“I know.” That proud teacher smile appears. “But we're starting a boys' tap class in January. Ages seven and up. We're calling it 'Rhythm & Roots.'“
My hands go still on my bag's zipper. “A boys' tap class? How are you funding?—”
“We already have six boys signed up. And we're adding a class for the little ones too. Ages four to six.”
“I don't understand. What changed?”
The studio is quieter now. Just us and one student still at the barre—the far corner, the spot with the best light from the window. Good choice. That was always my favorite place too.
“Holly, can you sit for a minute?”
I'm searching her face for clues as we sink into the worn chairs.
“Holly, someone made a donation to the school. A very substantial donation.”
The studio feels too warm.
“What kind of donation?”
“An endowment. For scholarships, performance costs—costumes, scenery, theater space rental. Facility improvements. Everything we've been struggling with.”
“Who would?—”
“It's called the Holly Bennett Scholarship Fund.”
All my organs hold an emergency meeting.
“What?”
“Someone who cares about you very much wanted to honor what you've given this community. What you've given these children.” She squeezes my hand. “It's structured as a perpetual endowment, Holly. We'll never want for anything again.”
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out.
The Holly Bennett Scholarship Fund.
“Mrs. Kowalski, I didn't—I can't?—”
The door bangs open. Marie comes flying in from the dressing room, coat only half on, cheeks flushed.
“Aunt Holly! We are doing Sleeping Beauty, with the REAL Aurora!”
I look back at Mrs. Kowalski and she laughs. “I was just getting to that part.”
She turns back to me. “We're bringing in guest artists. Professional dancers from Seattle Ballet for our spring production of Sleeping Beauty.”
Marie is bouncing now, literally bouncing. “The Lilac Fairy is coming! The actual Lilac Fairy!”
“Marie, sweetheart?—”
But she's spinning away, doing little chassés across the studio floor. “She's the most important fairy; she saves Princess Aurora from the curse?—”
“They'll be here for a week in May,” Mrs. Kowalski continues. “Master classes for our advanced students, then they'll perform the leads in our production.”
I can barely process the words. Guest artists. From Seattle Ballet. In Pinewood Falls.
“I need to—” I stand up, reaching for my bag. “Marie, want to walk to the bakery with me?”
“Yes!” She's already grabbing her coat. “And Aurora gets to dance with the Prince, and it's so romantic?—”
