Page 147 of Encounter

“W-What’s up?” I asked, unable to stand the silence anymore.

When he closed the door behind him and stood in front of it, shifting on his feet, I noticed the thick folder in his hands.

“I umm—” His eyes wandered all over the floor as he tried to speak. “I was going to send this to you, but I figured it’s better to give it in person, so...”Dad made two long steps toward me and handed me the folder, still barely meeting my gaze. I gulped, trying to hide the way my hands trembled, and accepted the files.

As I opened it and started shuffling through the papers, he spoke again, “These are all the files I didn’t get rid of or couldn't bear to part with of your mother’s. I, um... I shouldn’t have kept them from you. I’m sorry.”

Dad’s voice only sounded as a faint echo in my mind when it hit me—I didn’t even try to process the fact he apologized to me. What I was holding in my hands was everything I ever wanted—information about her. Actual, concrete evidence she ever existed, besides in other people’s words and some barely-there memories.

“Th-this magazine has some of her articles. It’s in Mandarin, but you are learning, so I suppose you’ll be able to read it soon,” he said, pointing.

Holding back a shaky breath, I continued through the stack, moving the Chinese magazine aside only to be hit with some laminated photos that took the same breath away from me and shot tears into my eyes.

I delicately touched her face on the picture, mesmerized.

He said he threw it all away. That there was nothing left of her, because she left us. She left us and so we had to move on, not dwell on the past, but the truth was he did hold onto her. The folder seemed worn, used.

I looked up at Dad all teary, with lips parted as I released a deep, trembling sigh, but he stared at the floor. Still—I saw shame in his eyes, and something else. Pain, maybe. Regret?

Maybe he didn’t want to keep her from me. Maybe he didn’t want to let go at all, but forgetting and acting like she was never there was the only way for him to cope. The realization that Dad had feelings this whole time, locked and hidden from me so meticulously, made my chest tighten.

After all, looking at me every day must have reminded him of her enough.

We stayed quiet for a while, perhaps longer than would have been comfortable any other time.

As I sniffled and rubbed my nose, attempting to prevent my emotions from getting out of hand, Dad sharply cleared his throat and adjusted his jacket. “There should be a little information about her family, I think. Probably enough to, um... Well, I’m sure he has acquaintances who can find people with less,” he noted in a mildly bitter tone. “If you want to, that is.”

Gregory definitely could.If he has the time once Mia and the baby come home from the hospital.

I closed the folder, leaving any further investigation of it to the safe and comforting confines of my new home. “Thanks Dad, I... I don’t really know what to—”

“No need to,” he said, now more restrained again, and just as he was in the door, I remembered.

“Wait! I almost forgot I wanted to... wanted to ask you something.” My voice still trembled, and so did my knees as I quickly jumped up. Dad took a moment to turn back to me. “The therapist I’ve been seeing since I got out, Doctor Jackson, he— I was wondering if you would be open to coming to a few sessions with me, t-to talk about... things.”

Dad widened his eyes briefly and blinked a few times before letting out a deep sigh, making me even more nervous. “I suppose something like that’s... long overdue.”

“I know you’re busy, so... I don’t know if y-you could do Wednesday afternoon or—”

“Wednesday should work. I’ll put it in my calendar.” The ease and speed at which he gave his answer gave me whiplash, and I had to shake my head to make sure I wasn’t hearing things. He was already with his back to me and reaching for the door handle when he looked over his shoulder. Our eyes met, and his were strangely soft, apologetic. “Send me the time and address, I’ll clear my schedule if necessary.”

Giving me a nod and a brief, faint smile, he slowly closed the door behind him, but not before murmuring, “Your mother would have been proud.”

I stood there in disbelief, heart overflowing with joy and tears running down my cheeks.Pressing the folder against my chest, I reminded myself to keep it together, and to save it all for later. I had a long day ahead of me. Unpacking most of mine and Chast’s belongings, making sure the piano survives the transport into the loft... And putting the picture of Mom I saw right above it, next to the photo of Chast and Lydy.

“They’re nearly ready, Galen!” Dad shouted from the ground floor.

Right. Let’s get this done.

?

“I’ll go and get it,” Chast announced energetically as soon as he stopped the van outside of the apartment, ready to run up and pick up the last few boxes.

I worried about him a little—all day running up and down, moving, packing and carrying heavy loads.Iwas exhausted, so he must have been, too.

“Let me help you,” I blurted, shutting the car doors and running after him. I wanted one last look at the apartment, even though it couldn’t have meant nearly as much to me as it did to him. Still—I had spent probably the happiest few months since I could remember there, getting close to him, feeling safe.At least until the Yakuza incident.

“You know I ain’t disabled, right?” Chast turned to me with a sour expression as we walked up the stairs, making me chuckle.

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