KICK IT | JENLISA

129

Jennie

The sun seared my scalp, broken up by a light breeze that kissed my cheeks. Lisa's elbow bumped mine as we moved in tandem, lifting our arms and striking down. The dry, dense, and unforgiving soil caved under the tip of her shovel while mine made a one-inch dent.

"Show off." I whispered as I jumped onto my shovel. The handle wedged between my breasts as the head punctured deeper under my weight with a scrape of metal through raw, and untouched earth.

I levered the handle back and unearthed a full mound, which I tossed aside and smiled at the flashing cameras. Not to be outdone, Lisa jumped on hers and dumped a larger pile on mine.

Amongst smatterings of golf-polite applause, Lisa and I shared a brief kiss. Her thumb arced over my cheek, damp with the same tears streaming out of Irene's eyes. Not her fault. The woman cried at diaper commercials now.

Mino's parents were the only people who cried more than Irene. Beyond thrilled with an upcoming grandson, their gasping Facetime sobs were one of the last sounds I heard in Jackson's house.

The brightest blue sky, dotted with cotton puffs for clouds, surrounded the makeshift ceremony area. Too choked up myself, Lisa wrapped one arm around me and radiated excitement about her most recent charitable contribution. "The Taehyung Kim Centre for Veteran Rehabilitation was developed by people much smarter than me and inspired by someone stronger than me." Her hand pressed into my upper arm.

Lisa's words were humble, but her boundless heart touched every inch of the future space. Her securing a grant from the Defence department allowed for a state-of-the-art rehabilitation centre with a fitness centre, indoor pool, and one-room yoga studio. Smaller scale and quieter, the therapy space and day-care were equally as critical for mental rehabilitation as physical.

Lisa was dead serious the day she showed me the plans. After I recovered from our reconnection moments in the back of her truck, we dressed, ate her packed sandwiches, and talked until the night sky draped a blanket of stars overhead. And a month later, that conversation was as fresh as that night.

"I want to keep this as much as possible." I whispered to the open night sky. "It's so open, so big. I came here to breathe if that makes any sense."

A soft brush of her lips turned into calloused fingers intertwined with mine. "Makes sense."

I took a shuddered breath and squeezed her hand for strength. "This was Taehyung's dream, buy the property and grow old here. I lost so much of him, but... thank you."

Her answer was a simple smile. "You're welcome."

One of the most difficult moments with Lisa was when I introduced her to Taehyung through pictures. Once I pushed past my initial resistance, the admissions flowed as freely as my tears. I didn't have many personal items of Taehyung left, only pictures and imprints on my heart, but Lisa listened to the story behind each one. Recalling our shared memories was bittersweet, but they warmed my heart. Lisa absorbed every recall with a wistful and encouraging smile. Her listening shoulder showed that she also deserved a place in my heart. She held me when I cried, which was a lot, and kissed my forehead during the uglier moments.

"Thank you." she whispered, tipping her head down and staring into my eyes. "For letting me in."

That moment, her face etched with dark shadows and heat burning in her gaze, jump-started my heart. It retained the cracks from losing Taehyung but swelled bigger than I ever imagined. I couldn't thank her enough.

My admission, "Thank you for not letting me forget him." sounded odd to anyone outside our relationship bubble, but neither of us cared. Once I introduced Taehyung's memory, Lisa's upfront response was that she wasn't a replacement. Naming the rehab centre in Taehyung's honour solidified that he'd never be forgotten and offered hundreds of deserving souls a temporary place to regain their footing.