It had been a long class. Herding dozens of tiny dancers while keeping the Christmas pageant choreography on track was no small feat, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything. Withthe holiday season in full swing, the studio had taken on a new kind of magic… and chaos.
Lily and Evie had volunteered to direct Northfield’s first Christmas pageant this year, and between rehearsals, choreography, and props, Lily’s schedule was packed. She didn’t mind. The kids were excited; the parents were helpful, and the extra work had kept her more than busy for the last month. Too busy to think about that weekend in a snowed-in cabin where?—
Nope. Ruthlessly, Lily dragged her thoughts back to the present. She’d done that every time her mind flashed back to that wild, incredible weekend. Her future was in the here and now.
Looking around her studio, a familiar sense of calm filled her. Strings of twinkle lights glowed against the tall windows, casting soft reflections on the polished hardwood floors. The entire far wall of the studio was lined with mirrors and a ballet barre, and the rest of the studio walls showed off students’ artwork. A row of yoga mats stacked neatly in one corner, next to wicker baskets filled with angel wings and the snowflake costumes the kids had stuffed haphazardly back in.
The studio had started as a dream she scribbled in her notebook years ago, and now it pulsed with the kind of energy that gave her life… especially this last month, undoubtedly one of the longest of her life.
She hung up woolly lamb costumes and carefully stored angel wings and reminded herself once again not to dwell. Her life as she had known it exploded, yes, but there was a sweetness in building her new one that she could appreciate.
And on days when it was hard to remember she was lucky she hadn’t married a cheat, well, she just spent more time in her studio, where she felt happiest. And her schedule certainly kept her busy. She taught beginner ballet, jazz, slow-flow yoga and everything in between. In her studio, she got to watch theshyest of kids find their rhythm and stressed-out moms melt into Savasana.
Here, she had always remembered who she was outside of being someone’s girlfriend or almost-wife. And while that wasn’t always fun, to do the work of rebuilding, it was necessary.
“Bye, kids! See you on Monday for rehearsal,” Lily called out to the last of the little ones leaving with their parents.
When she turned, Chloe was waiting quietly near the studio for her grandma. She was always the last to leave, always lingering just a little longer, and Lily never rushed her. Chloe was sweetly endearing, with dark curls framing her face and wide, expressive blue eyes.
She had joined Lily’s studio a few months ago, and while Lily tried not to have favorites, Chloe had quickly become hers.
“Did you have fun today, Chloe?” Lily asked softly.
Chloe nodded, her tiny hands clutching the tutu she still wore, and smiled just enough to reveal a gap where her front tooth had recently gone missing.
Lily’s heart melted. She reached out and gave the little girl a soft squeeze on the shoulder. “You were the most graceful snowflake tonight. Even Miss Evie said so, and she’s very picky about snowflake technique.”
That earned a bigger smile, still just a little curl of her mouth, but it felt like pure sunshine. Chloe hadn’t spoken a word since the night of the accident that took her mother’s life, but Lily understood her just fine. “Do you remember what comes next in the pageant?” she asked gently.
Chloe nodded again and shyly held up four fingers.
“Right,” Lily said. “Four more weeks of rehearsals until our big show. I can’t wait to see you up there with all the lights. You’re going to be so brave.”
Chloe glanced at the door where her grandmother had just appeared, then she turned back to Lily. Without a word, shestepped forward and wrapped her arms around Lily’s neck in a quick, fierce hug.
See? How could she not have a favorite?
The hug caught Lily off guard. She dropped to her knees and hugged Chloe back, her throat tightening. Chloe was quiet and careful and pure in a way that cracked something open in Lily’s chest. Brave without even knowing it. A little girl without a mom, and yet here she was, wrapped in sparkly tulle, giving away love like it cost her nothing. She rubbed her back, trying to pass some steady, healing energy between them, anything to make this easier for her.
Margaret Whitmore stepped inside the studio, the scent of winter clinging to her long wool coat. Her silver hair was swept neatly back, and she carried herself with the kind of effortless poise that came from decades of country club luncheons and charity board meetings.
Lily smiled, getting to her feet. “Hi, Mrs. Whitmore. She’s just finishing up. Do you remember where to put your costume, Chloe?”
The little girl nodded shyly and headed across the room toward the baskets.
Margaret’s eyes found Chloe and softened. Lily had the impression the Whitmores were trying very hard to get everything right—structure, routine, the best of everything that money could buy—but they still moved through this new chapter of their lives like people holding their breath.
They adored Chloe; that much was clear. But grief had a way of wrapping itself around love, stiffening it into something quieter and more cautious.
Margaret didn’t seem cold, just careful. Like if she let herself love too loudly, it might break her wide open again. Lily could understand that. She figured Margaret was handling her daughter’s death and the sudden responsibility of raising hergranddaughter the best way she knew how. It wasn’t easy for anyone.
“Did she talk today?” Margaret asked softly, keeping her eyes on her granddaughter. The hope laced in her voice almost made Lily wince.
“Not yet,” she admitted, keeping her voice light. “But she’s getting more expressive with her dancing, and she remembered the whole snowflake routine on her own.”
Margaret gave a sad smile. “She’s always humming it at home. You’ve given her something to look forward to.”
Lily paused, touched. “She’s a joy to have here.”
