When had he gotten a huge chip on his shoulder? My wealthy background had never been an issue in the past. We’d laughed about it when our differences arose, and I’d always appreciated that he didn’t make me feel weird or spoiled. That had clearly changed. Now he seemed to assume I was an entitled brat trying to dismiss the rules like they just didn’t apply to me.
Thankfully, before he’d showed up, I actually had had the foresight to call the historic society. The building dated back to the 1700s. I’d been on Naugatuck long enough to know how stuffy and protective people got about old buildings. I even understood the attachment to the town’s past, to a point. The downtown was charming. I loved how sleepy they’d kept everything with the ban on chain stores and the lack of traffic lights. Naugatuck had a character all its own, and I’d never been anyplace that compared.
But they went a little far with it. Like with my building. The first answer I got when I called the historic society was a clipped response that all of the information I needed could be found on their website. There, in fine print, I found all sorts of restrictions and prohibitions. Honestly, before Liam showed up I’d been on the fence.
But once he told me I couldn’t do it, I found myself vehemently asserting that I could. Who did he think he was, telling me there was no way it could happen? Like it was impossible. People bought stores on the island. They figured out how to do it.
I entered into the historical society office, smile on my face. The building was ancient, of course, with awkwardly small doorways and low ceilings. People had been smaller 250 years ago and hadn’t exactly favored an open floor plan. But baby steps, I reminded myself, taking a deep breath. I needed both determination and patience if I was going to get what I wanted.
A tiny woman who had to be in her 80s sat behind the desk today. The entire place was staffed with volunteers, but their pockets were deep and their influence over the town fierce. She wore a cardigan sweater over a long-sleeved dress even though the temperature was in the high 70s.
“Oh, no thank you.” She turned down my offer of coffee or a cookie. I sat down and explained my situation, how I was in the process of purchasing a historic building, how much respect I had for the architectural intent, etc.
“Is this the dance studio?” she asked. And if I was not mistaken, there was a twinkle in her eye.
“Yes it is, ma’am. I’ve been dancing professional ballet in New York for the last seven years and now I’d like to teach.”
“I’m a dancer myself.” Now I definitely saw a twinkle in her eye. A flicker of hope lit in my heart.
“Would you like to come see the space?” I asked eagerly.
“Oh, I’ve seen it,” she dismissed me.
“Yes, but I’d love to show you what I’m envisioning. What it could become if we can figure out a way to preserve and protect the space while also ensuring the safety of the children learning dance. What was your name again?” See how good I was getting? Honestly, I thought it would be fun to offer dance classes to all ages, but “think of the children” always seemed to resonate well with people.
“I’m Julia. And you say you have some ideas?” she asked, that spark of interest back in her crinkly blue eyes.
“I do. And I’d love to share them with you.”
After that, all it took was a call to her driver who happened to be waiting around back. Ah, the wealthy of Naugatuck. We rode over the two blocks, and Julia brushed aside my offer to take her arm as we walked to the doorway. Thankfully, I remembered the code for the realtor’s lock box and we were able to enter.
The place had a real feel to it, depth and character. We both stood there for a moment, appreciating the high ceilings, the wide-windowed view of the ocean.
“Over here on this wall, we could have mirrors.” I gestured along the far side. “A barre could go there, and a piano could go here.” I walked over to the corner. “And there’s a back room that’s perfect for a changing area and even a little bathroom that would need some updating, but the plumbing is there.” From the 1940s, I didn’t add. No need emphasizing the shortcomings when I finally had an attentive ear.
Julia looked around, a smile playing at her lips. Then, with a happy sigh, she said, “This could be a lovely dance studio.”
“Couldn’t it!” I twirled around, unable to stop my feet from moving. I’d brought Eloise by yesterday and she’d danced her way across the wooden floor as well. It seemed to inspire movement.
“Well,” she nodded, deep in thought. “Let’s see what we can do.”
“Really?” A smile burst across my face. She’d just said let us, as if she and I were on the same team.
“I think Harold may be the right person to talk to.” She made her way over to the window, a dreamy look on her features. “He’ll know how to handle this.”
“Fantastic. Do you want to give me his number? Or should I stop by—?”
“Oh, hush now.” Julia waved at me like I was an overeager puppy. Which I was kind of acting like at the moment.
“I’ll speak with Harold,” she assured me. “These things can’t be rushed.”
“Well, I am in the process of closing right now. It would be great if we could get some of these questions answered, figure out a course of action.”
“Yes, yes.” Julia swatted at me again to calm down and started making her way again to the doorway. “You’ve got plenty to keep you busy. You talk to all the people who can do things to this beautiful space and see what they have to say. I’ll see about getting you permission to make some changes.”
“Oh, thank you so much.” I wanted to give her a hug, but she looked
so tiny I was worried I’d crack a rib.
At the door, she turned and gave me a smile. “This is going to be fun.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
Feeling lighter than I had in months, maybe years, I made sure she got back into her car safe and sound and then returned to my sunlit studio. I’d already come by with a dustpan and broom plus a couple of rags and some Windex. The place looked like it was almost ready to open. How hard could it be to fix a little wiring? I just needed the right people who knew how to work on historic buildings. And now, with Julia on my side, maybe I’d get some more green lights to move ahead.
“This still a good time?” A guy in jeans and a T-shirt poked his head into the studio.
“Is it noon already?” I’d called an electrician the day before to come take a look at the project. I’d found him on Yelp and been thrilled when he’d said he had time to come stop by. So far, in the middle of the busy summer season, most of my calls had gone straight to voice mail, and those who did respond, frequently told me they wouldn’t have any time in the coming weeks.
“Yup.” He walked in and started looking around. Once he got into the back room, he started making the disgusted kinds of grunts and groans of a gourmet forced to sit through a meal of fast food.
“You see this?” He pointed to some exposed wiring, up at a corner in the ceiling. I’d wondered about that. “I couldn’t even get at that because they won’t let me touch an inch of this plaster. Which, by the way, all needs to come down.” He poked a finger at a patch that looked suspiciously crumbly and, sure enough, it disintegrated like powdered sugar.
“And do you want to try to keep that a bathroom?” He pointed and made a face like keeping it would be the craziest idea he’d ever heard.
“We’re going to need a bathroom for the students.”
“Pffst.” He blew air out of his nostrils like an angry bull. “Naw, I’m not touchin’ this project.” He started walking out of the studio.