Chapter 21
Chapter
On my first free afternoon in weeks, I celebrate by reading my last book purchase, which has taken me months to finish. Adam’s fumbling in the kitchen, but I don’t lookup.
“Lunch is ready when you want it,” he calls out.
“One second.” I keep reading, determined to finish the last chapter. My eyes travel through the words of the last page. “Aaand…done!” I slam my book shut and place it on a shelf, displaying its bright red spine with gold embroidery.
On the table are two sandwiches wrapped in waxed paper and a grease-soaked bag of onion rings from our favorite local spot.
“Eggplant parmigiana is on the right,” he calls over his shoulder while filling up two glasses of water.
“Have you talked to your mom since her check-in yesterday?” I take a bite into an onion ring.
“Yeah, I—” He stops. “Wait, how’d you know it got moved up?”
“She called me earlier this week,” I say.
Adam sets the waters on the table and takes a seat. “You know, I feel like she calls you more than she calls me.”
The past four months have been a whirlwind of early-morning rehearsals, late-night performances, and shifts at the bookshop.
It’s the busiest I’ve ever been in my life, and the sole thing that’s been keeping me sane are weekly phone calls with Audrey.
It happened almost immediately after I went with Adam to Long Island.
What was a quick call between him and his mom turned into put June on the line, I want to say hi.
Eventually, she started calling me directly and I would call her when I wanted to.
It didn’t take long to develop a similar relationship with Sarah by text.
“That’s because we’re besties.” I smile.
“She’s happier when she talks to you.” Adam unwraps his sandwich. “What do you two even talk about?”
“This and that.” I shrug.
“Do, uh, I ever come up?” he asks.
I give him a smug smile and take a giant bite of my sandwich.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” My phone buzzes on the kitchen table and I flip it over.
My eyebrows rise as Audrey Harper flashes across the screen.
“Speaking of…” I answer and put her on speakerphone.
“Hi, Audrey, you’re on with me and Adam! ”
“Hi, Mom,” Adam says through a mouthful of his sandwich.
“How’s it going?” she asks, her voice sounding weaker than last time.
“All right,” I say. “We’re just eating lunch before Adam goes to work. How are you feeling?”
“You know, hanging in there,” she says.
“Audrey, I just finished a book that I think you’ll really like.” I take another bite of an onion ring. “I’ll have to bring it over next time I’m there. It’s a thriller.”
“Oh, I’ve been in need of a new one,” she says. “Give me something with a good twist at the end.”
“I’m not saying anything!” I hold my hands up. “You’re going to have to just read it to find out.”
“Fine, fine. How are things with Maya and Aaron, by the way?” she asks.
Adam makes a face, and I wave a hand dismissively at him. I’m positive he has no idea Maya and Aaron are two of my castmates who are secretly hookingup.
“I mean, she hasn’t said anything to me, but apparently Jamie saw them at this piano bar, the Duplex, on Friday,” I explain.
Adam yet again makes a face because he doesn’t know who Jamie is either.
“Oh dear…Well, I’m rooting for them. They deserve to be happy,” Audrey says.
“I know, and they’re so perfect for each other. I’m hoping it all works out.”
We end up chatting for another fifteen minutes before Adam asks if he can hijack our call and talk to his dad. As I pass my phone over, I tell Audrey that I’ll call her next week, and for a moment I think that this is what it must feel like to be friends with your mom.
A couple of weeks later, I’m dropping off our rent check to Stanley on the other side of town. Most months Stanley comes to our place to pick up rent, but since I have free time today I decide to drop it off in person and bring him a sweet treat.
Stanley lives in an average apartment on the Upper East Side that is absolutely dripping with drama and rich decor elements that aren’t particularly easy on the eyes.
There’s chunky wood furniture from, I imagine, the eighties or nineties.
He also has a borderline hoarding issue when it comes to photographs, books, and paperwork.
“How are you, dear?” Stanley looks up from his home office desk, which is full, of course, of more paperwork.
“I’m good! Just dropping off this month’s rent.” I place it in front of him along with a chocolate croissant. “Aaand a little something else.”
He gives me an I told you to stop getting me things look, but takes the brown paper bag anyway. “How did you know my blood sugar was getting low?”
“Just a hunch.” I wink. “How are you?”
“Tired,” he says, and lets out a dramatic sigh. “But I guess once you reach my age that’s nothing new.”
“I don’t know. That’s not too normal for thirty-six,” I say, and he barks out a laugh.
“How’s the show? I told you I have tickets for the fifteenth, right?” He sits back in his dark brown office chair, which I’m convinced is a prop from The Rockford Files.
“Yeah, Adam told me. I’m going to meet you afterwards and show you backstage, okay?”
“You don’t have to do that,” he says.
“I want to!” I insist, and am already excited at the idea of showing him around. Among the many artifacts around his home are framed Playbill s, Broadway posters, and a collection of scripts from eBay any theater buff would be proud to own.
“Well, I’m excited. And how’s Adam doing? His mom’s out of the hospital now, right?”
I think I mishear him.
“Sorry?”
“The hospital. She’s out now?” he repeats, but I don’t say anything. I can feel the blood drain from my face. “I-I’m sorry…I thought you knew,” Stanley says apologetically. “I stopped by the house a few days ago and Adam told—”
“A few days ?” I feel a knot in my chest. I turn on my heels and I don’t even know if I say anything else before I’m jumping on the subway.
The house is empty when I walk through the door, but I hear a noise above me. I don’t take my jacket or shoes off and run up the stairs, then burst into Adam’s room.
“Why didn’t you tell me?!”
Adam turns around, dumbstruck. He’s pulling a sweater over his head, and I can tell he’s getting ready for work based on the old jeans he already has on. There’s a quizzical look on his face and I think maybe I have the wrong information. That this is a mistake. Then he looks down.
“June, I’m sorry,” he finally says.
I can feel my eyes welling up. This isn’t a mistake. “You should have told me.” My voice trembles.
“Yeah…” he says softly. “Fuck, I know.”
That’s all he can say? I want to ask why he would keep this from me and if he has any idea how embarrassing it is to find out from Stanley of all people.
Instead, I ask the only thing I really want to know.
“How is she?”
“Not good,” he almost whispers.
I know it’s stupid and selfish for me to be so upset that I found out like this. Because whatever I’m feeling, he’s feeling one hundred times worse.
“I’m going there,” I say. Audrey’s the closest thing I have to a mother and I want to be with her.
“No, you’re not,” Adam says harshly. “This is why she didn’t want you to know.
You’re not skipping any performances because of this,” he demands, and I can feel tears falling down my cheeks.
I can’t hold it in any longer. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.
” His voice cracks, and now I’m mad at myself because I’m responsible for the look on his face.
“Adam—”
“Just please don’t do anything…” he pleads. “Not yet.”
I don’t push it. I know that he’s telling me he’s going to need me. Soon.
I’m standing in an unfamiliar kitchen watching Adam from across the room.
There are about fifteen people between him and me, and I don’t know any of them.
My eyes travel down, and I pick a piece of lint off my black dress.
I despise this dress. It was bought with the intention of wearing it today and I’m going to throw it out after the end of the night.
My gaze lifts back up to Adam, and his shoulders are sloping beneath his dress shirt.
He’s hugging relatives and nodding at what they’re saying but I know he’s not listening.
Chloe and Robby are sitting at the kitchen table with Sarah, eating some sort of egg or tuna salad.
I wouldn’t know, because I haven’t had an appetite in two days.
We all stayed at the Harpers’ house last night, and Adam demanded that Chloe and I stay in his childhood room while he and Robby took the couches.
The last time I saw Sarah I remember thinking how mature she is, how she’s whip-smart and has a sense of humor wise beyond her years.
When I look at her now, she seems like a child.
I shoot Robby an appreciative glance and he gives me a reassuring nod that almost makes me cry. Everything almost makes me cry.
In one of the armchairs, Ford sits silently, almost as if he is in a trance.
The occasional person pats his shoulder or crouches down to comfort him, sharing the same sentiment over and over again, I’m sorry for your loss.
He smiles at everyone and nods like he’s hearing them.
But there’s a vacant look behind his eyes.
There’s an ache deep in my chest that I can’t soothe, the smell of freshly cooked pasta in large tin containers, and the sound of chatter from the many conversations happening.
Despite the sea of black fabric, one would think this was a party, a celebration.
Maybe it is. Maybe this is meant to be a celebration of Audrey’s life, yet I can’t make myself feel anything but heartache.
Through the window, I watch the swing set in the backyard slightly swaying back and forth in the breeze.
There’s a royal blue slide and I wonder whose kids use it.
There are only a small number of children here today, all of whom are running around and laughing, yet nobody is telling them to stop.
There’s a broken plank on the wood fence and I wonder if that was caused by one of the kids, or perhaps a dog.
So many stupid thoughts enter my mind, and I welcome them.
Let me think of anything other than what’s happening today.
Adam approaches the kitchen, ruffles Sarah’s hair, and then stands besideme.
“Hey,” he says. We’ve barely exchanged words this morning. I held his hand throughout the entire funeral, yet no words were exchanged. Hearing his voice now unravelsme.
“Hi,” I say softly.
“Want to get out of here?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“There’s still more food that needs to—”
“Please, I just need to get out of here,” he says desperately.
“Okay,” I say, because of course I’ll do anything he wants right now.
Adam briefly talks to Robby and they give each other a hug, followed by one from Chloe.
Then he takes my hand in one of his, grabs his jacket in the other, and pulls me out the back door of the house.
We get into Ford’s truck and sit in silence until we pull into his parents’ driveway, which is no more than ten minutes away.
He starts up the stairs before I even have a chance to lock the door. I let in a breath and scan the empty house. The last time I was standing here, Audrey was hugging me, telling me to come back soon. She was fine—she was continuing her treatment, and she was going to be fine.
I slip off my heels to follow Adam and I catch a glimpse of a book with a red spine and gold embroidery on a side table by the couch.
There’s a receipt wedged in between the pages being used as a bookmark.
She had only about forty pages left. Audrey never got to the plot twist, and right now, I wish more than anything I had told her what it was.
But I guess life gives us twists of our own…
and it doesn’t wait until we get to the end.
When I get to Adam’s room, he’s already tugging at his tie, but having trouble.
Days like this feel like they should be dark and dismal, but the sunlight filters through the shades, casting a pattern on Adam’s chest. There’s a look on his face that’s been there for the past week, and I want more than anything to get rid of it.
To do whatever it takes. I walk over, take the silk in my hands, and loosen the knot gently.
I’m focused on the tie, but I can feel his gaze on mine, burning an imprint on the top of my head.
I slide the fabric over his shirt and place it on the dresser next to the framed photo of Audrey and Sarah in the photo booth.
“Thanks,” he says, but his mind is elsewhere.
The house is so silent I can hear the sound of kids walking outside. I’m not sure what time it is or even what day, but I imagine they’re coming home from school.
Adam comes up behind me and I turn around, wrapping my arms around him tight.
He buries his face in my hair, taking a deep breath in, and I’m getting used to this, how he holds me.
He’s been doing it a lot the past few days, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
It almost feels unnatural when we aren’t touching.
He pulls away after a moment and we lock eyes, his so dark and hollow that he almost looks like a different person.
“Can we just…lie down for a second?” he asks, but he’s already walking toward the bed. I follow and we lie side by side, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, June.”
I’m focused on the fan circling above and when I move my head, I see that Adam is asleep. As my eyes close, I have a frightening thought—I have no interest in lying next to someone who isn’t him.