Page 43 of Free Heart
He’s not wrong, but he’s not right either. This is just a hard time. When we get through it, I’ll let him put his dick in me again, and his tongue—and whatever else he wants. I just can’t handle it right now.
I feel guilty about that.
As for Dan’s part, he’s notangryabout his invalid state. He’s not hostile like I know some people can be after a life-changing—temporary or permanent—accident. But after findingout yesterday that he isn’t healed up enough for a moonboot, he’s become despondent.
Impatience radiates from him. The hollowness in his eyes is hard to take, and when I ask him to talk with me about what he’s feeling, he says, “It’s nothing you can do anything about.”
Shuddering, I remember the blank look on his face when I kissed his cheek to leave for the day. I again wrack my mind for an answer. But it’s useless.
He’s helpless. I’m helpless.
The hospital bills have only just begun to come in and already they’re snowing us under. I’ve made call after call to MediCal, to the hospital, and to patient caseworkers on Dan’s behalf over the last few weeks. Dan’s called for himself too, though he’s still in a great deal of pain, and trying to make it through one of those phone calls with a MediCal caseworker is tantamount to torture for him. Because of that, I try to do what I can for him.
Last night, I finally told him about the GoFundMe. To my surprise, he didn’t push back about it at all. He’d simply frowned, opened his mouth like he was going to fight it, but then sighed and nodded. “Tell them all thanks.”
His acceptance is a relief. I don’t want the worry about money to weigh him down even more than his pain and the inability to climb—or, hell, even pee by himself—does already. I want him to focus on healing and on escaping whatever demon has its claws in his mind. Because he’s nothing like the Dan I knew from before…
I take a deep breath and admit to myself something I’ve been avoiding consciously acknowledging. I’m nothing like the Sejin I was before either. I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes, and there’s no one I can talk to about it.
As I turn onto the road that eventually ends in Tater Tot’s parking lot, I run through the relatively short list of my potential confidants.
Leenie is always so hard on Dan. She thinks this is all his fault—and itis—and that I shouldn’t be going out of my way to make things easier for him. She’s glad he didn’t die, and she’s figured out that I love him and I’m not leaving him, but she’s still pretty mad at Dan for putting me in this position.
As for Rye…
Well, he’s doing the best he can for us, and if I complain about all the things I’m struggling with, I worry he’ll think I’m asking him for more.
Same for my dad. He’s been great to call and check on me, always asking about Dan’s progress. He’s been so supportive, and that money he sent? It wasn’t pocket change to him. Plus, he keeps telling me to put necessities and gas, or whatever I want, on the credit card he gave me. I can’t ask him to listen to me gripe too. No way, knowing what he went through with Mom… Especially when this is only a broken leg. It’s not terminal, for fuck’s sake. It’s just inconvenient and expensive and slow to heal. I can’t complain to my dad about that.
Martin’s always been good to me, but he’s not exactly the confidant type.
Lowell is a good listener, and he’d probably understand what I’m going through, but he seems to be having a kind of mid-life crisis from what I can tell and what little Rye has told me.
Peggy Jo’s an option, but I don’t want her to worry about Dan. She should enjoy being with her granddaughter. She’ll want to help, and she shouldn’t feel obligated.
So, yeah, I’ve assessed my options correctly. It’s all on me.
I’ve got to be strong and stay upbeat for Dan. I’ll suck it up and do my best to get everything done and make sure everything is paid. Or as paid as possible.
Yesterday, the grocery store was a sad trip. I hadn’t been able to afford much. I hope Heather gives me a check today for last week’s hours. I could really use the cash. Maybe I can fit in someplumbing work with Martin, and we can get enough groceries that I won’t skip breakfast in favor of waiting to see if I can score a stale cinnamon roll at Papa Bear to save a few bucks.
I haven’t even told Dan about that…
As I cruise into the parking lot, I consider what I own of value. I have a ring my mother left to me, something she suggested I give to a person I love one day even if it means resetting the diamond into a man’s band. No way in hell am I going to pawn that.
I’ve got so little. I didn’t bring much of anything from West Virginia, and I haven’t bought much while crashing on Martin and Leenie’s couch.
Maybe I should consider selling my car. We can get by in Dan’s van, as awkward as it is to drive around town. My eyes prick with tears as I consider giving up the car that got me from West Virginia to here and has been my loyal companion through thick and thin.
I still have a few minutes before I need to go in and be cheerful for the kids, so I use my phone to look up the value of my Versus and am pitifully relieved to find my car isn’t worth much, so…what’s the benefit of selling it really?
I feel tied to Dan, and I’m committed to him, but I don’t want to mix our lives so thoroughly yet. I deserve a way out even if I don’t plan to take it. That way out is a car of my own.
The sky is thick with dark clouds as I step out and peer up at it. It’ll rain later. My hair really isn’t going to dry out today.Ugh.
I sigh, shaking out my hands. I need to breathe through this. I know how to deal with stress. I coped when Mom died—mostly—and I’ll cope now. Dan’s broken leg isn’t the end of the world, even if it feels like it most days lately.
I put on a smile, fake and cheery, trying to find the real Sejin somewhere inside. These are heavy thoughts for me. I like tokeep life light, to focus on the bright side. And the bright side is huge—Dan is alive! His leg will heal!
