▪️Friday, December 11th - Saturday, December 12th, 2017▪️

▪️Chicago, IL▪️

"You know that ten is when you usually leave my place after we are done playing, not arrive to begin the night." Ben lets me into his apartment and closes the door behind me.

"Extenuating circumstances."

"Is it the dojang or something else? Missing a game night is unlike you."

The last one we missed was when he got the text from Am about her leaving for France. I thought we'd talk about what happened after I dropped her off at Ben's place, but Ben said exactly nothing on the topic, and I'm just relieved he's himself again. Because I need him and his brain if I'm going to do this.

"Huh, it's been. . ." I run my hand through my hair to dismantle my helmet-head. ". . .quite a week. And one of the things I need to talk to you about."

"Do you want to eat your half of the pizza while you talk?"

"You know, I do." I love Ben's pizzas from scratch. They are the best ones I've ever had and saying that in Chicago might get me banned from some restaurants.

I load a plate with three cold pieces of what looks like a Margarita and swallow a couple of bites, but my appetite is gone. I sit the plate back down. Pizza is not important. I need Ben on board, because if I am to do this, I need all the support I can get. The idea has taken over me on the ride to Ben's. I haven't had caffeine, but my blood is pounding in my ears, my hands shake, and I wish Ben's apartment had a longer hallway for me to sprint up and down. "Have you ever considered owning a dojang?"

"Never," says Ben. He takes a towel and wipes the one crumb I dropped on the otherwise gleaming countertop.

"Hold on. Let me put it this way." I stand in front of him and lift my hands as if words would magically appear between them. "Why can't we own a dojang?" I pause to see if he has an answer, but he waits for me to continue. I rub my hands together and charge. "We've spent most of our lives in one, we know the teaching, the business, the students already know us, I can run it just as I'm doing it right now, but I need an investor with capital."

"Are you asking me for money?"

"I don't need charity. It's an investment. We can be partners: I'll put in what I have and will run the place, and we can forgo my salary for a while and use it to renovate the place, put some upgrades in. I've already interviewed two excellent teachers that can join and take Master Chang's and my classes, and I've seen the books. The place is already making money, and if we implement some of the other ideas I have-we can make it even better. What d'you think?"

"I will need more than your word on the profitability, and I will have to look into the way places like the Academy make money, and what the rate of return will be. It's not a bad idea. When do you need the answer by?"

"Tomorrow. Nine a.m. Nancy's bringing a potential buyer who wants to make the place into a restaurant. We don't need to pony up the money tomorrow or anything, but I want to let her know we have an offer on the table. I know Master Chang will sell it to us if we promise to keep the place going."

"We have a lot of work to do. Finish up your food, and no "Call of Duty" for you tonight. We need to turn your idea into an offer neither Nancy nor Master Chang can say no to, yet one that can still make us money in the long run."

Around three a.m. we manage to get to a point we have our numbers and our speech ready. My head's a muddled cocktail of words and percentages, and by morning this brilliant proposal might turn into fucking gibberish, but this is a concrete plan and not a mere idea that I had before Ben got on board.

I remove the jacket from the hook in Ben's entry way. It takes me two tries to find the sleeve with my hand. I rub my eyes and ask Ben. "D'you have any coffee to keep me awake on the ride home?"

He takes my jacket and pushes me away from the door. "Your mom'll never forgive me if anything happens to you riding home when you're this exhausted. I'll make you a cup of Arabica. French press. But you'll have to wait till morning."

Ben's always the fucking voice of reason. I'm too sleepy to say anything, so I nod. And—although my feet are hanging off the edge of the couch in his second bedroom that serves a triple purpose of his office, a computer games heaven, and a guest room—I'm glad I'm staying over. Without Bruce Lee to watch me fall asleep, I pull Angie's latest photos, and set my phone on the charger so I can see her for the ten seconds I stay awake.

At seven, we are up. Ben's several inches shorter than me and at least fifty pounds lighter, so I can't borrow any of his clothes, that's why I have to wear yesterday's office outfit. Which is good—I look professional. Ben cleans up nicely as well in a suit I haven't seen him wear before.

I flip the tab on the door of the dojang to open. I'm glad I've persuaded Nancy to meet with us half an hour before the buyers show up, but it's eight thirty-five, and she's still not here. Ben's reading something on his phone. I'm pacing and starting to sweat when I hear steps outside. The door opens, but it's not Nancy I see. Master Chang. His gate is slow and measured.

"My boys." His accent is barely noticeable and is a familiar, comforting sound I've missed.

Ben and I bow and greet him in unison. Then we hug him-one at a time. Master Chang's never been a frail person, but today he is. Skinny, with dark circles under his eyes, and sunken cheeks, he looks a decade older than the last time he entered the dojang.

"Nancy tells me you want to talk about buying the Academy? Is that true?"

We nod, look at each other, and I start presenting the offer, as we've discussed.

"This is how much we can pay." Even with Ben putting 50% of the down-payment, my half of the contribution wipes all my savings, assuming we can get the loan for the rest, which Ben assured with his parents as guarantors, we won't have any problems with.

Going to a place where I have no financial security isn't the direction I was planning to follow. 'It's still forward, just a different path,' I keep telling my speeding pulse. "I'll take care of the day-to-day and hire office help. We're planning to close different areas and operate the dojang with a limited class schedule, while upgrading the facility over several months." Ben will cover that part of the expenses, so I don't have to worry about the money there, but the business part will be on me. What I've done as a temporary thing will be a permanent ongoing commitment, on top of my full-time job. My ability to do both was the hardest part to persuade Ben of.

I walk to the wall with the photos of all the black belts over the years, the competitions we won and lost, the kids' faces changing from pre-K to adults. My face. Ben's face. I look at it and make sure Master Chang and his daughter are following my gaze. "But the core and the spirit of the Academy will remain unchanged. We'd like to keep the name as well if you don't mind. It'll always be your place, even if we are the new owners."

Master Chang shuffles over to me. He places a hand on each of our shoulders. "Thank you, my boys. I didn't expect this." I hate how his hands are shaking. "Seeing you grow up in these walls has been my pleasure, and I want many more girls and boys to have a chance at learning the way to themselves." He repeats what I've just done: watches every photo, smiles at what I'm sure are so many memories this wall cannot possibly contain them all. "Courtesy. Integrity. Perseverance. Self-Control. Indomitable Spirit. You two have mastered them all." He approaches one of the display cases that holds fifty years of the dojang's history and nods, what seems like a yes to me. "I can trust you to pass these values to the next generation."

"Dad." Nancy's voice and eyebrows go up. "You're not selling it to them. The buyers will be here in ten minutes, and they are offering twenty percent more and—"

"No, Nancy, I've heard enough. Not everything in this life is about money. I have a duty and a legacy, and it's more important to me than dollars. You can apologize to your buyers and tell them we've found the new owners."

Ben hasn't uttered a word during this whole deal, but he stops rolling on the balls of his feet and gives me a thumbs up. I return his gesture and grin. My heart is no longer stuck in my throat. It bursts into hundreds of tiny hearts that pulse with joy, pride, and something else I can't quite identify. We did it. We fucking did it. We'll be the new owners of Chang's Taekwondo Academy.