Page 31 of Free Heart
My mind whirls. I think it’s not a terrible idea, but I also think that I have no idea how I can fit something like organizing this into my life when I’ve got two jobs, an invalid at home, enormous bills rolling in soon, and so much to arrange.
My chest tightens. My hands shake. I try to fan my face, but I’m getting too hot, and it’s hard to breathe.
“Sejin?” Heather asks. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know,” I reply. “I’m a little overwhelmed is all.”
That’s an understatement. I feel like I’m drowning, and I know we’ve only just begun.
“I’m sure you are,” Heather murmurs soothingly.
“I keep telling myself to take this one day at a time, but it’s hard. I mean, for Dan it’s like time has stopped, you know? He’s so bored and restless. He’s never been still for this long in his life, I don’t think. But for me, the time is slipping away, and I go to bed every day less sure than I was before about—” I take a shuddery breath. “About what I need to do next, what the future holds, and if we can afford it. I don’t know who to call. I keep calling the number the hospital gave me and then they pass meto the voicemail of someone who never calls me back, or if they do, they say I actually need to talk to Peyton or Mateo, but she’s on maternity leave, and he’s recently changed departments and hasn’t been replaced yet, so—”
“Sejin, slow down. It’s all right.” Heather comes around and squats next to my chair, taking hold of my hands. “Breathe. Shhh.”
Then she starts to hum one of the little tunes that she sings to quiet the children when they’re losing it over something. It also works on adults, apparently, because I start to breathe more easily, and my heart slows from racing to skipping.
“I’m sorry,” I say, embarrassed. “It’s not your problem, and I—”
“It’s my problem,” Heather says. “It’s anyone with a heart’s problem. We want to help.”
“I know you do. I just…there’s so much going on. So many moving pieces. I did a lot of this stuff for my dad when my mom was sick, but he helped out too, and now it’s all on me.”
“Dan can’t help with any of it?”
“He’s out of his mind on painkillers or napping or…” I trail off. There’s no reason I can’t ask Dan to help with some of the phone calls I’ve been making. It’s just…hell, I don’t want him to. Maybe I don’t even trust him to? I’m not sure. “He could help. I should ask for his help.”
Heather nods, her brows furrowed. “What you’ve been through, what you’vebothbeen through, is traumatic. You need to take your time with this. If you need a few more days off to—”
“No! I want to be here with the kids. At least if I’m here, I’ll be able to forget. I’ll have to smile, and dance, and be happy for them. I’ll be able to fake it until I make it, at least a little. Plus, we need the money. And I miss them.”
“They miss you too, obviously.” She motions at the stack of cards and papers. “Sorry about Jeanie’s art. I tried to talk her out of it, but she insisted you’d like it.”
“It’s certainly very Jeanie.”
“Yes.” Heather rises and goes back around to her seat. “So, what I hear you saying, Sejin, is that you don’t hate the idea of a fundraising performance with the kids, but things are too intense right now for you to plan it. Why don’t we table that for a month or so? Until you’ve got your head above water. Those bills won’t be going anywhere. Believe me, they’ll be hanging around for a long, long time to come.”
“Thanks, Heather,” I say.
“Take deep breaths. Be good to yourself. You’re healing too.”
“I will.”
Heather smiles and I stand up, gathering all my belongings and the cards.
“I’ll be here tomorrow, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.” I try to sound chipper, but it comes out so fake. So, so fake.
“You can be dull-eyed and flat-tailed, and I won’t care,” Heather says. “I mean it, Sejin. Take your time coming back.”
“I’ll be here,” I insist.
I tell Heather goodbye and duck my head into the main room for a moment to see all the kids in downward dog. None of them seem to be enjoying it.
I’ll fix them up tomorrow.
It’s good to know I can solve one problem at least.
*
