Page 120 of Free Heart
“I know. And on Christmas.”
We both laugh with the wet, harsh sound of those who’ve had to embrace painfully dark humor to cope.
“When Ivan died,” Peggy Jo says, as she turns to the woodpile and starts choosing logs. “I thought I’d never get past the pain, never be able to say goodbye to his things. If it hadn’t been for Bella—and later, Dan—I’d have wanted to just fall down on the floor and disappear into nothing.”
I can relate. I’d felt the same when Mom died.
“But life is relentless. It comes and picks you up, puts you on your feet, and you say goodbye to that coat, that hat, that life. It’s a little at a time, but finally the world you shared with that person seems like another universe and a whole other version of yourself.”
I touch my engagement ring with the pad of my thumb. I don’t want another version of myself without Dan.
Peggy Jo’s loaded up, and I also start to take on logs.
“This piece too,” she says, pointing to a log after she has her arms full.
I add it to the stack in my arms, and together we head toward the back door of the house. Dan or my dad will see us through the windows and let us inside.
We both smile at them when they see us, and as my father gets up from the sofa inside and starts toward the door, Peggy Jo says, “Sometimes I think we’re all free soloing our own personal Heart Route, Sejin. Doing the best we can with enormous consequences if we fuck it up. It’s called living.”
The door swings open and the heat from the house pours out over me along with the affection in Dad and Dan’s smiles.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Dan
Eleven weeks since free solo attempt
The week betweenChristmas and New Year’s Eve I spend my time doing the “rehab” work that Lowell and I have designed and having van sex with Sejin.
I’ve also been on the receiving end of my fill of family time. Having never had a real family before, I’m ready for them all to get back to their normally scheduled programming.
Peggy Jo and Buck have been around constantly—since she lives here and all—and he’s staying on her “pull-out couch,” which Sejin and I still have seen absolutely no evidence of.
So much for honesty between me and my fake mom.
Leenie and Martin have totally taken advantage of Buck’s visit to drop their kids off for several hours a day while they do other things. By other things, I mean that Martin is working a ton, and Leenie is refurbishing their second bathroom, which leaves her covered in paint flecks and wallpaper glue when she comes to pick up the kids.
Jeremiah remains obsessed with the climbing wall in the garage, especially since Santa didn’t deliver one for his own house. He’s very bitter about that. So, I’m getting a lot of time in as a pseudo-uncle, or cousin, or whatever it is that Sejin’s tiny family members see me as.
Today, though, I’m alone.
Sejin’s taking Buck and Peggy Jo to the airport. We already said our goodbyes before they left. With the pseudo-grandparents leaving, Leenie’s got her kids back where theybelong—in her strong arms and likely at Papa Bear making someone who isn’t Sejin deliver refills of apple slices.
Even though I’m glad not to be holed up in bed, or trapped on the sofa anymore, I’m getting a little tired of bouldering in Peggy Jo’s garage. It’s stuffy when I turn the electric heater on so that I don’t freeze out here, and the chalk dust in the air makes my throat thick.
I desperately want to get out into the sweet-smelling swaths of Yosemite before I get too antsy and start to lose my mind again. I haven’t had any intrusive memories of my mother or my rotten childhood in a few weeks, and I’d like to keep it that way.
Though, I did reach out to Henry a few days ago with a request that undoubtedly surprised him. He got back to me after only a few hours and said he’d find out what he could. So, now I have to wait to see if he can make it happen.
I sit down on the mat, gazing up at the difficult bouldering route I’ve chosen to work today, and rub at my leg. I try not to touch the place down lower on my shin where I can feel the hardware because it weirds me out.
The bone aches a lot as it heals. Sometimes it puts my teeth on edge. I know it’s a matter of time until the pain is gone, save for rainy day aches, but it’s annoying that it still lingers.
Whenever I complain, Sejin flicks his hair out of eyes and gives me a look. I know what it means—bitch, shut up; you’re lucky as hell.
I am. He’s right. And not just because I survived.
My leg is healing like I’ve been eating bone-mending powder for breakfast. My doctor is blown away by my rapid improvement and quick recovery. He’s given me the all-clear for February to start climbing for real—so long as I’m roped up.
