Add to that, the imminent loss of one boob, or both, and…
What could he possibly see in her that was worth him sticking around?
“Hey. I thought I had you back from la-la land,” he teased. “Are you still lost in your head?”
“Yeah. That’s the way I roll. Always tapping out.” Lace didn’t give any apologies. “I can be here one minute, and gone the next.”
So far, he hadn’t seemed to mind.
“Have you been doing this all your life?” he asked, showing true interest that amazed her, since it wouldn’t have been easy to fake.
“Yup,” she admitted. “As a child, all the time. But as an adult,” she added wryly, “I’dthoughtI’d pretty much learned to control it, until I couldn’t. Untilchemo. Since I started my infusions,” she shrugged, “I seem to have reverted to old habits.”
Maybe spacing out washerversion of “chemo brain”.
Her daydreamshadcertainly become a lot more prevalent in the past month. It could just be Lace’s personal coping mechanism; disappearing into pleasant thoughts to mitigate her cancer fears, but whatever it was, it was back, big time.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Vince assured her, then wrinkled his nose. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with your concentration while you’re doing your job.”
He looked worried, as if he thought her flights of fancy might send her soaring overboard on invisible wings, and into the sea.
“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’m extra careful while I work. I promise. There’s a lot to concentrate on, what with the constant activity and the paperwork that accompanies it, so I don’t have much time to brain-wander.”
“That’s good,” he gruffed, then gave a chin lift as if signaling the end ofthatsubject. “So, what do you say? Are you ready to get ice cream?”
“Just try to stop me,” she told him with a grin.
Lace could almost taste the cold confection washing away the hospital tang that often lingered in her mouth after her infusions.
Lace opened her door and got out before Vince could make his way around the truck to help her.
As much as she liked his solicitousness, she didn’t want to appear infirm.
He seemed amused that she’d taken the initiative.
If he hung around, he’d have to get used to that. Lace definitely had a mind of her own.
They walked companionably toward the family stand.
The lines at the windows weren’t too long, and for that, Lace was thankful. Her mouth was already watering.
“You first,” Vincent said, placing a hand at the small of her back and urging her forward when it was their turn.
His touch sent shivers up and down her spine.
In a good way.
Averygood way.
“Uh, small chocolate lover’s chocolate with chocolate jimmies,” she managed to tell the young girl who was scooping, trying to ignore the heat of Vincent’s fingers.
“Cup or cone?” the girl asked indifferently, typing onto her order tablet.
“Cone, please.”
It might be messier than a cup, but Lace wasn’t going for optics here. She was already at a looks-deficit, so why start worrying now about a few potential dribbles.
“Cake, sugar, or waffle cone?” the girl questioned in the same bored tone.