The Pages We Forget by Anthony Lamarr Page A

shaking her head. “You were older than sixteen the last time I saw you.”
    â€œAge ain’t nothing but a number!” the man yelled.
    She winked, joking with him. “Will somebody tell this cute young fellow in the front that he’s what we older girls call jailbait?”
    She turned to the audience and shouted, “I love you, Detroit!”
    Applause erupted throughout the venue.
    June smiled and blew kisses at the crowd. The locals had takenher into their hearts as though she were one of their own homegrown divas. Detroit was Alex’s home and the birthplace of the Motown sound that he recreated so well for some of June’s biggest hits. She came here with Alex right after Bernard, also a Detroit native, negotiated her recording contract with Antmar Entertainment. She was one of the first artists on the year-old label based in the Motor City. She blossomed and became a star. Now, everything was about to change.
    Leatrice tried to talk her out of it before the concert, but June was determined to go on as planned. Leatrice felt somewhat responsible because she was the one who pressured June into seeing Dr. Wylie again. She even made the Tuesday morning appointment. Leatrice figured that if Dr. Wylie had not been so truthful and direct, June would not have made this decision. And it was her insistence that prompted June to get a second and then third opinion. Both yielded the same diagnosis: the cancer was spreading rapidly and treating it would be more difficult.
    While Leatrice was helping June get dressed, she made a last-ditch effort to persuade June to rethink her decision. She zipped the burnt velvet Donna Karan gown, the first of three gowns June would wear during the concert. She adjusted the bodice and then walked around to face June.
    â€œIf I have to beg, I’m begging. Please give yourself a little more time to think about this.”
    â€œMore time?” June scoffed. “Leatrice, this is all I’ve thought about during the past three months,” June said, taking a seat at the vanity. “Besides, time is something I don’t have a lot of.”
    â€œStop saying that.”
    June stared in the mirror. “Will you look at me? My hair is ugly. This gown is too big, except for around the stomach, and that’s because I’m bloated. I look a mess.”
    â€œYou’ve lost some weight, but you’re still beautiful.”
    â€œYou’re just saying that because it’s your job to make me look like somebody.”
    â€œAnd it’s a job you make easy,” Leatrice responded. “Now stop complaining about nothing and listen to me. You’re about to make one of the biggest decisions of your life. You shouldn’t do that alone when you’ve got people who love you, myself included. If you were doing this because you were starting chemotherapy tomorrow, I would be behind you one-hundred percent. But that’s not why you’re doing it. You’re still hoping for something that’s not going to happen.”
    â€œMy mind’s made up!”
    â€œFine. Then do it. All I want you to do is tell Alex before you go out on that stage and tell the world.”
    â€œI can’t.”
    â€œYou can but you won’t.”
    â€œHaven’t I put him through enough already?”
    â€œWell, how do you think he’s going to feel when you’re done tonight? Will he be all smiles? What do you think, Junie? Will he be happy for you?”
    â€œNo, he won’t. But if I tried to talk to him now, he would automatically assume this was about Keith.”
    â€œNot if you told him the truth.”
    June stood and took a final look in the mirror. Although she complained about the way she looked, she was pleased with what she saw: a flawless, glowing complexion, perfect cheekbones, arched brows and big, brown, starving eyes. She was beautiful. Ravishing.
    â€œIf you told him the truth about the cancer, I