Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
“It’s like the next nail in the coffin,” she mumbled. “Right now, I look like I’m a healthy thirty-seven-year-old, but once I’m in that chair and you’re pushing me around, everyone is going to know I’m sick.”
Kent was at a loss for words. They sat there in the parking lot and watched people go in and out of the building. On one end, there was the medical supply store, and on the other, a pizza parlor.
“Do you want me to cancel the order?” he asked, breaking the silence between them.
Palmer thought for a long moment and then finally shook her head. “No, you’re right. I’m going to need it. I just wasn’t prepared.”
He said nothing as he hopped out of the Jeep and hurried into the store. He hoped the transaction wouldn’t take too long because he didn’t want to leave Palmer alone for long. Kent had upset her, and he had to make it up to her.
While the clerk processed his paperwork, he meandered around the store and tried to spy on Palmer through the window. He didn’t have a clear line of sight, but he could see her sitting in the passenger seat. He went to the counter and read the advertisement for a medical identification service. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get something for Palmer, but the likelihood he would be away from her when she needed medical attention was slim. Kent had already upset her with the wheelchair; he didn’t want to add insult to injury. Still, he pocketed the flyer and decided he’d research it later, after she’d gone to sleep.
The salesclerk brought the wheelchair around and gave Kent his receipt. He was now the proud owner of a lightweight folding chair with hand brakes. He wasn’t sure which part was light. It was anything but. Kent half carried, half wheeled the chair out to the car and placed it in the back. He then climbed in and hoped everything would be okay.
Palmer greeted him with a smile, which made him happy. “It’s only if we need it,” he reminded her, and she nodded.
“I think I’ll have you push me in it while we’re on the beach. I don’t want to get sand in my shoes.”
Kent studied her for a long moment with a blank expression. He waited for her to crack under pressure, and when she finally did, her laughter filled the car. “I’m on to you, Sinclair.”
“Me too, Wagner.”
Kent redirected the GPS, and they started their trip toward Plymouth. This was a stop he’d added, since they were going to see the sunrise in Chatham the next morning. He wanted to see the famous rock, walk the waterfront town, tour the replica of the Mayflower, and drive what many called “the old road to the Cape” highway.
“This traffic looks like San Fran,” Palmer said when they hit the first of many backups.
Kent laughed. “Unfortunately, I think we might hit a lot of traffic on this side of the country. The infrastructure is much older than on the West Coast.”
“And they’re not always rebuilding after earthquakes,” Palmer stated matter-of-factly.
What should’ve taken them fifty minutes, not counting their stop for breakfast and the medical store, took them about an hour and a half. Once they came closer to town, the traffic eased up considerably. As they drove, Palmer read from one of their travel books, listing off historical information. They parked, closed the top, and set out on foot.
Kent held her hand as they walked along the seaport of Plymouth. They leaned over the seawall, pointed at the sailboats that drifted by, and walked through the park. When they came to the Mayflower, Kent had Palmer stand in front while he took a picture of her.
“Is this going on your Instagram?” she asked.
“Do you want me to post it?”
Palmer thought for a moment and then shook her head. “Maybe later, but not yet. Here, let me take yours.” Kent handed his phone to her. He posed and then beckoned her over. Kent took his phone, held his arm out, and brought Palmer closer.
“Smile,” he said to her. Instead of looking at the camera, she looked at him. He snapped the photo. It was a memory he wanted to keep for a lifetime. In her features, he could see the sheer amount of gratitude she had for him. His heart, when he looked at the picture of her looking at him, sprang to life. The sensation was different from what he’d felt for anyone else. He thought it odd, but Palmer brought him a comfort and ease, a longing, he hadn’t noticed before.
Kent reached for her hand. He wanted to be close to her, touch her, without her thinking he was being too forward. He hoped she wouldn’t pull away. If she did, he would have to find some other subtle way of expressing his desire to be near her. He kept his pace slow as they walked toward the rock, and checked on Palmer often for any sign of distress. The seizures would come whenever they felt like it, with or without the medication. Her headaches would return as well as the dizziness. The medicine Dr. Hughes prescribed was a stopgap and could cease working at anytime.