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“Makes sense. I’m sure whoever gets that email will be happy to hear from you.”
She leaned into him, and Kent put his arm around her. He kissed the top of her head and sighed. “Thank you,” she said to him.
“For what?”
“For all of this. For being my friend.” He loved being her friend and possibly a bit more if he could muster up the courage to tell her.
“You don’t need to thank me, Palmer. You’re doing the same for me.”
“Have you heard whether the baby is yours?”
Kent shook his head. “You’ll be the first to know when I do.”
His phone vibrated in her hand, and she looked at it and then showed it to Kent. Not only was their food at the hotel, but they had a new comment on one of their posts. Kent clicked it and told her to read all the comments. In the short time they’d been on their trip, they’d amassed a following. Strangers from every corner of the world were interested in their journey, and some had even asked to see their faces.
“You have fans,” Kent told her. “They want to meet you.”
“Absolutely not,” she told him.
Kent chuckled. “Not physically. Social media makes things so easy these days. Let me go get our food, you hop into the bath, and then we’ll discuss it while we eat.” He kissed her forehead and lingered there longer than a friend would. How she had turned his bitter heart around in such a short time amazed him, but it also devastated him. He was going to lose her before they even had a chance to be more for each other.
TWENTY-THREE
There was a park near the hotel. Palmer had spotted it from their room after the sun rose and asked Kent if they could go. He agreed, even though he was tired. Kent would do anything she asked and could figure out his sleep schedule later.
They held hands as they walked through the park. They smelled the flowers, pointed at birds and wondered what kind they were, and sat on the bench to people watch. At a food cart, Kent bought them freshly squeezed lemonade and cookies to enjoy while they basked in the sun. It was a beautiful day with warmth and nature surrounding them.
Kent pulled out his phone and scrolled through their messages on Instagram. It seemed like overnight they had become some sort of sensation. They’d gone from a couple hundred followers to close to ten thousand. Their comments had tripled, and they had many messages waiting for them. Kent went through the notifications and clicked on one that mentioned their page name. A video played, and he recognized the clerk from the hotel.
“Y’all, I gotta tell you about this couple that came in while I ate dinner. I didn’t get a whole lot of details at first, but now I know more. Anyway, the guy checking in tells me they’re early for their reservation and that they’re in town because he and his partner are doing this bucket list thing. And I tell him I want to create a list. He tells me not to wait and then says his partner is dying because she has a tumor. After I got them their room, I started thinking about how short life can be, and here’s this couple trying to live their best life and make all these memories. And I just know this man is doing it so he can see his lady smile every day. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. Anyway, they have an account and I’m going to tag it below. I want you all to follow them on this journey. I know they’re not posting a lot, but each recap of the stops they’ve made is worth the read. If my man sees this, I got you for dinner tonight. Come see me in the lobby.”
The video ended and then restarted. “What was that?” Palmer asked.
“The clerk from last night,” Kent said. “Did you listen to what he said?”
Palmer nodded.
“I don’t think he meant any harm by telling people,” Kent said when he saw the look on her face. It was a cross between confusion and hurt, both of which she had the right to feel. It wasn’t lost on Kent that she’d told her former coworkers she’d taken another job because she didn’t want them to worry about her, and something like this could reach them. Not only that, but she was a private person—even before her diagnosis—and now her business was all over social media, and people were clamoring for information.
“I’m confused,” she said. Again, he understood.
“We can ignore it, or we can embrace it.”
“Embrace it how?”
Kent turned slightly to face her. “We can tell your story, Palmer. Despite the outcome, you’ve persevered and done something with your life. Others in foster care might not see the positives in front of them. You could give them hope.”
