Carousel Nights Read Online Free PDF Page B

planted in a pattern that would look best from the Skyway cars above. She wondered how many years they’d been coming to Starlight Point. Maybe they’d met here when they were teenagers and had already raised a family, coming to the Point every summer and making albums of memories. Her vision blurred and her eyes stung a little. She shook it off. For all she knew, it was their first date and they’d met on a seniors gambling bus tour.
    â€œA parade would be perfect for the midafternoon doldrums,” June said. “You know. Three o’clock when the buzz wears off a little and the sunburn starts stinging. Kids get all cranky and parents are looking for a mood-changer. They could line up for a parade.”
    â€œI thought they were going to fill the seats in your theaters. Soak up the air-conditioning,” Jack said. “A parade is the opposite.”
    â€œNo, it isn’t,” June said. “It takes the show to the people. Live music, costumes, dancing. Maybe we could have a banner made up, advertising showtimes in the theaters.”
    Evie and Jack glanced at their sister and returned to counting the guests streaming past.
    â€œEveryone loves a parade,” June added.
    Evie shrugged.
    â€œMaybe next year,” Jack said. “If we’re lucky, you’ll forget all about it.”
    â€œI’m serious.”
    â€œThat’s what I’m afraid of.”
    â€œHow hard would it be to jazz up the high school band thing that’s been going on for years?” June asked.
    Every summer, high school bands from all over the state applied for a day at the Point. Band members got free admission in exchange for two performances. They played the national anthem at the front gates at park opening and marched through the park at some point in the day. Decent deal for the high school kids, probably hellish for the chaperones and a vague return in live entertainment for the Point.
    â€œWe standardize the time of their marching performance—say three o’clock every day—and add some other stuff,” June said.
    â€œOpening day fever has gotten to you,” Evie said. “It’s a lot of adrenaline to handle, and I forget your immunity is down. You probably think you can do a triathlon right now.”
    â€œOr at least name all fifty states and their capitals,” Jack said.
    â€œEverything seems possible on opening day,” Evie said. “It’s the family curse. It makes us commit to a lifetime of insanity, one hundred days at a time. And then spend the other two thirds of the year wondering what the heck we were thinking. It’s a Vegas-wedding way to spend your life.”
    â€œBut you love it,” June said.
    Evie smiled and waved to a little girl shoving an umbrella stroller with her doll in it. “Of course I do. I’d be crazy not to.”
    â€œAnd you love my idea of a parade.”
    â€œMaybe,” Evie said. “I’d have to see how it looks on paper.”
    â€œI’ll take a picture of it going down the midway and email it to you.”
    Evie cocked her head and blew out a long sigh. “You can’t just pull something like this out of your hat.”
    â€œSure I can. It won’t be that hard to put together a float, get some of my dancers to ride along and entertain, maybe a banner. I just need a theme and I’m good to go.”
    â€œBut—” Evie protested.
    â€œListen. I own this place,” June said, smirking. “I can pull this off if I want to.”
    â€œOne-third,” Evie said. “You’re not even a simple majority.”
    Jack ran a hand through his hair and loosened his tie. “If you want a controlling interest, you can have my share,” he said, heading straight for Aunt Augusta’s bakery on the midway, a beacon of sugary hope under a pink awning.
    â€œHow does he stay so skinny?” June asked.
    â€œHe’s in love,” Evie