Fractured [SHAWN MENDES]

~59~

As the memory faded, Taryn found herself sobbing into the ugly shirt that still smelled faintly of cigarettes. If she'd reached out to him, would he have worn it? What would it have been like to hug him again? She felt Shawn's arms wrap around her and hold her tightly as she cried.

"Let it out, baby. This is good," he soothed. He knew this moment would eventually come, and he was relieved that she was finally allowing herself to grieve.

"I-I am so mad at myself," she choked out. "I really fucked up. He wanted to see me before he died and I ignored him! I used to think he was the worst father ever for deserting me, but I'm the worst daughter for not letting him come back. It hurts so much to know that I probably made his last days much more terrible than they should have been!"

He gently turned her around so that she was facing him. "Taryn, you had no idea that he was sick. He should have said so in that letter, because then you would have responded quickly. It's not your fault that his time ran out before you got back to him."

"Then whose fault is it?"

"Sometimes things happen and no one is to blame. They just happen. You can't let the 'what if's' take over, because they will destroy you. Believe me...I spent a year hating myself for what I'd done while constantly thinking 'what if I hadn't pushed the car?' The thing is, once you've done something, there's no undoing it and you have to more forward."

She nodded, knowing that he was right, but it didn't make her feel any less remorseful. "This shirt is the only thing I want to keep from his clothes. I remember it and that makes it special. Can we put it with his urn?"

"Of course. Let me put them both away and then you should take a break for lunch. You don't have to go through everything right now," he said as he pulled her even tighter against him.

Taryn felt a little better once the urn was out of sight, but she couldn't stop thinking about her dad. As they ate some boxed mac and cheese, it occurred to her that she knew nothing about the man who helped create her. "It makes me sad to think that he had no one at the end. He was in Ottawa, which was where he was from, but I guess since he wasn't close to his family, they weren't around. Although, it's possible he didn't have anyone left."

"You didn't know your grandparents?" Shawn asked.

"No. They basically disowned him after his second or third arrest, according to my mom. Scott said that I was his closest remaining relative, so I'm assuming they are dead. He had a sister, but she died in a car crash when I was little. That was the only time I saw my daddy cry. He couldn't go to her funeral, though, because of how things were with his parents."

"He probably had some extended family, like cousins. Maybe they were there to give him comfort."

She knew he was trying to suggest a less depressing scenario to help her, but it did the opposite. "I should have been there," she whispered. "I just want to go through the last box and crawl into bed."

When Shawn and Taryn first grew close after he'd told her what had happened on that fateful night, he'd seen her as an anchor while he was flailing out at sea. Now he realized that she'd been dealt terrible blows by life, and they were still coming at her. He needed to be her anchor.

"I'm going to help you do that," he said as he cleared their dishes from the counter island.

They moved to the dining room and she looked at the unopened box that was labeled, "Personal effects of Fordham Patrick/Dennis."

"Are you ready to open it?" Shawn asked.

"Can you?"

He nodded and removed the tape before lifting up the flaps on the box. He pulled each thing out, one by one. There was a wallet, a flip phone, an ancient laptop and charging cable, and a stack of papers. "Should we plug in the computer and see if it starts up?"

"Sure," she said as she browsed the paperwork, which amounted to his rental agreement, a copy of his car title, and some other receipts that didn't seem worth keeping.

She knew that Scott Pierce had probably taken any bank related papers as part of the discovery process. Next she opened his wallet. There were no credit cards, because they were also probably being used by the law firm, but her father's drivers license was in one of the slots. She pulled it out and looked at his photo. The license had been issued in 2022, so this was probably pretty close to what he'd looked like at the end of his life. He was similar to the man she knew as a child, though his face was leaner, and he had deep lines across his forehead. His hair was exactly as she remembered, just gray. She touched the tiny image and smiled, thankful that she had a photo. There was a small amount of cash that the lawyers must not have felt was consequential enough to keep for escrow, but tucked behind the bills were photos. Photos of her. He had all of her school pictures from the time she entered public school to when he left. They were tattered and worn, like maybe he'd pulled them out and looked at them often.

"You were a cute kid," Shawn said as he looked over her shoulder. "Love the pigtails."

"My Mama always made sure I looked pretty on picture day. She'd save up to buy me a new dress."

Next, they opened the laptop, only to be met with a prompt for a password. Taryn stared at the screen and then tried the six digits that somehow made sense. Magically, her birthdate unlocked the computer.

"How did you know that?" he asked in astonishment.

"Since he carried my photos with him, it just felt right."

She opened the web browser and saw he was still logged into Facebook. Out of curiosity, she went to the search feature on the social network, and her name came up as recently searched. He must have been keeping tabs on her. Why hadn't he just sent her a friend request? That could have been a great first start. She made a mental note to post a message on his account later that he had passed away, though he was only friends with half a dozen people. Maybe she'd tag herself so that any family members could contact her, if they wanted.

She closed the browser and opened up his documents. There wasn't much there, but there was a folder labeled "Taryn." She clicked it and found a bunch of files. She started with the first, which was a letter he'd written her seven years ago. All of the files were letters, though he'd only sent the second to last one. The very last file was dated just two weeks before his death. With a shaking hand, she hovered over it and opened it.

Dear Taryn,

I don't think I'll have a chance to write to you again. My nurse said I'm going to start palliative care, which means they are going to zonk me out so that I don't feel pain. I'm actually looking forward to that.

Who knows if you'll ever see this, but I left instructions with the lawyers to give you all my things. I need to remember to remove the password so you can get on this. There's not much for you to see, but I want you to find the letters I never sent so that you'll know I meant it when I said I never stopped thinking about you.

I do not blame you for not getting in touch with me. I am a bastard of a father and you certainly don't owe me anything. It's probably best you never saw me this way. Cancer is a bitch, kiddo. I hope to God you aren't a smoker so that you are spared this hell.

You're going to inherit a little money from me, and I hope you can put it to good use. I know you've been in school, which makes me proud.

I love you, T.

Daddy

"Honey?" Shawn asked as he tried to read Taryn's reaction to the letter.

"He wasn't mad that I didn't respond to him," she said softly.

"He obviously understood. Do you feel a little better now?"

"I don't know. I'm emotionally exhausted, and kind of overwhelmed. I think this is going to take time to process."

Together they repackaged the second box and put it in the closet with the other things.