stopped under the pink awning with an ice-cream cone painted on it. “Do you have mint chocolate chip?”
“Single or double?”
Evie glanced at the clock on the stand’s wall and did the math. “If I have a double, it’ll count for lunch, too. Saves me time in the long run.”
Tosha laughed and shook the water drops off a silver ice-cream scooper. “You always were a practical girl, even when you were a kid. I remember you coming in here with dollar bills clutched in your little hands and figuring out the best deal for the money.”
Evie laughed. “I think you always gave me more than I deserved.”
“No,” Tosha said. “You deserved every ounce.”
Evie slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out a five-dollar bill.
“No way,” Tosha said, handing a two-scoop cone across the counter. “This one’s for luck.”
“Do I need luck?”
“With all the big plans you have this summer, you need luck, time, good weather and ice cream. Not necessarily in that order.”
Evie took a bite of the ice cream and lingered under the awning for a moment. Her eyes fell on a shiny red fire extinguisher mounted on the wall next to the side door of the stand, a giant reflective sticker pointing to it. And there was another reflective sticker on the door that said Exit.
Those signs are serious overkill.
Tosha noticed Evie’s glance. “Like my new safety equipment?”
Evie nodded, reserving comment as she waited for what she knew Tosha would say next.
“I had a visit from the new fire inspector who’s trying to fill out his new boots by puffing himself up. I’m not the only one, either.”
“Didn’t you already have a fire extinguisher?” Evie asked.
Tosha shrugged. “Had a bucket of water. Worked for years.”
“Well,” Evie said. She hesitated, wondering if she should tell Tosha that Scott Bennett was the bane of her existence, too. Maybe not. It probably wouldn’t help, anyway. “I hope you never have to use the bucket of water or the fire extinguisher. Thanks for the ice cream.”
Tosha waved her away and Evie took a walk along the midway. When she was younger, she would walk hand-in-hand with her father and they would play Visitor. He would take off his name tag and they’d pretend it was their first visit to Starlight Point. As a child, Evie thought it was a fun game devised for her entertainment, but she had taken up the habit this summer and realized her father had a brilliant ulterior motive.
As she walked past the theater, she looked at it as if she had never seen it before. Fresh eyes. What if she didn’t own the place? What would she notice? The heavy old marquee hanging over the theater entrance had been transformed during the winter. There were still flashing lights, but it was a computer screen that could be changed quickly to advertise shows, park events and times. No more black letters slid onto a white track.
Was it an improvement? Evie gazed at it. Yes. Her sister, June, would certainly think so. Coming home last summer and revitalizing both the theater buildings and their live shows had been June’s achievement. And she hadn’t slowed down. This year’s shows in the Midway Theater and the Starlight Saloon in the Wonderful West would open in a few days. And they would be even more spectacular than last year’s Broadway-themed performances. The new scrolling sign advertised a “Salute to Summer Extravaganza” with a promise of music and dance to celebrate the season.
June saw the fruits of her labor every day. Her music, choreography, costume choices and overall vision had made live shows more than an afterthought or just an extra offering at the point. Exit surveys from the previous year suggested there were guests who returned just to see the shows. June’s effort and sacrifice had paid off. She had given up her career on Broadway to come home and be part of the family business, and she didn’t appear to regret it for an instant.
What am I giving up if I devote my life to Starlight Point?
The carousel lurched into action with a burst of organ music, and Evie watched the horses blur past, going up and down on the same track they’d been on for decades. She glanced at the concrete beneath her feet. The same path she’d walked with her father for years.
There was no place else she wanted to be, but her path now was not the one she’d imagined as a girl.
* * *
SCOTT HANDED HIS SISTER Caroline a fifty-dollar bill. “That’s for food. If you insist on being a security guard, you should bulk up a little.”
Caroline laughed. Her slight build looked even slimmer in the all black uniform of the Starlight Point Police Department. Only twenty, she wasn’t licensed to carry a gun. Yet. But she could still do foot patrol. Direct traffic. Keep an eye on the summer crowds.
“You’re an excellent big brother,” she said, snapping the crisp bill from his fingers before he could play keep-away. She slipped it into her pocket, picked up a plastic tray and cut in front of him in the cafeteria line. “I’ll report to Mom that I’m keeping an eye on you and you’re behaving very well.”
Scott raised an eyebrow.
“You’re still buying lunch today, right?” Caroline asked.
He nodded as he shoved a tray along the line at the employee cafeteria. “This is probably the only day this month we’ll have the same schedule, so I can afford your grilled cheese and salad.”
Scott took a cheeseburger and fries from under the warming lights, added a pudding parfait from the cooler and filled a paper cup from the soda machine. He paid for his sister’s tray and his and followed her to a table by the window.
The employee cafeteria was industrial in furnishings, but the view from the wall of windows added a shot of beauty. Situated between the employee entrance along the beach and the backside of the Lake Breeze Hotel, the staff cafeteria and recreation center offered glimpses of Lake Huron through the trees. The cafeteria served inexpensive food for the minimum-wage summer workers who lived at the Point and counted on three meals a day.
“Are you still insisting on living in the employee dorm or have you decided to do the smart thing?” Scott asked. He took the radio off his belt and set it next to the tray.
“Living with my overprotective big brother in a bachelor pad in downtown Bayside is the smart thing?” Caroline took her radio off her belt and set it next to his, mimicking his action and smiling at him.
“Safer thing. I almost had to close the dorm a few days ago because of fire code violations.”
“Of course you did,” she said, smiling at him. “I was working at the time, but some of my friends reported a very grouchy fire inspector writing up violations and confiscating their extension cords.”
Scott took a deep breath and reserved comment.
“If I lived with you, I’d have to find a way to work every day,” Caroline said.
Scott chewed his burger
