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)
“Greg is too hip for me with his lingo.”
“Don’t I know it. I’m thankful all the new recruits are in the know—otherwise I’d feel like an old man when someone says something. I swear, every day, there’s a new word we have to learn.”
“My favorite is when the meaning of a random word becomes sarcastic.”
“Like, whatever,” he said as he rolled his eyes.
“Exactly.”
“Or when ‘-est’ is added to everything.”
Palmer cackled and bumped her shoulder with his. “You’re the hippest, coolest, and most awesomest guy I know.”
Kent blushed. “I like you too, Palmer.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Kent sat in the chair beside the bed and watched Palmer struggle through a restless sleep. In the middle of the night, she’d had a seizure, one she wasn’t even aware of, but he was. As soon as he saw her eye twitch, he fully expected the outcome.
They’d been sitting around the fireplace with Greg, who had taken a break from his night clerk duties to talk to them. It was late, and Palmer should’ve been in bed, but she’d had such an amazing day, and Kent didn’t want it to end. When he saw the first twitch, he waited for her to say something, but she rubbed her eye and continued talking to Greg. After the second twitch, Kent asked her if she had any pain anywhere, and while she said no, her eyelid convulsed multiple times. He rushed to her side, checked her pulse as an automatic response, and told Greg he didn’t need to call for an ambulance, even though he wanted to.
Kent carried Palmer to their room, much to her protest. He didn’t want her falling down and hitting her head if this twitch turned into a grand mal seizure. When they got back to their room, he administered her meds and told her to get into bed. He hadn’t meant to be snippy, but that was how he sounded.
All night, he watched her for any signs the anticonvulsant he gave her wasn’t working. The convulsing in Palmer’s eye had stopped, but he could tell she was in pain. Mentally, Kent was beating himself up. He knew better than to agree to more activities earlier, and they should’ve returned to the hotel after the cemetery. That trip was emotional, and while he appreciated Palmer’s efforts, he needed to be the adult and say no.
Kent got up and paced the room. Palmer had insisted on keeping the curtains open so she could see the skyline at night. He stared out the window and prayed they’d have a few more days before they’d need to head back to San Francisco. Kent pulled up his calendar and looked at the date. If he were home, he’d be working, and he decided to text Damian to check in.
Damian: Where are you? How’s it going?
Kent: We’re in DC. Things were good up until tonight. She had a seizure.
Damian: Do you think it’s time to come back?
Kent shrugged as he looked at the message. This wasn’t a decision he could make on his own. Sure, her health was declining every day, but Palmer was a fighter. She worked through the daily pain, made things humorous, and tried hard to have a good time. She had a list of things to do, and he’d told her he’d help her get them done . . . until he couldn’t.
Kent: I don’t know. This is the first episode. I know there’s more to come but to end her trip abruptly . . .
Damian: Well, you’re missed around here. My new partner isn’t as much fun and never stocks the rig.
Kent: LOL. I see that you only miss me for my stellar stocking skills. Chat more later it’s late here.
Kent pocketed his phone and rested against the window. Palmer was sound asleep, for the most part. Along with the anticonvulsant he’d given her earlier, he also gave her some heavy-duty pain meds to help her sleep through the night. And in the morning, they’d leave. He wanted to get as much done as possible before they were forced to head home. He’d promised her as much.
In the morning they were going to leave and drive over five hundred miles to Louisville, Kentucky, on what most travel guides called the Loneliest Road. He hoped that whoever it was that Palmer had emailed about being related would email her back along the drive. If anything, Kent wanted her to meet at least one family member before it was too late.
While Palmer slept, Kent packed. He wanted to load the Jeep before she woke, mostly because she would fight him on leaving early. He had already canceled their added day when Greg called to check on Palmer. Kent felt the small seizure was a sign—they needed to get on the road and get their stuff done before it was too late.