“All our lives, our parents pointed to you, Tuesday Knight, as an example of how to love, how to be generous. We know we weren’t the first family to ask for your help or the last. We came all this way to tell you our family never forgot you.”
“You have to skate. Come through the back door next session.”
“We accept, if you accept this from our parents.” Mikey pressed an envelope into Tuesday’s hand. “Dad invented an electrical component used in radar during the war. He went on to work for GE and NASA, then started his own business. He’s retired now, but”—he squeezed her hand—“he wanted you to have this. He thought it might help save the Starlight.”
“There’s no saving the Starlight. I can’t accept.” She could not take the man’s money. “The city has made the decision. You see the demolition signs.” She held out the envelope, but no one reached for it. “The wrecking crew comes next week, so it won’t be used for what your father intended.”
“Doesn’t matter, Tuesday. It’s a gift from our parents. They never, ever forgot you, Sea Blue Beach, the Starlight, or that image of Immanuel.” Sissy pointed to the mural. “So please, keep the money, use it for yourself and your family.”
“Dad will disown us if we come back with that check,” Mikey said.
Tuesday brushed away tears. “I don’t know what to say—”
The Brandley kids left for the Blue Plate to grab a bite before the evening skate.
“Who were you talking to, Ma?” Dupree grabbed his soda again.
“Children of a family I helped during the Depression.” She handed the envelope to her son. “Their parents sent this to help save the Starlight. I tried to give it back, but they insist it was a gift. I’m so overwhelmed with all the folks coming home only to say good-bye. So much joy in the sadness.”
Dupree tore the back flap and read the check. His expression told her nothing. “It’s for twenty grand, Ma.”
“Let me see.” Sure enough, handwritten by Norvel Brandley. Two zero, zero, zero, zero. “I can’t take this. How preposterous.”
“You can if it’s a gift.”
“Dup, I gave them a bed and bath for a week, a couple of meals, nothing much fancier than bean soup. That doesn’t merit twenty thousand dollars.”
“What is it you say? ‘Who knew so much could come from so little’? It’s the story of the Starlight, Ma.” He pressed the check into her hand. “All the years you stuck with it, hung in there, fought for the rink, survived storms and economic crashes. You warded off Pa and his gambling goons. You stood up for what was right. So much came from your small efforts.”
“All right, get out onto the floor. You’re making me cry.” She yanked open the center drawer for a tissue, finding nothing but her old shears—the ones she used to cut up linens for Doc to bandage Leroy.
Dupree had one thing wrong. All of this wasn’t because of her. Not even the Starlight. This was the handiwork of Immanuel of the Starlight.
He was sending her out in style.
35
MATT
He spent the last week of August in LA. Roger wanted to reshoot a couple of scenes, and while he was there, his beach house sold. He felt like a weight had been cut away.
Then he flew home Labor Day weekend for the Last Night at the Starlight. He took a Saturday night redeye to New Orleans, arriving as the Sunday sunrise broke through scattered clouds. A puddle jumper landed him in Fort Walton, where he whistled down a cab, arriving at the Starlight just in time for the noon session. He planned to skate until the final song.
Entering the rink, he waved to Dad and Granny, then greeted Harlow, who manned the ticket booth, with an all-consuming kiss. He didn’t care about the gawking skaters waiting in line or the clicks of the instant cameras.
Let the world know! Matt Knight found his better half.
“Hey, babe,” he whispered in her ear. With her hair in a ponytail and just a touch of makeup, her high cheeks seemed morepronounced than a week ago, and the blue sundress that matched her eyes hung loose.
“Matt Knight, let us in, man!” Fan alert.Smile.Be cool.He glanced toward the door. Ricky Lanter and Jonas Tucker! His old high school football buddies. They greeted one another with a “long time no see” and the requisite handshake-hug combo. Matt’s bittersweet memories of Booker surfaced.
He’d almost called him twice, but between the reshoot and packing up the house, giving away some of the so-called treasures he no longer needed, he didn’t have the emotional energy.
“Can you believe no more Starlight?” Jonas said. “Ol’ Sea Blue won’t be the same ever. How’s Granny taking it?”
“She’s holding out for a miracle, but—hey, let me introduce you to Harlow Hayes. H, two of my friends from Nickle High.”
Ricky and Jonas went all starry-eyed and lost their bravado, shyly shaking Harlow’s hand. Jonas managed to get a hold of himself and make a joke. “Y-you sure you want to hang around this scallywag?”
