Page 37 of Before I'm Gone


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Palmer once again offered Kent something to drink, but he had other plans. “What do you say we order in?”

His suggestion took her off guard, and she stammered over her words. Kent held his hand up, and his face beamed. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time together. We should start with dinner.”

Kent had a very valid point, and Palmer found it hard to argue with him, but she was still going to try. “I haven’t agreed to be your bucket list buddy.”

“It’s your bucket list,” he pointed out. “In fact, I think you titled it ‘Before I’m Gone.’” He leaned forward to look at the paper in her hand, but she hid it behind her back. “Sort of morbid, don’t you think?”

“I’m dying.”

“So you’ve said. But right now, we’re living. Let’s live like we’ve never lived before for the next however many months we have.”

“It’s just me.”

Kent shrugged. “Don’t be so sure of yourself. What if—”

“Don’t say it,” Palmer said, pointedly. “You have a child on the way. You need to live.”

“Might,” Kent corrected. “And I have every intention of living a long, happy life. And those same intentions plan on giving you the happiest of days until you say stop.”

Palmer needed a break from the back-and-forth. She went to the drawer in her kitchen and pulled out the stack of takeout menus. She turned and, much to her surprise, saw Kent standing on the other side of her kitchen island. Palmer set the menus down and gave him a pointed look.

“If we’re going to do this, it’s only fair that you add to the list as well. It can’t be all about me.”

“Deal,” Kent said.

“And you let me pay for everything.”

Kent’s mouth dropped open, and he slowly shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s only fair.”

“I don’t see how.”

Palmer crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re going to see me at my worst, and I’m going to have to depend on you, and you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart. I already feel like a burden. You shouldn’t have to bear any financial responsibility for these trips. Besides, I can’t take the money with me, so I might as well spend it . . .” Her words trailed off.

“I’ll tell you what.” Kent picked up the stack of menus, waved them in the air, and fanned them out on the counter. “We eat first, and then we make a game plan. We’ll budget everything, and we’ll look at my work schedule. For the longer trips, I’ll use my vacation time. When we go east, we can either make a couple of trips, or we can go for, like, two to three weeks.”

“Are you sure about this?” she asked.

Kent held his hand out, and Palmer shook it. “Without a doubt. I’m ready to start our adventures.”

Kent’s additions to Palmer’s list

See the northern lights in Minnesota

Visit Plymouth Rock

Touch Babe Ruth’s bat

Travel the Loneliest Road

Visit the Muhammad Ali Center

Dance in the rain with someone I love

Take the ferry to the Statue of Liberty

Check out the Grand Canyon

Take every picture I can of Palmer

Make Palmer smile

THIRTEEN

The sun shone brightly and forced Kent to squint as he approached the door to RoccoBean. He smiled warmly at the people he passed as he made his way to the counter. Kent placed his normal order and then stood off to the side while he waited. He scrolled through the news apps he had on his phone and avoided social media like the plague. He and Maeve were friends on there, and the last thing he wanted right now was to see any updates from her. Kent was happy, and he wanted nothing to dampen his day.

Kent loved his new routine. He’d thought he would hate waking up alone on the days he had to go to work, but not this morning. He woke up rejuvenated and with a new purpose in life—to make Palmer’s last days her most memorable.

With coffees in hand—one for him and one for Damian—he thanked the barista and made his way back to his car. He thought about Palmer and their dinner the night before. They bantered like siblings. They had decided on pizza for dinner, but they couldn’t figure out toppings. She wanted veggies, and he wanted meat. Kent suggested half and half, but Palmer said there was no way she’d eat half a pizza, and it made sense for her to pick off whatever she didn’t want. Kent refused. He wanted her to have whatever she wanted.

They instead went through the stack of takeout options and finally agreed they wanted Italian. Kent ordered pasta, salad, and breadsticks, and then Palmer called back and added to the order because she wanted Kent to have leftovers for his lunch the next day. No one had ever done something like that for him, and he gave Palmer the biggest hug he could. He may have held on longer than was casually acceptable, but she didn’t seem to mind. Kent liked being around her, more than he probably should.

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