The Pages We Forget

Dear Reader:

Anthony Lamarr made his debut as a Strebor author with
Our First Love
, which I found compelling once I discovered that it centered around the lives of two brothers, one who suffers from agoraphobia, and their bond. They eventually fall in love with the same woman. Now he returns with another type of love story.

June is a famous singer-songwriter who's caught up between the man who ruined her life a decade earlier and a musician who helps to boost her career to success. Whom should she choose?
The Pages We Forget
is a poignant read that features original lyrics from June that are included in her CD of the same name. Get ready for these passion-ate pages that will warm your heart.

As always, thanks for supporting the authors of Strebor Books. We always try to bring you groundbreaking, innovative stories that will entertain and enlighten. All of us truly appreciate your love and support.

Blessings,

Publisher

Strebor Books

www.simonandschuster.com

For Clarence “Jody” Adams III

“If you were here…”

In her first passion woman loves her lover.

In all the others, all she loves is love.

—G
EORGE
G
ORDON
B
YRON

This story is a work of fiction. The real Hampton Springs Hotel was built by railroad pioneer J.W. Oglesby and not the fictional character John Bacon. The town that developed around the hotel in the novel does not exist except in my imagination. Still, what a beautiful place it is.

(lyrics and arrangement by June)

Yesterday's songs,

some live forever.

Their rhythm and their rhymes

still playing melodies in our minds.

A story behind each

of a love we both promised to keep.

So many, many years

of lonely nights filled with tears.

CHORUS:

Our eyes tell stories

of how we used to be.

Memories locked inside

never to be free.

And now, after all this time,

we pass like we've never met.

Neither wanting to remember

the pages we forget.

The years have healed the pain.

We've learned to love again.

Until that moment in time,

when again we feel the rhythm

we hear the rhyme

slowly start to beat.

Then those chapters of our lives

start to repeat.

CHORUS

And now, after all this time,

we're still feeling the rhythm

and hearing the rhyme.

Will we ever remember?

Why don't you want to remember

the pages we forget?

H
is touch ruined her life. It had been more than ten years since she last felt his touch, but June remembered that night like it was last night. She could still feel their bodies touching for the first time. His trembling lips. Her love enveloping him. Him surrendering to her. Nothing escaped her memory of that cool April night. She could still hear the rain playing pitter-patter against the window. Smell traces of his Eternity cologne on the green comforter. Feel his love inside of hers. She didn't forget anything about the night they first made love. Not even the tears in his eyes as he tiptoed out of the room while she pretended to be asleep.

It had been ten years, two months and sixteen days, to be exact, since she gave herself to him, and seldom did a day pass when she didn't find herself reliving all or some part of that night. The memories didn't always replay in sequence. Sometimes they began as he took her in his arms while posing for their prom pictures, or two hours later when he opened the bedroom door at Mildred's Bed and Breakfast Inn. And sometimes at the very moment he surrendered to her. But mostly they began at the beginning with her staring out of her upstairs bedroom window at his house next door. Then Keith, alluringly debonair in a sky-blue and white tuxedo, strode out onto the wraparound porch with his gushing parents, Reverend and Lucy Kaye Adams, right behind him. He stopped
at the bottom of the four steps and patiently posed for pictures with his mother and then his father before getting into Reverend Adams' navy blue Lincoln Town Car and backing out the graveled driveway.

“Here he comes,” she shouted to her mother, who was in the next room putting film in the camera. She grabbed her pearl white clutch and white shawl off the bed and hurried out of the room. “Ma, come on!” She stopped at the top of the stairway and fidgeted with the spaghetti straps of the sky-blue gown, meticulously adjusting the opaque wrap until it draped perfectly. “Ma!”

“I'm ready,” Kathryn yelled and rushed in the hallway. She stopped in her tracks. “Oooh, my baby. You are so…”

The doorbell rang.

“Ma, it's him,” she shrieked. “He's here!”

“I'll get it,” Kathryn announced and started down the stairs.

“And I'll wait here.” She still felt butterflies whenever he came near, even after a twelve-year courtship that began the first time she saw him. His parents had driven from New Jersey to Hampton Springs so he could spend the summer with his grandparents, who lived next door. Her heart started racing and her legs began wobbling the moment she saw him get out of his parents' car that day. She felt that same dizzying sensation as she waited for him at the top of the stairs. To stop her knees from knocking and her heart from racing, she took a deep breath and held it.

Kathryn opened the front door. “Good evening, Mrs. Thomas.” Keith greeted her with a regal bow of the head before stepping inside.

“Is Junie ready?” Lucy Kaye asked as she and Reverend Adams rushed to beat each other inside, almost knocking Keith over during their haste.

“Wait until you see her.” Kathryn closed the door, trying her best to contain her excitement.

Keith watched her descend the stairway. His eyes glazed over. She exhaled.

“Kathryn, she's beautiful,” Lucy Kaye gushed. “Oh, my babies.”

He met her at the bottom of the stairway. “You look good.” He reached for her hand, his eyes conveying more than his lips could express in that moment.

“Good?” she hesitated.

“Better than good,” he corrected himself, trying to find the words that wouldn't sound inappropriate in front of everyone. “You are beautiful.”

“Thank you. And I must say that you are quite handsome.”

Lucy Kaye nudged Kathryn giving a knowing wink. “They're going to be the best-looking couple at the prom.”

“Turn around,” Reverend Adams told them, “so we can get a picture of you together.”

Keith put his strong, yet gentle, arms around her, and they both smiled as the cameras flashed. “Okay, I want you to change sides.” Reverend Adams took a look at the pose, shaking his head in his displeasure. “No wait. Keith, why don't you let Junie stand in front of you?”

“Come on, Dad. That's enough pictures.” Keith took her hand in his and led her out the door.

Outside, the scene, the moment, everything was perfect. It felt surreal. She paused to listen to the song of the redbirds as it floated melodically on the gentle breeze. It was a twilight symphony heard often in these parts. Majestic magnolias framed the yard and the ornately detailed Victorian house. The magnolias permeated the air with their pungent perfume. The sky, already painted in hues of faded blues, became even paler against the brilliance radiating from June and Keith.

The neighbors gathered in the yard. Mrs. Croft, who made the
white lily corsages and boutonnieres that perfectly complemented their attire, fettered into the yard like her feet were shackled. Mr. and Mrs. Whitehurst, Coach Rickards, Mrs. Blue Hen, holding her four-year-old grandson's hand, Mrs. Rosa Lee and her sister and brother-in-law, Mrs. Fannie Lou and Deacon P. H., and every member of the seven families who lived on Bacon Street were present. Inez, her best friend, and Inez's date, Nathaniel, a young man from Perry, were pulling in the driveway. Mrs. Whitehurst, Inez's grandmother, was already passing around Polaroids of Inez and Nathaniel. This was a proud moment for all of them. Three members of the Bacon Street families would soon be graduating from high school, and they knew that together they'd done a good job rearing these three exemplary young people. It showed on their gladsome faces and echoed in their jubilant laughter.