Читать книгу Sugar Plums for Dry Creek - Janet Tronstad - Страница 11

Lizette shifted the sign with her left hand and took a deep breath. It had taken her the better part of three days to get the practice bar in place along the left side of the room and the floor waxed to a smooth shine. She still had the costumes hanging on a rack near the door waiting to be sorted by size, but she’d decided this morning it was time to put the sign she’d made in her window and start advertising for students.

She could still smell the floor wax, so she’d opened the door to air out the room even though it was cold outside. At least it wasn’t snowing today.

Lizette had bought a large piece of metal at the hardware store yesterday and some paint so she could make her sign. The old men sitting around the stove in the store had obviously heard she was setting up a business, because they were full of suggestions on how she should make her sign.

Of course, most of the words centered on the Baker part of the school’s name, but she couldn’t fault them for that. She was heartened to see they had so much enthusiasm for a ballet school. If this was any indication of the interest of the rest of the people in the community, she just might get enough students to pull off a modified Nutcracker ballet for Christmas after all. She’d even assured the men in the hardware store that no one was too old to learn some ballet steps. In fact, she’d told them that lots of athletes used ballet as a way to exercise.

The old men had looked a little dismayed at her comments, and she wasn’t surprised. At their age, they probably didn’t want to take up any exercise program, especially not one as rigorous as ballet. “You’d want to check with your doctor first, of course,” Lizette added. “You should do that before you take up any new exercise program.”

The men nodded as she left the hardware store. All in all, they’d been friendly, and she wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t get a student or two out of the bunch. And if she didn’t get any students, at least she’d gotten some good neighbors. One of them had already been over to check on the smoke coming out of the small kitchen off the main room when she’d been baking some cookies earlier and had forgotten they were in the oven. He’d even offered to bring her over some more flour if she was inclined to continue baking. He’d expressed some hope of a cherry pie.

The chair Lizette stood on gave her enough height so she could lift the sign and hook it into the chain she’d put up to hang it with. The sign had a white background with navy script lettering.

Lizette planned to take a picture of the sign later and send it to Madame Aprele. She wasn’t sure she’d tell her old teacher that she didn’t have any students yet, but she could tell her that the school was almost ready for classes now that the practice bar was in place. Lizette had planned to use a makeshift practice bar at first, because she couldn’t afford a real one. Madame Aprele had surprised her by sending her one of her own mahogany bars. Her old teacher had shipped it before Lizette left Seattle, and Linda, next door in the café, had kept it for Lizette until she arrived.

Lizette had called Madame Aprele, thanking her and insisting that she accept payment for the equipment. It would help enough, Lizette explained, if she could just pay for the bar over time. She didn’t add that she had no need of charity. Madame Aprele agreed to let Lizette make payments if Lizette promised to call her with weekly updates on her school.

At first Lizette was uncomfortable promising to call Madame Aprele, because she knew her mother would disapprove. But then Lizette decided that whatever problem there had been between her mother and Madame Aprele, there was no need for her to continue the coldness.

Twenty years ago when Madame Aprele had bought the school from Lizette’s mother, the two women had been friends. But, over the years, Jacqueline spoke less and less to Madame Aprele until, finally, her mother wouldn’t even greet the other women when she picked Lizette up after ballet class.

At the time, Lizette didn’t understand why. Now she wondered if her mother didn’t look at Madame Aprele and wish her own life had turned out like the other woman’s.

Not that there was anything in Jacqueline’s life to suggest she wished for a different one. Madame Aprele had been born in France in the same village as Lizette’s mother. Both women had studied ballet together and had left France together. Lizette’s mother had become more Americanized over the years, however, especially after she’d started working in the bakery.

As Lizette’s mother became more conservative in her dress, Madame Aprele became more outrageous, until, in the end, Lizette’s mother looked almost dowdy and Madame Aprele looked like an old-fashioned movie star with her lavender feather boas and dramatic eye makeup.

Lizette stepped down from the chair just as she saw two little children cross the street from the hardware store. The sun was shining on the window so Lizette could not see the children clearly, but she could tell from their size that they were both good prospects for ballet.

Lizette didn’t know how to advertise in a small town like Dry Creek, but she supposed she could ask about the children at the hardware store, find out who their parents were and send them a flyer.

When the children passed her door, they stopped. The little girl was staring at something, and it didn’t take long for Lizette to figure out what it was. The sunlight was streaming in, making the Sugar Plum Fairy costume sparkle even more than usual. Lizette’s mother had used both gold and metallic pink on the costume when she’d made it, and many a young girl mistook it for a princess costume.

“If you go ask your mother if it’s okay, you can come in and look at the costumes,” Lizette said. She doubted things were so casual in Dry Creek that parents wanted their children going into strange stores without their knowledge.

The girl whispered something in the boy’s ear. He nodded.

Lizette had walked closer to the children and was starting to feel uneasy. If you added a few pounds and took away the scared look in their eyes, those two kids looked very similar to that snapshot she’d seen several days ago. She looked up and down the snow-covered street. There were the usual cars and pickups parked beside the hardware store and the café, but there were no people outside except for the two children. “Does your mother know where you are?”

Both children solemnly nodded their heads yes.

Lizette was relieved to know the children had a mother. Their father hadn’t looked like much of a parent, but hopefully their mother was better.

“Our mother won’t mind if we look at the dress,” the boy politely said after a moment and pointed inside. “That one.”

The rack was very close to the door and Lizette decided she could leave the door open so the children’s mother could see them if she looked down the street. Really, if she moved the rack closer, the children could touch the costumes while they stood outside on the sidewalk.

Lizette pushed the costume rack so it was just inside the door. “The pink one is my favorite, too.”

Lizette watched as the little girl reached out her hand and gently touched the costume.

“That’s the dress for the Sugar Plum Fairy in the Nutcracker ballet,” Lizette said.

“What’s a ballet?” the boy asked.

Lizette thought a moment. “It’s like a play with lots of costumes and people moving.”

“So someone wears that dress in a play?” the boy asked.

The boy and Lizette were both seeing the same thing. The little girl’s face was starting to glow. One moment she had been pale and quiet, and the next her face started to show traces of pink and her eyes started to sparkle.

For the first time, Lizette decided she had made the right decision to come to Dry Creek to open her school. If there were more little girls and boys like this in the community, she’d have a wonderful time teaching them to love ballet.