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There was a small gathering at the portico where people stood behind the wrought iron railing and looked down at the rock. Kent and Palmer waited their turn, and when they finally had a clear shot, they both said “Huh” at the same time. Kent took a couple of pictures, and then they walked across the street to Pilgrim Hall Museum, which sat atop a hill, with a steep incline of stairs. He stopped them there and looked at Palmer.
“Okay, so it wasn’t some magnificent . . . heck, I don’t even know. I thought the rock was going to be this giant formation.”
“And not a pebble?”
Kent laughed, and Palmer followed suit. “We can’t talk about history that way,” he said, even though he didn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth. “What about this?” he asked as he nodded toward the museum.
“Sure.”
Kent matched Palmer’s pace. She moved slowly, each step taking more and more of her breath away. They weren’t halfway up the flight of stairs when she needed to stop. He stood behind her and placed his hands on her hips, fearful she might fall if she were to lose her balance. She leaned into him and sobbed quietly. “I can’t do it.”
“Okay. There wasn’t anything in there I wanted to see anyway. Can you walk, or do you want me to go get the car?” He didn’t want to leave her, but he couldn’t make her walk if she wasn’t able. This was why he’d bought the wheelchair: for moments like this when her body refused to cooperate and she needed a little help.
Kent sat them down on a step. It was awkward, but it gave Palmer a reprieve. He held her with his arm around her shoulder and waited for guidance from her. They were in no rush and could sit there as long as they needed.
People walked by and asked if they required help. Each time, Kent thanked them and said they were fine. They would be once he got her back to the car. He couldn’t begin to understand what her body was doing to her, and why it picked the moments it did to be a nuisance. This was just the beginning, though. They had a long road ahead of them, and he was still determined to give her everything she wanted.
“I think I can walk now.”
“Okay,” Kent said, but before standing, he gave her a once-over. “Everything working?” he asked as he picked up her hands and wiggled her fingers. She had minimal mobility in her right pinkie, but it still functioned. “What about your vision? Are we clear or blurry?”
“A little blurry on the edges, but that’s going away.”
“Do you think you had a seizure?”
She didn’t answer him, and that was enough for him. When they got to their hotel later, he would document everything and email Dr. Hughes. Kent all but picked Palmer up from the ground. He didn’t let go of her until they were back in the car. He gave her another dose of the anticonvulsant and waited while she washed the pills down with water.
Kent waited for traffic to pass by before he went around to the driver’s side. He climbed in, reached for her hand, and kissed the back of it. “We’re good,” he told her. “There’s a beach calling our name.” He put the car into drive and headed out of town. This time, he didn’t set the GPS and followed the signs. They drove through Plymouth and its outskirts until they had to get on the interstate to cross into Cape Cod.
“It’s like a mini Golden Gate,” Kent said.
“More like micro,” Palmer added. “The Sagamore Bridge is one of two bridges accessing Cape Cod. The only other way onto the island is by plane or boat.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep. We’re about to drive through some very old towns and a lot of history,” Palmer told Kent.
“I’ll be sure to drive slow,” he replied as he winked at her.
EIGHTEEN
The soothing sounds of Kent’s alarm clock started at 4:00 a.m. He grumbled, rolled over, and shut it off. He lay there in the darkness and cursed his poor planning. Kent had forgotten about jetlag and how the three-hour time difference between the West and East Coasts would affect him. He sat up and groaned. His body was sore from traveling, and it had been a while since he’d worked out last. Come to think of it, the last time he’d worked out was prior to him responding to the call from Palmer’s work. After that, life went to hell in a handbasket when he responded to the accident involving Maeve. He would have to make it a point to work out while he and Palmer were on their vacation, but that would mean leaving Palmer for long periods of time, and Kent wasn’t sure about that.
