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)
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Dance with me,” he said as he stood and pulled her up with him.
He stepped them away from the bench and spun Palmer around, surprising her. Their hands connected, and they swayed to the melodic sounds of Lana Del Rey’s “Young and Beautiful.” Kent held Palmer tightly, with his arm pressed to her back and his hand clutched in hers. Palmer pressed her face into the crook of his neck and hummed along.
“I’ve never danced in the rain,” she said when the song ended and the next one began.
“Me neither. I love that we’re doing something together for the first time.”
“Me too,” she whispered against his neck. Kent desperately wanted to kiss her, but he was afraid she would rebuff him. She had every reason in the world to stop his advances. She didn’t need a lover, she needed a friend, and he had vowed to be that for her.
TWENTY-FOUR
“Put that aside,” Palmer told Kent after she stood and faced the massive granite steps of the Lincoln Memorial. All morning, Kent had pushed Palmer and her chair down the sidewalks of the National Mall, acting as if he were some race car driver. He even added sounds, which were meant for her entertainment. At one point, he wove in and out of foot traffic while making honking noises with his mouth. When they halted at the crosswalk, Palmer asked for a seat belt because she was afraid he was going to inadvertently dump her onto the ground. She was being facetious, of course. Kent would do nothing to hurt her.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “They have a ramp and elevator.”
“I’m not disabled,” she said as she stared straight ahead. The steps loomed in front of her, inviting yet challenging. She could walk, but she tired easily. And sure, at the end of the day, she’d soak in a tub of epsom salts. Palmer didn’t want pity or help, not right now.
“I never said you were,” Kent said. “I’m sorry if you think I’m treating you like you are.”
They exchanged glances, and she smiled at him, aware that she may have accused him of doing something he hadn’t. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’d like to try the steps.”
“All right. Let’s do it then.”
The smaller steps were no problem for Palmer, and walking the space between each set of three stairs was a piece of cake. She turned and looked at the Reflecting Pool and then the Washington Monument, and felt small. The memorials were impressive, and she wondered what it had been like when people flocked there to protest the Vietnam War. The movies she’d seen likely didn’t do that moment in history any justice.
They’d visited the Vietnam Memorial earlier in the day. Palmer had trailed her fingers over the names and wondered if anyone of them had been in her family. She had yet to hear from her aunt or sister and thought they’d given up their search. She had no idea when they’d taken their DNA test, and for all she knew, the service might not have an updated email for them. Kent reminded her often that not everyone checks their email daily and to give them time.
With a big intake of air, she faced her self-created task. Kent was next to her, poised to catch her if she faltered and ready to celebrate after she succeeded. The chair, however, was next to him. It was probably for the best. Someone could easily walk away with it, or she could need it when she finally made it to the statue of Lincoln.
“How many steps?” she asked Kent.
“Eighty-seven from where we started.” He had the number memorized. In fact, he had every aspect of DC memorized, which astounded Palmer. Any question she threw at him, he had an answer, and if he didn’t, they looked it up together.
“I can do this.”
“Of course you can.” Kent stretched. He brought his ankles up to his butt and brought his arms over his chest. He bent at the waist and did some side-to-side exercises while Palmer stared at him.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to race you,” he joked.
Palmer scoffed. “Okay, but you start over at the Washington Memorial.”
He turned and laughed. “Come on, we don’t have all day.”
“Wow, you’re a laugh a minute.”
“I know.” He picked the chair up and took the first step, and then the second. He wouldn’t go too far away from her, but enough to get her moving.
“Look at you,” he said when she stepped onto their shared step. “Only like a million more to go.”
Palmer nodded and moved closer to the wall. There wasn’t a rail, but the wall would give her some stability if she needed it. She stepped again and again until they reached the next platform. Kent set the chair down, opened it, and asked if she wanted to rest.