The Pages We Forget (10 page)

“Hi, this is Leatrice,” she answered.

“It's me. Where are you?”

“Downtown. I'm just leaving the office. Is everything okay? You sound a little shaky.”

“Trevor just caught me.”

“Caught you? Doing what?”

“I was having a bad cramp.”

“How bad was it?”

June hesitated.

“How bad of a cramp, Junie?”

“I was on the floor.”

“On the floor? Get dressed! I'm on my way to your house and you're going to see Dr. Wylie, even if I have to drag you to his office.”

“Leatrice.”

“Get dressed! I'm on my way.” Leatrice pressed the end call button before June could say another word.

June looked up as Trevor was walking in the room.

“Here's your water, Ma.” He handed her the glass and she put the phone on the hook.

“Thank you, baby.” June drank the water and tried to appear relaxed.

“Who was that on the phone?”

“Leatrice.”

Thirty-two minutes later, Leatrice pulled into June's driveway. Trevor was lying on the floor in the family room playing “World Cup Soccer” on the Xbox 360 when Leatrice marched into the room. “Trevor, where's your mother?”

“Upstairs resting,” he answered.

Leatrice headed for the stairway.

“Auntie Lea,” Trevor called. He paused the game. “She needs to rest because she's not feeling good. She ate some bad tuna.”

“All right,” Leatrice said. “I'll only be a minute.”

“She's already asleep,” Trevor advised her. “You can wait down here until she wakes up.”

“I need to see her now, so you go on and play.”

“She needs her rest!” Trevor stood and insisted.

“Who do you think you're talking to?” Leatrice turned to meet Trevor. “Boy, I will—”

“Hello, Leatrice.” June stood at the top of the stairway. “Looks like I got here just in time.” She grinned.

“Yeah, just in time to see me whip his lil ass. I always said you didn't need bodyguards because you have,” she nodded at Trevor, who stood at the bottom of the stairway, “Mighty Mouse.”

“You can leave my boy alone,” June said. “He's only looking out for his mother.”

“That's right,” Trevor seconded.

“Okay, Trevor,” June stopped him. “That's enough. I can handle it from here.”

“I was playing with Auntie Lea, Ma. Chill.”

“You're gonna be the one chilling the next time you raise your voice at me,” Leatrice said and then turned to June. “And you, how come you're not dressed?”

“Can I talk to you in the room?” June started toward the bedroom.

“There's nothing to talk about,” Leatrice said. “Slip something on and let's go.”

“Auntie Lea, where's she going?” Trevor asked.

Leatrice wasn't prepared for Trevor's question, so she stared straight ahead at June. She didn't want to look at Trevor because there was no way she could lie to him while looking him in the face.

“Are you ready to tell him?” June asked and turned and walked toward the bedroom.

“Tell me what?”

“Nothing, Trevor,” Leatrice answered and choked back the tears.
“We were going shopping, but since she has a stomachache, we'll go tomorrow.” She followed June into the bedroom.

June was sitting on the bed staring somberly at the doorway when Leatrice walked into the room and closed the door behind her.

“Did you tell him?”

Leatrice didn't answer. She stood there shaking her head and coming undone. It was only a matter of seconds before the dam broke.

“Why are you doing this?” Leatrice marched over to the bed and stood directly in front of June. “How do you think I feel knowing what I know? Do you think it's easy for me? Do you? I can't do this anymore, Junie! I can't stand here and watch you commit suicide because that's what you're doing!”

June reached for Leatrice's hand, but Leatrice stepped back and said, “No! Either you get dressed and come with me to Dr. Wylie's or I'm calling Alex.”

“Leatrice, listen.”

“No! I'm tired of listening. It's been nearly seven weeks since we learned the results of the biopsy, and what have you done about it? Nothing! Junie, I know you're scared. I'm scared. But we've got to do something and we've got to do it now. It's not going to simply go away.”

“I know, Leatrice. But I had to do the CD first!”

“Well, the CD's done. What are you waiting for now?”

June looked away.

“Junie, I know what you're hoping for. I know and I sympathize. But even if Keith hears the CD and shows up on your doorstep the next day, is that going to cure you?”

“Don't be ridiculous!”

“I'm not the one who's being ridiculous.” Leatrice huffed, “That
word best describes the reason you're putting your life on the line. Junie, I love you like a sister. Maybe even more. And all I want is what's best for you. That's why I'm begging you to come with me to Dr. Wylie's office. He'll tell you what I've been telling you all along. We can beat this, but you've got to start the treatment now.” Leatrice put her hand on June's shoulder. “Please, talk to him. That's all I'm asking. Please. If not for yourself, do it for Trevor.”

June hesitated for a moment before tearfully replying, “Next week. Call and set me an appointment for next week. I'll be ready then.”

“Thank you.” Leatrice cried, showing her relief. “Thank you.”

Trevor, on the other hand, felt the burden of secrecy pressing down on him. He sat quietly through dinner, which was unusual. It had been over three weeks since he and both of his parents had eaten dinner together. He was supposed to be ecstatic, giggling and talking nonstop, but he wasn't. That's how Alex knew something was bothering him. Alex was silent while they ate. He figured that whatever was troubling Trevor had something to do with his mother. And there was no way Trevor would betray June's trust with her sitting beside him. He would have to approach Trevor about it when June wasn't around.

Later that night, as he tucked Trevor in, Alex asked, “So what was your day like?”

“It was all right,” Trevor answered. “I talked to Gramps.”

“She called?”

“No. Ma called her.”

“What did Gramps have to say?”

“She didn't talk that much to me, but she was yelling at Ma on the phone. I think she's still mad with Ma for not coming home for Easter and for not hardly calling her.”

“Well, you and I are going to stay out of this one. Junie made
her bed hard, so she's got to sleep in it.” Alex pulled the cover up around Trevor's chest. “By the way, is that what was bothering you during dinner?”

“Wasn't nothing bothering me.”

“Are you sure? You looked a little worried.”

“Me, worry? Come on, Dad.” Trevor sat up and began popping his fingers and singing, “Don't worry. Be happy. Don't worry. Be happy now.”

Alex wasn't amused. “Trevor, this isn't a joke. I know you think you're helping your mother by keeping quiet about whatever it is, but you're not. If something is wrong, I need to know about it, so I can help her. So we both can help her.”

“I don't know anything,” Trevor claimed.

“Would you tell me if you did?”

Trevor wanted to look away, but he knew if he did, Alex would take it as a sign he was hiding something. “Yes, sir,” he answered. Under his breath, he asked God to forgive him.

“All right.” Alex kissed Trevor on the forehead and then turned off the lamp beside the bed. “See you in the morning, sport.”

“Night, Dad.”

“Night.”

June was in the shower when Alex walked in their dimly lit bedroom. He had time to do what he needed to do. He walked in his closet, kneeled down and reached far behind a row of more than twenty designer suits, and pulled out a gray duffle bag. He reached inside the bag and pulled out a stack of old envelopes. He looked through them and singled out an envelope. He walked out onto the balcony and removed a one-page letter from the envelope. He held the page at an angle so the moonlight and the bedroom light shone on the handwritten letter.

I don't know how to say this, Junie, so forgive me if it doesn't come
out right,
he read from the letter.
I have to say this and I wish I could say it directly to you, but I can't. Junie, if I never get the chance to say this again, please remember, I love you.

Alex felt uneasy about what he was doing. These were her private letters and, if he was honest with himself, it was a betrayal of trust to even have them in his possession. He kept telling himself that he should not be reading them. When he walked into the studio to get her for breakfast and saw the pocketbook and letters, he initially turned and walked away. But he thought about all the questions he'd wanted to ask June about Keith, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He thought the letters might hold the answers to some of those questions. It was his chance to learn more about this man whom she still loved, even though she hadn't seen him in seven years. That was enough to convince Alex to take the pocketbook and letters.

He took the letters with him to the office and spent the morning reading them. Whether it was insane jealousy or the beguiling joy of self-inflicted pain, he could not put the letters down or give them back. What was it about Keith's words that touched her so? Was it his particular choice of words? The phrasing? Or was there something else? He planned to read and keep reading until he found out.

Alex caught his reflection in the glass door and saw a troubled man staring back at him. For years he had tried to hide his insecurity. He had done a good job of it until June's out-of-nowhere decision to record
The Pages We Forget,
which to him, was as sure a sign as any that her heart still belonged to Keith. Even so, he couldn't simply let her walk out of his life. They shared too much. Her life was his life and he wasn't about to let a night she spent in another man's arms ten years ago take that from him.

Reading the letters charged him up, but it was Bernard who lit the fuse. They were on their way back to the office from a meeting when Bernard turned to him and said, “Man, you're losing.”

“How's that?” Alex asked. “Didn't I talk the studio into postponing film production for almost two months?”

“Damn the studio, damn the record company, damn everybody. Right now, Junie is the only person that counts. Period. And, man, if you don't get it together, you're going to lose her. And to whom? An idiot. A man stupid enough to walk away and leave her.”

“B, don't get me wrong, but I really don't want to hear this.”

“All right,” Bernard said. He stopped for a red light at East Jefferson. That's when he asked, “What are you going to do when she leaves?” The fuse was lit.

Alex put the letter back in the envelope and walked inside. He could hear the shower and smell the raspberry-scented bath gel she loved so much. He imagined how she looked as the lather covered her breasts and trickled downward to her navel. He put the letter in the duffle bag with the others as he began undressing. He took off the Nike T-shirt and his sweatpants.

He hesitated before going into the bathroom.
What do you plan to do when she leaves?
he recalled Bernard asking. What would he do? He turned the doorknob and then opened the door and walked inside.

“Alex, is that you?” June asked from the shower. “Alex?”

He stepped out of his fitted boxer briefs and opened the shower door.

“Alex, what are you doing?”

He placed his index finger over her lips and closed the shower door behind him. “Ssshhhh.” He moved to kiss her softly on the lips.

In his eyes she saw a man who felt forgotten. The man standing
in front of her, touching her, saved her once. But now his eyes were showing a side of him that she had never seen. Defeat. Loss. She could see everything he was feeling by looking into his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm so sorry.”

“It's not your fault, baby.”

And there it was again. The thing she loved most about him. After all these years, he was still able to forgive her for not being completely satisfied with his unconditional love.

“I really do love you, Alex.” The tears flowed freely as her emotions came to bear.

“I know.” He gently wiped the water off of her face and the tears streaming from her eyes. He kissed her trembling lips. “I'm here, Junie. Right here, baby.” He kissed her again, first on the lips, moving to that extremely sensitive spot on her neck right below her right earlobe. Then, he moved down to her tender breasts.

Her knees buckled. “I love you, Alex,” she professed. She opened her arms, her heart and her mind and took him inside of her. “I love you.”

(lyrics and arrangement by June)

It's been too long

since I've seen your smile.

Way too long

since I looked into your eyes.

But now I see

someone staring back at me,

who has your smile

and that sparkle in your eyes.

Could it be,

finally,

the one I gave my heart to?

Is it really you?

CHORUS:

I know you;

you know I know you.

I don't mean to stand here staring,

but I know you from somewhere.

I know it's you;

boy you know I know you.

Because in your eyes I see him there.

I know you from somewhere.