here, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Jack said. “Just because I’m the tallest and smartest of the three of us.”

      Evie breathed loudly through her nose and stared down her older siblings. When had she gotten so opinionated? Evie had always been the nice, sweet one. Hadn’t she? June had been away for seven years, and in that time Evie had gone from fifteen to twenty-two. Practically a lifetime.

      “Fifteen hundred bucks so far and all I’ve gotten out of him is an argument,” Evie said.

      “You argue with people?” June asked.

      “I’m doing it right now.”

      “That’s different,” June said. “We’re related. And what the heck is wrong with doing something new around here? You opened the Sea Devil last year. A multimillion-dollar roller coaster is a pretty big deal compared to what I’m suggesting.”

      Although it was by choice, June felt like a third wheel when she had meetings with Jack and Evie about Starlight Point and its future. The small profits last year had been split three ways. This year’s profit would be split as well, even though it’d certainly still be modest as they worked to convince the bankers to extend the loan.

      June wanted to earn her share, small though it was. And theater was the best way she knew how to do that. Better shows could mean more ticket sales. They might bring local pass holders across the Point Bridge a few more times each summer to see the shows, and locals spend money on popcorn, elephant ears and soda.

      “The Sea Devil was Dad’s idea,” Jack said. “He started it, he just didn’t get to finish it.”

      “Are you saying you wouldn’t add new rides in the future?” June asked.

      Jack exhaled slowly, staring out the second-floor window at the front section of the midway. “I’m saying I wouldn’t go that big, especially if it practically bankrupted us. Not anytime soon.”

      “Our plan for this year is good,” Evie said. “Small improvements that guests will notice. New paint, a few new facades on buildings—”

      “Like both theaters,” June said.

      Evie went on as if her sister weren’t even there. “Restroom upgrades, new safety belts in the children’s rides, new signs on the Point Bridge. But we’re not breaking the bank.”

      “Unless the bank breaks us,” June said.

      Jack waved at someone outside and then turned back to his sisters. “If we made it through last year, we’ll make it through this year. The bankers liked what they saw last summer even though we had very little time to do anything. We have a solid plan. And one of our owners is now a CPA with more money sense than the other two of us put together.”

      “Hope it helps,” Evie said.

      “Credibility,” Jack said, “helps make up for the fact another one of the owners is a Broadway dancer who never sticks around.”

      June narrowed her eyes and threw a pencil at him. The elevator outside Jack’s office dinged.

      “Mom,” Jack whispered. “And she’s got Betty with her. I just saw them outside.”

      Virginia Hamilton zipped into the room. She pulled a red wagon behind her and parked it by Jack’s desk. The brown, black and white dog snoozing on a blanket in the wagon opened one eye, yawned and went back to sleep.

      Evie rolled over in Jack’s chair and stroked the dog’s ears. “Betty smells good today,” she said, smiling at her mother.

      “Just picked her up from the groomer. She rolled in something dead on the beach yesterday,” Virginia said. “How’s it going here in the war room with one week before the big opening?”

      Jack groaned loudly. Evie rolled back to the desk. And June looked out the window, thinking about big openings she’d been part of before. Opening day at the park every year through her eighteenth birthday. Opening night of four major Broadway productions. She was getting to be a pro at pulling a show together.

      The elevator dinged in the silence and Mel ambled in.

      He stopped. His eyes met June’s and held for a heartbeat until he shifted to the oldest member of the family.

      “Sorry,” he said. “Don’t mean to interrupt. I just came by to see if Jack wanted to get some lunch. I need a break from trying to figure out how water got into the circuit boards of the Silver Streak over the winter.”

      June hadn’t seen Mel since he’d turned on her lights at the Starlight Saloon. She’d heard through Jack that Mel was rewiring the entire theater before he’d allow even one extension cord to be plugged in, so she’d avoided the Saloon for a week, focusing on costume and prop designs instead.

      “Gus is bringing lunch,” Jack said. “She’s coming over anyway to get her three bakeries ready to open.”

      “I hear she’s working up some new creations for this summer, themed pies and turnovers,” Mel said, wiping a fake tear and using a tragic voice, “I love your wife.”

      Jack punched Mel’s shoulder. “There’s probably enough lunch for you, but no way am I sharing dessert.”

      “I can live with those rules,” Mel said. He dropped to one knee and made kissing sounds to Betty, who hopped out of the wagon, threw herself at him with embarrassing abandon and rolled over for a belly rub.

      Virginia cleared her throat. “While we wait, I thought we could talk about my STRIPE program this year.”

      June turned back to the window, staring outside. Every year, Virginia muscled someone into running the Summer Training and Improvement Plan for Employees. Every employee had to participate and learn a specific skill such as conversational French, water rescue, ballroom dancing, knitting. In the past, the program had been mandatory. Last summer, it had become voluntary. But it was still an onerous task for whoever Virginia chose to be the STRIPE sergeant.

      “Any ideas?” Virginia asked, enthusiastically. “What should the STRIPE topic be this year?”

      “I’m off the hook,” Gus said, coming through the door with a cardboard box filled with paper bags and drinks. “I taught hundreds of people to decorate a birthday cake last summer. I’m still recovering.”

      “And you were wonderful,” Virginia said. She cleared a space on Jack’s desk so her daughter-in-law could set the box down.

      Jack approached the food, eyeing the bags but avoiding direct eye contact with his mother. June smiled at his pathetic attempt. If he thought cowering would save him, he was in for a surprise.

      “How about kayaking, Jack?” Virginia asked. “The lake is one of our best assets, and you’re such a good rower. You’d be great.”

      “Sorry, Mom, too busy. And I don’t know where we’d get dozens of practice kayaks.”

      “Don’t we rent those on the hotel beach?” June asked. “I thought we had thirty or forty kayaks.”

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