Page 45 of Free Fall #1

Sejin

I n bed with Dan the first night at Peggy Jo’s is a little strange.

The sheets smell different from the ones in the van or the ones I’m accustomed to at Martin and Leenie’s, but I suppose I can get another brand of detergent and wash everything I use if it bothers me.

Which I’m not sure it does. It’s just different.

Another oddity is how I feel after playing house with Dan all afternoon post-fuck over the sofa—which, holy shit, how does sex with Dan keep on being so stupidly good?

I’d have thought we’d start hitting a rut by now, but I come for him like that’s what I’m put on this earth to do.

It’s ridiculous. But, yeah, after we’d showered and cleaned up our mess and then napped on the sofa to recover, we’d woken to three mad cats yowling for dinner.

Once I’d fed them, Dan and I got wildly domestic.

We made dinner together and watched a TV show.

We built a fire in the woodstove. We chatted and rubbed each other’s feet, and we cuddled.

We brushed our teeth next to each other at the vanity sink in the bathroom, and we climbed into the queen-sized bed in Peggy Jo’s bedroom with a series of yawns and goodnight pecks on the lips.

It feels right. Like we’ve shared space like this a thousand times before. I mean, I’ve slept over in his van, but it’s hardly the same thing. It always feels so temporary, so much like a break from reality for me, as if when I climb into his van I’m stepping outside of time.

Today in Peggy Jo’s house, though, it’s more like a vision of what could be. A future that I don’t know if I have the guts to hope for, but I want to try for anyway. But how? Dan’s a climber, and I’m an overemployed-but-broke prodigal son with no real life plan.

I might be terrified of Dan’s willingness to risk so much, but at least he has a goal. One that could earn money if he were willing to take on sponsorships.

I turn onto my side and watch him sleep in the light of the nearly full moon pouring in from the crack in the curtains. I wonder about the possibility of a future for us. A real one. With a home. And little rituals. A way of being that’s us .

I start to list all the things that would have to happen for a dream like that to come true:

I’d need a real job.

Dan would need an income.

We’d have to find a house we both liked.

We’d have to want the same things from life.

Dan would have to survive his Heart Route free solo.

My eyes fill with tears. It’s amazing how much hinges on that.

Only everything.

*

Dan

Waking up in a soft bed in a big room, with the scent of coffee and the sound of bouncy KPop drifting in from a full kitchen is new. I wallow in the warm covers, listening to the sounds of breakfast being made, and smile up at the ceiling.

I can imagine Sejin in there, moving around Peggy Jo’s kitchen, hair up in a messy bun, and his cute little ass wiggling to the music. He’ll probably occasionally break out into the choreo for whatever song is playing. Something by Astro probably.

I could get used to this , I decide. And that thought is underscored in gold when I suddenly smell bacon frying.

“Merowrrrr.” I hear it a mere half-beat before a small, furry demon pounces onto the bed and hisses in my face, showing me his terrifying fangs, and then darts off out of the room through the slightly open door.

“Devil,” I mutter, rubbing a hand over my sleep-crusted eyes and trying to still my now wildly beating heart.

“You’re up,” Sejin says cheerfully when I come out to join him in the kitchen, after I’ve taken a leak, shaved, and brushed away the morning breath. He gives me a long up-down, and I feel my cock stir. How does he do that? Make me want him with just a sly grin and a coy look? “You look sexy.”

I look down at myself. The night before I’d been reluctant to go out to the van and rummage for a clean t-shirt and boxers to sleep in, so Sejin had pulled out some things from his own luggage for me to wear.

They aren’t anything more than a pair of soft athletic shorts and a t-shirt, but they smell like him and that’s nice.

“Mmph,” I say. I’m not really a morning person like he is. I don’t take forever to get out of bed or drag ass, but I do sort of hate to be cheerful in the morning. That’s more of an afternoon mentality. Or maybe nighttime.

After considering my taciturn personality…

Maybe never.

“Sit,” he says, pointing to the table where I’ve shared many a meal with Peggy Jo. I pull out a chair and a cat scampers off all offended like I moved it just to irritate him.

Sejin bends down to stroke the angry cat and whisper something to him.

I narrow my eyes, looking for any sign that the little horror might bite Sejin.

These cats have been known to pretend to want my attention, only to strike when I actually do reach out to pet them.

But Romeo—Julio? Muggs?—simply rubs against Sejin’s fingers and then twines around his ankles like it’s his job to trip Sejin.

So that’s his diabolical plan.

“You’re really suspicious of these cats, huh?” Sejin says, as he turns back to the bacon, eggs, and toast he’s assembling on plates for us.

“They’re suspicious of me too,” I point out.

Sejin snorts but doesn’t say more. Though I do notice he drops some eggs to the floor and the two cats that have come to watch him cook dive for the bits. Aha, he bribes them, huh? I could try that, but it seems beneath my dignity. Plus… cats .

We’ve just started eating when Sejin’s phone pings.

I figure it’s another VLive alert for one of his KPop bands, and we’ll eat breakfast watching people speak Korean, and we’ll enjoy it though we have no idea what’s going on.

But, instead, Sejin seems surprised by what’s on the screen, and then he starts to type quickly with his thumbs.

A ping, ping, ping of back-and-forth texting begins. I eat my breakfast and leave him to it.

“My dad,” Sejin says after a few minutes, finally putting his phone aside. “He’s curious what the plans are for Thanksgiving this year. I’d promised to spend it with him, and he’s…” Sejin blinks and shakes his head. “He’s offered to fly out here instead of me flying home to him.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. I usually like the holidays back home, but I haven’t been back to West Virginia since I left…”

There’s a lot of weight behind those words, and I know there’s a lot Sejin isn’t saying about that. I sip my coffee and ask, “Do you want to go home for Thanksgiving?”

“I don’t know.” He picks at his food. “I hate the thought of walking back into that house knowing she’ll never be there.”

“So long as you don’t go home then she can still be there in your mind?”

“No,” he says quietly. “I know she’s gone.

I saw her body. I can’t call her on the phone when I need her.

I don’t have my mom in my life. It’s just…

I don’t want to look back like that. I don’t think she’d want me to.

She knew me. She knew I wanted to travel and move away, and live the kind of life where I’m not in one place forever.

Going back isn’t moving forward, you know? Not for me.”

“Mm.” I don’t have anything to say to that. I’m not the person to talk to about family stuff. Surprise trust fund money from biological grandfathers doesn’t count as having family.

“But I feel guilty too. Like, am I wrong to abandon Dad there with all the memories? Does that make me a bad kid?”

“Your dad’s a grown man. If he wants to leave West Virginia, he can. In fact, from what you just said, he’s suggesting he do just that.”

Sejin’s eyes widen and I point at him with my fork. “For Thanksgiving this year.”

“Yeah.”

“No rush. There’s over a month to decide.”

“He wants to plan ahead. He saw a good deal for plane tickets.”

“Mm.”

Sejin meets my eyes. “Would you, uh, would you want to meet him?”

“Your dad? Sure.” I shrug. “Why not? If I’m still around, that is.”

Sejin’s jaw flexes. “You better still be around. What kind of talk is that?”

I realize he thinks I’m referring to the Heart Route ascent. “No, I mean, I might head out of here for destinations unknown after I’ve sent Heart Route.” I sip coffee again and lean back in my chair. “I’ve been thinking about asking if you’d want to go with me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but heads up: I’ll basically have no money by then, and we’d live like nomads in the van.”

“I’ve been living on my cousin’s sofa,” Sejin says, quietly. “I can handle being with you in a van for a few months.”

“You think?” My heart leaps.

“Yeah. Of course.” Sejin frowns, the laugh lines by his lips deepening in the opposite direction.

“But what about Thanksgiving and my dad? Where will I be staying by then? Peggy Jo will be back, and I’ll be…

” Sejin shakes his head and the little wisps of hair that have fallen out of his messy bun dance around his face. “I’ll be where?”

“You just said it. You’ll be living in the van with me.”

Sejin pokes at his food. “I hope so.”

I tilt my head. “You just said you would be?”

“I know. It’s just…I wish he hadn’t asked right now, you know? I don’t want to go back to West Virginia, but I don’t want him to buy tickets to come out here if I’m going to be with you somewhere else. It’s bad timing.”

“We could stick around here.”

“Then where will Dad stay? In the van with us?”

“With your cousin? In an Airbnb? A hotel? The lodge? There are a lot of options.”

Sejin frowns and I don’t understand his worries. “Right. Yeah. Of course.”

I look at my watch. “I gotta go. I’m late for my training already.”

“Meeting someone?”

“Yeah. I’m supposed to pick Rye up from the campground, and he’s gonna belay today. I think I’m going to work the roof again. Gotta nail that down tight.”

Sejin pales and his dark eyes look luminous as he gazes up at me. He says nothing. I stand up and come around the table to kiss his forehead, then his nose, and then his lips. “I’ll see you later, Doc.”

“Later,” he says, a little tiredly.

“What’re your plans?” I ask.

“I took today off to get settled in here. Will you be coming back here tonight after your training?”

I should say no and return to my slot at the campground. But I push a wisp of hair off his forehead and say, “I’ll be back by dinner.”

Leaning close, I whisper in his ear, “Don’t tell anyone, but I think I love you.” Then I kiss his earlobe and turn to go.

I’m almost out the door, boots in hand to lace up on the porch, when Sejin says, “You can tell everyone, Danny. I know I love you.”

My throat goes tight, and my heart beats like a wild horse running in the valley. I should look back at him, but I don’t. I step out into the blue mist of morning, lace up my boots, and get in my camper van.

As I drive away, I whisper, “Doc, I know I love you too.”

I probably should have told him that to his face.

*

Sejin

“So, what did he say exactly?” Leenie asks, cradling her cup of tea and gazing over to where Papa Bear has set up a new play area for kids off to the side of the parking lot.

It may or may not have been inspired by her son, and it might have been my idea. We set it up with some old railroad ties, a couple of low-to-the-ground slack ropes, some tires to jump in and out of, a few low hammocks, and a wooden teeter-totter that Gage put together for us.

Pete loves it because it keeps the kids out of the cafe proper, and it draws more families in who spend loads of money on snacks and sweets while they suck down their coffee and let their kids romp. So now he loves me too. I’ve been on his good side ever since the new play area went in.

And today I’m just here as a guest. I’m not working at all for a change. It’s kind of nice.

“Dad said, and I quote, ‘I’d like to come out to see you for Thanksgiving instead of you flying home.’”

“Wow, that’s…I know you might not see it this way, but, Sejin, that’s actually great. It’s the first time your dad’s shown interest in doing anything new since your mom passed.”

“I know, but maybe I should face the house without her. Face it all without her.”

“Your mom wouldn’t want you to be sad, Sejin. It doesn’t honor her to go back there and pick through her stuff and feel miserable. That’s what your dad’s been doing, so I’m relieved to hear that Uncle Buck is ready to do something adventurous.”

“What if he thinks he has to come out here? Because I won’t come home?”

“What if he wants to get the hell out of that house before the darkness of the holiday season and all its memories consume him?” Leenie counters.

“What if he comes out here and he doesn’t want to go back?”

“What if ?” She lifts a pointed brow. “You’ve been running away from her death, just like he’s been wallowing in it. This is a good thing for both of you. Tell him to come. Tell him he can stay with me and Martin—”

“On the sofa?”

“We’ll have a blow-up bed by then.”

“He can stay at a hotel or an Airbnb.”

“Sejin…”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t overthink this. Just be your sunshiny self and let this happen. Don’t fight him. Tell him you’re excited he’s coming. Tell him you can’t wait to show him your new life and for him to meet your new friends.” She snarls slightly. “Even Dan, I guess.”

I chuckle. “You’re so hard on Dan.”

“He hasn’t shown me yet why I shouldn’t be.”

“Ah, Leenie, stop. He’s just not that kind of guy.”

“What? The good kind?”

I roll my eyes. “He’s definitely a good person. He’s just not charming…or personable. Or the kind of guy to have an office job or a regular income.”

“He must really blow your mind in other ways because I just don’t get it.”

“It’s okay,” I say, and I mean it. “You don’t have to.”

I don’t share with her that Dan’s offered to take me off in his van as soon as he’s sent Heart Route. I don’t tell her how much I want to go with him.

“Sejinie!” Jeremiah yells from where he’s hanging by his knees from the hammock. “Look at me!”

“I see you, buddy!”

“I’m cool, right?”

“You’re always cool!”

He grins proudly and then does a backflip off that makes Leenie gasp, but he lands on his little knees and then claps for himself.

“Daredevil,” Leenie whispers. “Gonna give me a heart attack one day. Just you wait.”

I can relate all too well. I smile thinking of Dan. I have a daredevil of my own.

And he thinks he loves me.

I know he does.