Chapter 19
Chapter
It’s a Tuesday afternoon, and while the line is moving fast, I’ve still waited approximately fourteen minutes before I finally get within view of the inside and catch a glimpse of Adam in the back.
He’s tossing a pizza with his hands, and I fight the urge to take out my phone and record him.
I wave from where I’m standing but he doesn’t notice me.
I whisper-shout “Adam” as if that will help, and a guy working the register looks over and then calls back into the kitchen.
“Yo, Ad, some girl keeps calling you.”
Adam frowns and looks over at the crowd. When he spots me waving, he wipes his hands on a towel, then points to the back entrance. It’s a shame to leave my place in line, because there are only six people in front of me, and I am kind of hungry.
When I get to the back alley, he’s already standing there, waiting.
“Are you okay?” he asks in a slight panic. “What’s going on?!”
“I’m fine!” I laugh, feeling bad that I caused any sort of stress. “I tried calling and texting you.”
“Shit, my phone’s dead,” he says. “What’s happening?”
“Well,” I say slowly. “I wanted to tell you in person that…” I take a deep breath and collect myself. “I got a part in the revival of Chicago !” I scream, and in one motion Adam’s picking me up and swinging me around.
“What?! Holy shit, June! Oh my God!”
Since The Mousetrap, I’ve been fortunate to book back-to-back plays—all of them Off-Broadway and a handful of speaking roles. When I got the chance to audition for Chicago, the only person I told was Adam, because I didn’t want to jinxit.
“I got the call like an hour ago, it hasn’t even hit me—”
“You’re going to be on Broadway, June.” He says it in a way that makes this all very real. The look on his face alone sends me into tears of joy. He puts me down and tucks my hair behind my ear.
“It’s in the chorus, but I get a solo part in the ‘Cell Block Tango,’?” I say like he has any idea what that means.
“Fuck yeah, you do.” Adam is the only person who has never said they’re proud of me, like being proud means he somehow doubted my achievements. It’s one of the many things I appreciate about him.
“I just—I can’t even process any of it right now,” I say.
I’m going to be on Broadway. I remember the nights I spent as a child in bed praying that I could be there one day. The memory of my mother telling me it would never happen…and a part of me believed her. It feels like today is the beginning of the rest of my life.
“Well, we’re watching the movie tonight to celebrate,” he says like it’s a given. “What did Chloe say?”
“I’m going to call her after,” I say.
For a split second, his face is unreadable.
Like he’s almost surprised I told him first, but in fact I never thought twice about it.
Adam was the first phone call I made after getting the news, and when he didn’t answer I jumped on the subway straight to Luca.
Looking back, I can’t place exactly when the shift happened… when he became that person forme.
“Okay, well, tell her to come over tonight,” he says. “I’ll bring some pizza home.”
“I will.” I beam as he inches the door open to head back inside. But then it all happens so quickly. One minute he’s a few feet away, about to return to work, and the next he’s running back and I’m in his arms, my feet not touching the ground. He gives me another squeeze and kisses my cheek.
“This is just the beginning, June,” he whispers, although nobody is around us. He puts me back down, and the only thought in my mind is how it feels too good being in his arms.
“Can we just take a minute to talk about how you’re going to be doing that ?” Chloe says through a mouthful of ricotta-and-prosciutto pizza as we watch Catherine Zeta-Jones belt out “All That Jazz.”
“Except I won’t be, because I’m not playing Velma Kelly,” I say for the third time since the movie started. Which was only five minutes ago. “I’m just in the chorus.”
Adam shifts on the couch to face me. “You are not just in the chorus .”
“You are going to be on fucking Broadway, June!” Chloe grabs my arm and starts shaking me from the other side.
Since I’m sandwiched between my two biggest cheerleaders, I don’t fight them, and I let it settle in that this is really happening.
“Do you ever think about where we’re going to be ten years from now?” I ask, taking a bite of pizza.
“We’ll be in our thirties.” Chloe makes a face of disgust. “That’s scary.”
“You’re going to be a successful criminal-defense lawyer living in a rooftop penthouse on the Upper West Side,” Adam says.
“Harper.” She puts a hand to her chest. “And a rich husband?”
“Obviously,” he says, nodding.
“You know, sometimes I do think about moving somewhere warm, though,” she says.
My eyes widen, because in all the years I’ve known Chloe, this has never come up. “You would move?! You love New York!”
“I don’t know, maybe!” she says. “These winters are tough.”
“At the rate of global warming, there might not be winters in ten years,” Adam says with a shrug.
I look at Adam and shake my head. “I don’t think I could ever leave New York.”
“Well, what if you wanted to go into film or something?” Chloe asks.
A snort escapes me. “Yeah, right.”
The odds of becoming a film or television actress are one in five billion. With the number of people in college who tried and are still trying to get an agent and land a role, I’d have a better chance at competing in the Olympics.
“It’s a possibility!” Chloe says. “I mean, I’m sure Chicago is going to open some doors for you.”
“Yeah, but movies ? That’s totally different.” I shake my head. “Besides, I don’t want people seeing my face that close up.” I laugh.
“What are you talking about?” Adam frowns. “You’re stunning—you’d be great for film.”
Oh. I’m not quite prepared for my heart to skip a beat as a reaction to Adam calling me stunning.
Especially so casually. He’s occasionally told me I look good when I ask if he likes my outfit.
He’s mentioned that he prefers my hair when it’s left in its natural state.
But for some reason, this is different. It’s a confirmation of something that has felt entirely one-sided for years.
“He’s right,” Chloe says, which completely takes me out of the moment, thank God.
“Let me just worry about not screwing up my Broadway debut first, please.” I reach for another slice of pizza, this time the one with mushrooms and truffle oil.
“Ahh, I am so excited for you, June!” Chloe wraps her arms around me again, pushing me into Adam, resulting in my head being buried in his chest. Has he been working out more? “Life as you know it will never be the same.”
In February, we find out that Audrey is undergoing lung surgery.
It’s a point in her battle that nobody anticipates or knows how to handle.
Through many conversations with the doctors that Adam insists on being present for, we prepare as best we can, and thankfully the surgery is a success.
The cancerous tissue is removed with no complications and Audrey’s new routine will consist of follow-up appointments every few months.
During Audrey’s recovery time, Adam and I both take the week off and stay at the house with Ford and Sarah.
Despite the circumstances, I’ve never felt closer to the Harpers.
They exude love even in the darkest of times.
On Thursday night, Adam and Ford meal prep while Sarah and I spend time at the hospital until visiting hours are over.
“Mom, what color do you want?” Sarah holds up two nail polish bottles, one containing a sparkly purple and the other a soft pink.
“Well, that one is really something, isn’t it?” Audrey laughs, bringing the purple polish closer.
“It’s fun!” Sarah says.
“And that’s exactly why I’m choosing it.” Audrey gives me a wink.
“Sarah was convinced you were going to choose the other one,” I say.
“Well, there’s enough nails to go around.” Audrey unfolds the blanket lying on top of her, displaying her feet. “I’ve got ten fingers and ten toes.”
I sit on the left side of Audrey with the pink bottle while Sarah crosses her legs on the foot of the bed with the purple.
I brush the first layer of pink nail polish on Audrey’s thumb, admiring the classic, delicate color.
It’s the perfect shade against her fair skin.
Looking over to Sarah, I immediately notice the bright sparkles and think how it captures the light within Audrey.
“How’s calculus, Sarah?” Audrey asks. Sarah started her junior year of high school in the fall and has opted in for all of the classes I would never have even entertained at her age.
“It’s great,” Sarah says.
“Great?” I raise my eyebrows in disbelief.
She immediately laughs. “Adam said the same thing.”
“There’s a reason why Adam went to culinary school and I majored in theater.”
“Spoken like a true right-brain,” she says.
“I’m with you, June,” Audrey agrees. “She gets it from Ford.”
“But you were a teacher!” I say.
“English teacher,” she corrects. “Very different.”
“Can confirm.” Sarah points the nail polish lid in our direction. “She’s not helpful at all when it comes to math or science homework.”
“If I see numbers, I send her straight to her dad.”
“Are your parents artistic?” Sarah asksme.
“Nooo,” I scoff, and begin to paint Audrey’s right hand. “My mom was never into any of the movies I liked, or cared about musicals, and I think my dad was in finance? Probably an accountant or something.”
“Maybe you were adopted,” she says.
“I think in order to be adopted, your parents have to actually want you,” I say.
“We want you,” Audrey says earnestly.
“No, seriously.” Sarah looks up. “When you came to pick me up at school a few weeks ago, one of the girls thought you were my older sister. Honestly, I didn’t correct her.”
“It would be an honor to be your big sister,” I say, feeling touched by the idea.
“I’ve always wanted a sister.” Sarah looks at her mom. “No offense to Adam.”