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They made it back to their car with only one purchase—a magnet for Kent’s refrigerator. It was a gift from Palmer. She’d picked it out for him and suggested they get one at every stop because they were easier than coffee mugs or other items, which would take up space in their luggage.
“Can we put the top back?” Palmer asked. It was chilly outside, but she wanted to feel the sun on her while Kent drove.
“Of course.”
Kent pushed the button to open the top while Palmer reclined her seat a smidge, enough to relax and yet still see out the window.
“We’re going to take Route 6A,” he told her. “It’s historic and will take us through most of the towns. If you see someplace you want to stop, let me know.”
“And we’ll stop if you see someplace you want to visit?” She wanted this trip to be about him as much as it was about her. Granted, the day before, they’d visited Plymouth, which was on his list, but she wasn’t sure if he’d added it because they would be in the area or not. So far, anything Kent had jotted down seemed close to the places she had.
“I’m driving, so I’m going to depend on you to tell us where we have to stop.” He winked and pulled out onto the road. He was clever in how he turned things around, but Palmer was onto him and his sly antics.
When she shivered, he turned up the heat, pressed the button for her heated seat, and told her they were going to buy some throw blankets to keep in the car. Palmer agreed. She wanted the best of everything right now. She loved having the roof open so she could smell the salt air and feel the warmth of the sun, but she was cold. Sometimes, teeth-chatteringly cold. Palmer still wore the sweatshirt Kent had lent her. It was hers now, and except for the times she’d need it to smell like him again, she had no intentions of giving it back to him.
Palmer watched out the window, taking in the sights. She did what she could to avoid looking at Kent because he gave her butterflies. She’d had them one time before, back in high school, when she had a crush on a boy. He was nice to her, and they studied together, but their relationship went no further. Palmer dated a classmate from one of her accounting classes for a year after they graduated, but the feelings she had then were not the same as those she felt around Kent. There was something about him that exuded self-confidence and kindheartedness, and it didn’t hurt that he was sexy. Being near him gave Palmer hope everything would be okay.
When she saw the sign for Hyannis, she told Kent a story. “When I was little, we’d get asked these questions about what we wanted for our futures, and I remember I’d seen a documentary about the Kennedys and how they were this perfect family marred by tragic events, and their escape was Hyannis. I thought this was a magical place,” she said as she looked around the busy town. “But the traffic is so heavy, unlike Chatham or the towns we drove through yesterday. Do you think people flock here because of the Kennedys?”
“Could be,” he said. “I suppose if people as influential as the Kennedys paint something as idyllic, others will flock to it.”
“The power of a name,” she mumbled. “Do you want to stop here?”
“I don’t have a reason to,” he told her.
“All right, let’s keep driving.”
They made it through the hectic roundabout in Hyannis and continued toward the bridge. Palmer took Kent’s phone and snapped a few pictures. “Have you loaded any more photos to that site?” she asked him.
“One from Plymouth,” he said. “And I’ll load one or two from Chatham. If you look through the photo album, you’ll see one I took of the town. It’s pretty neat.”
“I don’t want to go through your phone.”
“I have nothing to hide from you, Palmer.”
How could those words send a zing through her body? They shouldn’t, and she needed to shut her feelings off. Palmer was afraid she was going to blurt out how Kent made her feel, and that wouldn’t be fair to him. She had an expiration date. Palmer set the phone down and glanced out the window to hide the tears in her eyes. She wanted to forget she was dying, but the tumor wouldn’t let her. She could see it in her mind, gnarly, mean, and with tentacles pushing deeper into her brain. It was going to cut her off from life as she knew it, strip her of her memories, decimate her motor functions, and destroy her humanity. Palmer was going to change from someone who could do things for herself to someone who would have to depend on a man she barely knew yet was certain she was falling in love with.
