Page 82 of Free Heart
“But, frankly, I’ve been keeping an eye on that GoFundMe, and I really feel like we could move the needle on it significantly with a little help from the kids.”
She lays out her plan—a Christmas show with a nice entrance fee for each ticket, the full proceeds of which will go to Dan’s medical fund.
“We can add on a silent auction of the kids’ artwork too. We already have everything we need,” she says, ticking it off on her fingers. “Costumes and decorations… Anything we don’t have, the kids, Evelyn, and I can make during art hour. Plus, we have Sejin as director and choreographer.”
I blink at her. “I don’t think I have the time for—”
“Sure, you do,” Dan says. “I’m allowed to walk around a little now. I don’t need you hovering over me at home. You can work on this instead of babying me.”
I bite my lip and consider. It’s been seven weeks of constantly caring for Dan, and he’s right that he’s finally at a place where I don’t need to worry about him so much. Still, doesn’t that also mean he’s at a place where our time together can return to something more fun and romantic? Like what we had before he got hurt?
“You should do it,” Dan says with the same confidence he’s always had when insisting I should learn more Korean. “The kids love you. You love the kids. You haven’t gotten to do anything fun for yourself in a while now. You just have them do the same old dances over and over these days, and I know you’re bored with them. It’ll be fun, and Heather’s right. Those cute little tadpoles will reel in a whole sea of spectators.”
“You’re not against accepting charity from their families?”
Dan shakes his head. “Nope. I’m a huge fan of money these days. Call me a capitalist convert.”
It’s my turn to snort, and he grins at me.
“Seriously, though, can you honestly say you don’t want to do it?” he asks.
Ican’tsay that. The thought of seeing the kids dressed as Christmas trees and candy canes and snowpeople while singing and dancing for their parents has my heart pumping a little faster.
The time investment is daunting, but Dan’s right that I don’t need to focus so much on him now. I can tell Martin’s boss that I’m only able to help on Sundays now, and only for emergency plumbing issues. For those, I get to charge two times as much and get twice as much take-home pay.
If I do this Christmas fundraiser, I know I can put together an adorable show. The parents will love it. They’ll take photos and videos, and not only will they donate to Dan’s medical bills, butI’llhelp shape a core memory for their families. A good memory. A sweet one.
And what is it Moonbin and the other members of Astro sing about in our song?
Good memories stay forever.
“Alright,” I agree. “Let’s do it.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Dan
The first dayI’m cleared for a “hike”—quotations intended in every conceivable way—I have to work to pull Sejin from the cute choreo he’s been working on. It’s to a KPop bop called “Christmas Love”—a confetti burst of a song full of holiday joy performed by Jimin, a member of BTS.
Earlier in the day I’d texted Lowell to scope out Lower Yosemite Falls Trail for me. His verdict is, despite the overnight snow, it’s been well-salted and most of the way to the Falls is still clear.
I’ve been weight-bearing for a few weeks. I’m making sure and steady progress, though I walk with a heavy limp these days, which the doctor swears will work itself out over time. So long as I don’t fall, I’m told that using my leg more often and for more challenging work is imperative to healing now.
But the caution I see in Sejin’s eyes as our car approaches the parking lot at the trailhead is enough to make me second-guess my designs for the day. I don’t want him to be anxious and uncomfortable. Not for this. In all my planning—and I’ve done a lot of it while cooped up alone in the house—I’ve always imagined he would be exuberant and exultant to see me up, out, and walking again.
Instead, as he parks, he frowns at the snow, the sidewalks, and even at me.
I’ve never been one to back down, though. So, I put aside his worries and my former expectations, determined to forge on.
Sejin gets out of the car first, heading over to double-check Lowell’s assessment of the pavement. Hands stuffed in his coat pockets, he marches around, testing the safety of the path. He’s beautiful, as always, but I wish he were in a lighter mood. Still, in the mid-morning sun, it’s evident to me that the winter-frosted trailhead is even more clear than I’d hoped. A good omen.
Unwilling to wait any longer, I get out of the car and Sejin comes to hover. He takes my arm to steady me, though I don’t really need his help.
“You can’t keep coddling me like this, Doc,” I tell him.
“I can, and I will.” He stays right by my side until I’m safely on the paved path. There we pause for a moment, and I tilt my head back, looking up at the sky. It’s cloudy, and snow-heavy, a swirl of gray moving through the white with the stiff breeze. I take in the swaying snowy trees and watch as two squirrels squabble over a few nuts beneath one of the great pines.
I’m going to do this. I really am.
