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Chapter 37
Troy followed Alison and Mila through the door of the brick storefront at the far end of Main Street. When Alison had called this morning and said she wanted to show them something, she hadn’t been specific. Even though excitement made her voice tremble with tension like a high wire and he could tell she was just about to explode with the desire to spill everything, all she would say was that it was a surprise.
Now, she stood in the middle of the room, stretched out her arms, and spun around in a slow circle. To Troy, she looked like a little kid spinning around in pure delight at the first snow of the season, face turned up to the sun in hopes of catching a snowflake or two on their tongue.
When she’d completed the three-sixty degrees, she looked at him with thrilled expectancy shining from her eyes and clasped her hands together under her chin. “Well? What do you think?”
Troy didn’t know what to say. She was so amped up she was actually bouncing up and down a little on the balls of her feet as she talked. He didn’t want to crush her spirit, but…
“It looks great, Alison. I’m just…I’m not sure what exactly ‘it’ is.”
She slapped her head to her forehead. “Oh, yeah! Of course! I’m getting way ahead of myself.”
She took a deep breath and then looked between him and Mila. “This all started the night of Mila’s performance. I guess you could say Mila inspired me.”
Mila stood a little taller, and Troy could only imagine what it probably meant to her to hear her idol say those words about her.
“Working with a young person, presenting them with a challenge and watching them rise so beautifully to the occasion, caused me to come to a realization.
“All of the people in my industry that were so angry with me for being ‘soft’ on the contestants at Broadway Baby. There’s an important difference between them and me.”
“Yeah, they’re jerks and you’re incredible,” Troy interjected, getting angry at even the thought of some asshole giving her a hard time for being too nice, of all things.
She smiled indulgently. “Thanks, Troy. You’ve always got my back. But, no, that’s not it. It’s that I have this innate need within myself to nurture young talent, to water the seed, give it light, and watch it grow. They don’t have that. It’s a whole different philosophy. They think that if someone’s talent is strong enough, and they themselves are tough enough, then they’ll make it in the business. If it’s not, or they’re not, then they don’t deserve to make it.”
“Like the survival of the fittest! We learned about that in science,” Mila put in.
“Exactly! Like a sort of performing arts Darwinism. And I realized the other day—I simply don’t believe that way. I think of talent more like a bell curve. There’s a certain percentage of people that have so little talent that no amount of training is going to help them. Then, at the top of the curve, there are people who have such powerful natural gifts that no matter what their training, they are destined to succeed.
“But there’s a huge majority in the middle who would fail without the proper support, but who—with the right instruction and coaching—could be absolutely brilliant!”
“Wow, it sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought,” Troy said.
“I have. Especially since Mila’s recital. And I’ve made a decision.” She extended her arms wide, as if to encompass the entire room in one sweeping gesture.
Troy looked around the big, empty space and tried to put it all together. Finally, he shook his head. “Okay, I guess I give up. What does that mean?”
Alison practically shivered with excitement as she said, “I’m opening up a school for the performing arts. I’m calling it Triple Threat, and there will be classes in singing, acting, and dancing. I’ve already leased the space.”
Troy was speechless. The ramifications of her announcement bounced off of each other in his mind, making it difficult to settle on just one aspect of the development to focus on. But the one thought that loomed larger than any of the others in his mind, the one he kept coming back to again and again, was: This means she’ll be sticking around. This makes it official.
Mila chimed in then, with her usual dry delivery, “Here’s the thing… Don’t make the mistake of assuming all the kids in Valentine Bay are as talented as I am. You’ll be in for a big disappointment.”
Alison laughed and squeezed Mila’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve already thought of that. The plan is to hold the beginner and intermediate classes, the ones which would more likely appeal to locals during the week in the afternoons. Then, on weekends, there will be two-day seminars to attract people from out of town. I see the school becoming a destination for elite master workshops eventually.”
Troy finally found his voice. “That sounds like an incredible venture. I assume you’re going to need some help fixing the place up?”
She smiled engagingly. “If only I knew someone with contracting skills that I could run my ideas by. That would be so great. It would probably involve some late-night strategy sessions in front of the fire with a glass of wine.”
He grinned back. “I’ll let you know if I think of anyone.”
Mila poked him in the ribs. “Maybe one of your buddies from work could do it.”
Troy punched her lightly in the shoulder. “Watch it, kid. You’re on thin ice.”
They both laughed at the teasing, and Troy felt just about completely happy in that moment. He had concrete proof Alison was going to be staying around. He had more and more moments with Mila lately where she was her old self, the funny and sweet girl that he loved spending time with, and not the sulky, sensitive teenager-Mila that he’d been dreading spending the next five years around.
Life was pretty damn good, and looking better all the time.
