I pull another cobweb covered box down from the shelf in the attic. Holding back a cough as the dust floats towards me and up my nose. I know it had to be in here somewhere.

I rifle through old drawings of mine from when to was a kid and elementary school report cards but still not finding what I’m looking for.

I reach the bottom of the box and find a bundle of letters, tied together with twine. I can see the top letter is made out to Harriet Johnson, my mom.

This is not what I’m looking for but honestly I don’t think finding my old class picture is worth the torture of sifting through the boxes in the attic anymore.

Closing up the box and admitting defeat I bring the bundle of letters down the rickety attic ladder with me and back to the my old room that I’m staying in over the holidays while visiting my mom while on college break. This will be the first Christmas todether since we lost Dad and I know how hard it must be for her to be alone.

Sitting down on the edge of my bed I take the first letter out of the stack and open it, finding tidy cursive script written in neat lines across the page. I scan down to the bottom and see that this was written by my dad. The sign off reads, “With Love, Steven”

I start at the top of the letter to read through the whole thing. This might be a nice surprise to bring to mom on Christmas to help her feel close to dad again.

I pause when I get to the line, “I met a woman in San Francisco Harriet. Her name is Audrey and we went out for dinner together twice now. She is beautiful with long curly red hair, she works at the firm with me. I think we will be pursuing our relationship further.”

That was that. He went on to start talking about mundane life and asking how mom is doing, as if he didn’t just drop that he was cheating. Or was he? Maybe mom and dad were friends before they started dating maybe they weren’t together yet.

I quickly opened the next letter and began scanning the page for any signs of their relationship status at this point in time. I check the date but I don’t honestly know the year my parents started dating and I’m a little too frantic right now to remember the year they got married. This next letter didn’t have much substance. Just talking about the books he’s reading and how his boss is being frustrating.

Tossing that letter to the side I open the next letter. About halfway down the page I start reading,“I miss you Harriet. I feel like we never get to see each other what with me traveling back and forth to San Francisco for work, but I want to assure you that I think about you all of the time. Especially like how you like to lick—“

I stop right there. I will not be reading my late father’s sex letters. I draw the line there. I skip over the next couple of paragraphs but on the next page something jumps out at me. I see the name Audrey again.

“When I’m here the only consolation is that I get to see Audrey. I talk about you to her all of the time. She is excited to meet you some day. I told her you’re not a fan of flying so she’ll have to come out and visit us. I think you’ll really like her. When I sleep at her place she has this cat named Simon that crawls into bed between is to keep us company. I think you’d really like Simon too.”

I set the letters down and let that sink in. My parents were together and my father was openly cheating on my mom with another woman. I start to back track through my whole life, thinking about my father’s regular business trips to his firm’s sister office in San Francisco. Was he living with a woman named Audrey the whole time? How long did this last? The questions start spiraling and I can’t make them stop.

I flip to a letter dated not long after I was born and scan the page for her name.

“How’s our sweet precious girl doing? I miss her so much. I’m so sorry I had to leave so soon but I’ll be home in a few days. While I’m here I’m showing Audry all of Kayla’s pictures. She thinks she looks just like you. She wants to come back out this way again soon so she can meet Kayla in person.”

I threw the rest of the letters to the ground. My breaths starting to come fast. This other woman knew who I was. My dad was cheating on my mother even after I was born and she was just okay with it? I could feel my heart breaking, my father had betrayed me from beyond the grave. The most loveable, kind, perfect man in the whole world couldn’t even keep it in his pants weeks after having a newborn daughter.

The bed I sat in started to feel too comfortable, I couldn’t be so comfortable and feel this much pain. I laid on the hardwood floor, feeling the hard planks cut into my shoulder blades. That felt more akin to the turmoil I was feeling inside. How could he do this to my mom? What else didn’t I know? How could he do this to ME?

I felt tears start flowing from my eyes and could feel the plunk as they fell to the ground next to my head.

This is how my mom finds me when she comes to tell me dinner is ready.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” She rushes in to the room. She grabs onto the desk to help lower her aging knees to the ground to be next to me.

I don’t know if I want to talk about this, but I also don’t want my mom to be worried about me.

“I found the letters dad wrote. I know he was a cheater.”

My mom runs her hand through my hair in the comforting way that only a mother can do.

“Kayla. Honey. Your dad didn’t cheat on me.”

My mom is still in denial. Even if he never had sex with her he mentioned they slept in the same bed together. She knew. It was in the letter. She must’ve read it.

My mom asks, “What years were those letter from? He used to always write me letters when he went away on business and more often than not he was back before the letters even got to me but they always felt so special to know he took the time to write them. I’m glad you found these.” She says starting to pick up the letter that are scattered around the room. She holds one up and starts reading it to herself. When she is done she clutched the letter to her chest. A single tear slides down her face and over the soft smile she has from remembering dad.

When I see she is done I answer her question, “I read a couple from right around when I was born” I am still sniffing and trying to hold back my tears.

“So that probably would have been Audrey he was talking about, right?”

“Yes…” I reply. Hoping she’ll give some more details to why she is acting so casually about this.

“Do you want me to explain? I don’t mind, but I need you to know this doesn’t change who your father was as a person or who I am.”

I don’t know if I like where this is going but I nod that I’d like to know more.

“Well, Audrey was your father’s first girlfriend after him and I got married. Lovely woman, I can’t quite remember why they broke up. I met her a few times throughout the years they were together.”

She looks down at me and smiles.

“Some people have a lot of love to give, honey. Just because he loved Audrey didn’t mean he loved you and I any less. Same goes for any other girlfriend he had over the years.”

I was shocked. “He had other girlfriends?”

“Yes, your father and I were not monogamous. We were each others primary relationships, we had a family and but we also dated outside of our marriage. Occasionally one of us even fell in love outside of our marriage, but we maintained our commitment to each other too. Our marriage and you always took priority for us. That’s why we never told you. We didn’t want you to feel different or like we didn’t care about the family we built together. Some people just have a lot of love to give.”

I took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Do you mind if I skip dinner tonight? I feel like that’s a lot to digest.” I ask mom politely.

“Of course honey, I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge for when you’re ready.”

That was a lot to process. My parents regularly cheated on each other. I guess I shouldn’t say they cheated if they knew about it, but what else could I think?

Loving someone should be a commitment between you and them, just the two of you.

I roll over on to my side on the ground and see a family picture of the three of us. All happy

Could it really be true? Could you have a happy committed family and still see other people? If I went my whole life not knowing and only knowing my family as the most caring loving family I knew did it really matter?

Could we all really have lots of love to give?