It's Tutu Much Read online

  It’s Tutu Much

  (Life On Victoria Square)

  By Lorraine Bartlett

  Bullies come in all shapes, sizes, and ages. Dana Milton finally opens her own dance studio and one of her Broadway Babies (age 8) is a classic tyrant. Can she teach her students about respect for one another—and when it’s time to stand up for oneself, or is it all tutu much?

  Copyright © 2018 by Lorraine Bartlett. All Rights Reserved

  No part of this work may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval) without permission in writing from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you for my proofreaders. Amanda Beachum, Amy Connolley, Linda Kuzminczuk, and Pam Priest.

  Thanks to my author friends Mary Kennedy for the brainstorming session and Shirley Hailstock for dance studio lore.

  Thanks to Peg Halley for her suggestion for Tutu Much.

  Chapter 1

  Dana Milton wanted to be a dancer since age three. That was when she’d seen a televised production of the Nutcracker Suite. She wasn’t afraid of the menacing rats, but she’d been absolutely charmed by Clara. Not just her dancing ability, but the way she faced danger. She was fearless, and that’s what Dana aspired to be. Lessons weren’t far behind.

  And Dana had been fearless when she continued dancing through high school, when a number of her classmates thought it was anything but cool to tap and dance on her toes. Their idea of dancing was gyrating to pop music—and mocking anyone who dared to do different—and better.

  “They’re not the kind of people you want as friends,” her mother, Paula, told her time and again, and she’d been right.

  Dana had been fearless when she’d gone to New York to audition to be a Rockette. After her performance, the stage manager had yelled, “Sorry. Next!” But she had been thrilled to get a job in the chorus line of an off-Broadway show and worked days slicing meat and assembling sandwiches in a deli to keep a roof over her head. Ah, those were the days. She’d been one of four girls sharing a two-bedroom flat, living on melba toast and diet cola, and loving every minute of it. Until someone had elbowed past her, giving her a mighty shove down the subway stairs and she’d torn a ligament in her left knee. Physical therapy and surgery couldn’t put Dana back together again, at least to dance professionally, and it was back to McKinlay Mill and to her old bedroom back with her parents.

  And so she’d had to change her dreams.

  “If you can no longer be a professional dancer, maybe you can train someone else who can,” her mother had said.

  That was the last thing a depressed Dana had wanted to hear. And so she’d found a boring old clerical job in Rochester and lived for the weekends when she could take a couple of dance classes.

  And then she met someone at—of all things—a ballroom dance class. Thanks to the resurgence in popularity of televised ballroom dancing, Jack Milton, DDS, had gone on a dare from his hygienist—and found love. Dana was just as surprised.

  It was a beautiful fall wedding, and Dana was determined to do things right—in Bollywood style. The entire wedding party—parents included—thrilled those at the reception with a mind-blowing routine that Dana herself choreographed. The video went viral, and the next thing she knew, Dana had been invited to teach classes to other wedding parties. It wasn’t Broadway, but it was fun!

  With Jack’s blessing, Dana quit her boring office job and worked full-time at the Twinkle Toes Dance studio not far from their condo, teaching dance classes—that is until Isabella Anne Milton was born. Dana was thrilled to be a stay-at-home mom … for the first couple of years, but by the time Bella was three, she was itching to teach again. After all, Bella was the same age as Dana when she’d gotten the dancing bug.

  That’s when she started plotting. She filled a journal with ideas for her own studio, starting with a business plan. She casually mentioned the idea to Jack, but he never paid much attention, although he did seem to enjoy talking about how he had set up his dental practice. She had a lot of the same issues, like insurance, equipment, and exactly what she would teach. No way did she want to infringe on Linda Reynolds who ran Twinkle Toes. She needed to establish her own studio in a different suburb. And it was her mother who put the bug in her ear about where her dance studio should be located.

  “I know the perfect place for you—and it’s right here in McKinlay Mill.”

  Dana’s gaze had narrowed. “No way.”

  “Way! Right on Victoria Square.”

  Dana was familiar with the area. As a kid, she’d been dragged there by her mother and grandmother for Christmas shopping. As far as she was concerned, there was only one place worth visiting the little shopping area for: the candy store. Sweet Sue’s Confectionery had been there since she was a teenager and sold the best chocolates. But the rest of the Square seemed dated and uninteresting to her teenaged eyes.

  “It seems to me that all the shops are too small or badly configured for a dance studio.”

  “There’s an opening at Artisans Alley,” Paula said.

  Dana thought back and frowned. “You mean that old flea market?”

  “It’s not a flea market. There are some very nice—and high-end—crafts sold there.”

  Not that Dana recalled. “It’s a dump.”

  “I’ll admit, it’s not as attractive as it might be, but the new owner has already put her stamp on the place.”

  “Like how?”

  “Tidying up outside, for one. They had a very nice Christmas festival, and they’re always putting on some kind of sale or another. In fact, since she took over, the whole Square seems to have spruced up.”

  “How did you know about a place for lease?”

  “I read the paper, silly. Cunningham Realty not only sells properties, they also handle commercial rentals.”

  “There can’t be many in McKinlay Mill,” Dana muttered.

  “Being an old married lady, you haven’t been down by the waterfront. There’s loads of new development.”

  The only worthwhile place Dana could remember at the waterfront was Pelican’s Nest, a bar and restaurant. She’d been there a few times for drinks with friends, but it wasn’t really her style. The fact that it was the only bar in town—except for the bowling alley—made it the place to go.

  “You definitely need to get out more,” her mother advised.

  “I’ve got a child,” Dana reminded her mother. “And where am I going to come up with the money to rent a space for a dancing school.”

  “You are married to a dentist.”

  That was true. But they’d been saving their pennies—okay, dollars—for a fantastic new house in a much bigger development on the other side of town. That’s what Jack wanted. A place to entertain his friends and colleagues. Dana wasn’t quite so thrilled with the idea. And the more she thought about it, she wasn’t sure she wanted Bella to grow up in the most affluent suburb near Rochester. If she was honest with herself, she wanted to move back to McKinlay Mill. To be closer to her parents and other family.

  She wanted to go home.

  It was a raw spring day when she took Bella to have lunch with her mother.

  “Let’s have lunch at Tanner’s on Victoria Square. They’re a great little bakery that also serves sandwiches. You could gain a pound or two by just inhaling.”

  “I don’t need to gain a pound or two,” Dana said.

  “You look fabulous. You’ve still got a dancer’
s physique. And while we’re there, we’ll just pop into Artisans Alley and have a look at their rental space.”

  Dana shrugged. She guessed she could do that.

  And so it was on a Tuesday morning around eleven that she, her mother, and Bella visited what her mother called “The Alley.” Now that sounded like a nickname for McKinlay Lanes if ever she’d heard one.

  After stopping at the first cash desk, the older lady walked over to a wall phone and used it as a public address system. “Katie, there’s someone here to look at the rental space.” She turned back to Dana and her mom. “I’m sure she’ll be right out. She’s hot to rent the space.”

  Dana looked around the cavernous room. It looked a lot different than she remembered. Instead of drab brown booths sectioned off by brown Masonite pegboard walls, each booth was uniquely decorated with paint and even wallpaper, with the merchandise attractively displayed.

  “Wow,” Dana muttered as Bella struggled in her arms, eager to get down and explore.

  Sure enough, a woman only a few years older than Dana appeared. She’d been expecting someone matronly with orthopedic shoes, but instead the woman was dressed in jeans and a yellow Artisans Alley T-shirt. “Hey, Paula. You came back,” she said, as though surprised and pleased.

  “Hi, Katie. Dana, this is Katie Bonner. She owns and manages the Alley.”

  They shook hands.

  “So, you’re the dance instructor. Your mother has told me all about you—and in glowing terms.”

  “She lies a lot,” Dana said, smiling.

  “I’m sure my nose would grow just like Pinocchio’s if I ever told a fib,” Paula said.

  Katie laughed. “Would you like to see the space for yourself?”

  Dana nodded and Katie led them out of Artisans Alley, past the lobby and up a side hall. Dana had never even noticed the aisle, where a consignment clothing store was located. Behind that, was a darkened room with nearly floor-to-ceiling windows with yellowed newspapers tacked up on them.

  “I’m not sure what business was located here in the past—that was before my time,” Katie said, digging in her pocket.

  “How long have you managed the place?” Dana asked.

  “About six months.” She took out a set of keys and sorted through them.

  “The whole place sure looks different. Nicer.”

  Katie smiled. “Thanks. That’s what I’ve been aiming for.” She unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping a light switch.

  First impression? Too small. Not enough light. Shabby. But there was a wood floor—or was it laminate?

  Bella pulled her hand from Dana’s and began to run around the room.

  “Is that real wood?”

  “As real as it gets: Beach. I googled it and found they’re popular for dance studio floors. It may well be that this space was once a dance studio. I looked above the suspended ceiling, and can see where there were previously walls. That could have been where dressing rooms were located.”

  “It’s kind of dark in here,” Dana muttered.

  “I would suggest taking out the suspended ceiling and putting in new light fixtures.”

  Dana walked around the space, trying to get the feel for it.

  “Mirrored panels could be placed on the north wall, and a barre installed,” Katie continued.

  “Would I have to do the work myself?”

  “That’s something we could negotiate.”

  Dana headed for the back of the space and found a small washroom. It would have to be unisex. Not optimum. “How big is the space?”

  “Thirty by thirty feet; nine hundred square feet.”

  “I think it’s fabulous,” Paula said, her eyes wide with anticipation.

  Dana had seen studio space this small in Manhattan where real estate is at premium. She’d have to limit the number of students in each class, but then, how many pupils was she liable to have for each age group?

  Bella had finally run out of steam and trudged back to grab Dana’s hand. “I’m hungry, mama.”

  “We’re having lunch at Tanner’s,” Paula volunteered.

  “How would people find the space?” Dana asked, ignoring her child and mother.

  “We’ll add your business name to the big sign on the east side of the building, and we can put up a sandwich sign when the studio is open. As a tenant, we can place your stuffers in the bags at Artisans Alley free of charge several times a year. You can join the Square’s Merchants Association, which gives you a say in the advertising we do for the Square as a whole, or get a discount rate at local radio stations and print ads.”

  “Mama,” Bella wailed, yanking on her arm. “I wanna cookie.”

  “Has there been any serious interest in the space?”

  “No, but you never know.”

  Dana nodded. “It’s a lot to think about.”

  “Mama,” Bella whined.

  “I’m going to have to get back to you.”

  “Sure.” Katie held out her hand, indicating the exit. They left the room and she turned off the lights, locking the door behind them. From another pocket, Katie pulled out a business card. “Give me a call if you decide you’d like to rent it.”

  Dana nodded. “Thanks for showing us the space.”

  Katie nodded and headed back to Artisans Alley.

  “I think it’s perfect. Absolutely perfect,” Paula said.

  Far from it, but it was a possibility.

  “I think I’d like to look at all the commercial space in the area before I make any decisions.”

  “Why don’t you call Fred Cunningham and talk to him. You could call him from the sandwich shop. He knows everything that’s available.”

  “There’s a much bigger problem than just finding studio space.”

  “And that is?”

  “Convincing Jack that the whole idea makes sense and isn’t just a pipe dream. And more importantly, that I’d like to move here. But only if it made sense.”

  Paula didn’t seem to hear the last sentence. “You would?” she asked, sounding thrilled.

  “Yeah. I think it would be a great place to bring up a daughter.”

  Paula smiled. “That’s what I thought, too. That’s why I did it.”

  Mother and daughter smiled at one another.

  “And it just so happens, I know the perfect house for you and Jack.”

  “If it isn’t a new build, you can forget about it.”

  “It’s not a new build, but you may not have that hard a time talking him into it?”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  Paula nodded, looking smug.

  Chapter 2

  And so began the great persuasion campaign.

  On the way home, Dana stopped at the grocery store and bought a roasted chicken, russet potatoes, fresh green beans, and the fixings for a great salad. Roast chicken was Jack’s favorite meal, outside of Thanksgiving, and could be the perfect way to butter him up. She also stopped at the liquor store for what Jack liked to call “an amusing little pinot noir.” Dana even set the table so it looked pretty, with tablecloth, linen napkins, and candles. Step one completed.

  “I went and visited Mom today,” Dana said, and sat down on the couch beside her husband, setting two glasses of wine on the coffee table before them.

  “That’s nice,” Jack said, his attention focused on scrolling through the messages on his iPhone.

  “We went out to lunch and drove past the nicest two-story home right on Main Street. It’s got a huge backyard and even a treehouse for Bella—when she gets a little older, that is.”

  “Yeah,” he muttered, not looking up from the screen on his phone, “but it’s in McKinlay Mill.”

  “And your practice is in Greece—that’s practically right next door.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “There’s an open house on Sunday. I’m going.”

  “We’re moving to Pittsford.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “That’s what we agreed on,” he said with authority.
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  “That’s what you agreed. Can you image the hair-raising ride you’d have to work every time it snowed.”

  “No.”

  “Well, I can. I’d be worried sick about you. You’d have to call me when you got there, and then call before you left at night.”

  “Do you want me to be tagged with a GPS system, too?” he asked, sarcasm filling his voice.

  “Now you’re being difficult.”

  “No, you are.”

  “How am I being difficult?”

  He set his phone down and picked up one of the glasses. “Because suddenly you want to disrupt all our plans.”

  “Your plans.”

  “You were there when we made them.”

  “But I wasn’t exactly enthusiastic.”

  He faced her. “No. I guess you weren’t.” He scrutinized her face. “What’s this all about?”

  “I didn’t tell you the best thing about the house.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “At one time, there was a dental office in it.”

  That piqued his interest.

  “How long ago?”

  “What does it matter? You’d be bringing all your equipment with you. Your lease runs out next year and if you moved the practice to Pittsford, it might be a big turnoff for your patients on the opposite side of town.”

  “You just want to live closer to your mom and dad.”

  “And what’s wrong with that? Your parents live in Greece. Moving Bella halfway across the county isn’t going to sit well with them, either.”

  “That’s true,” he admitted. In fact, he hadn’t yet told them about their plans for just that reason.

  Jack pocketed his phone and Dana snuggled close. “Living in a small town can be a wonderful thing. Mom was telling me about the great new restaurants and things that are planned for the waterfront. They’ve already added a few bars. Maybe one day we could get a boat. And they’ve got a great school system,” she added almost as an afterthought. “We could get a dog.”

  His ears perked up. Condo living did have its drawbacks—and pets weren’t allowed in their current living situation.