Page 4 of A Family Affair: The Cabin
I’m in love with another woman. Her name is Miriam and I met her shortly after Ellie died when I started coming to the cabin every month. Ellie’s death made me realize a lot of things, especially my own mortality and the fleetingness of life. Miriam and I have been together fourteen years and we share a child named Lily. Yes, I really did just write that. Lily is pure and innocent and when I’m in Magdalena, I’m alive. Really alive. It’s my life in Chicago that has become the lie, but it’s been a lie since long before I met Miriam.
What I’m about to write is a deep, painful secret I’ve kept hidden for years. I’m telling you now because I need your help with Christine. This secret destroyed my marriage even though it took years to acknowledge it. Gloria had an affair before Christine was born. I can see the shock on your face, probably as great as mine was. Shortly after I learned of the affair, she found out she was pregnant. I moved out of the bedroom, distanced myself, and planned to divorce her if the child didn’t look like me. But there’s no denying Christine is a Blacksworth from the hair to the eyes. For that, I am grateful.
I loved Gloria but I was so immersed in work and reaching the goals Dad set for me that I didn’t take time to be a good husband. I didn’t know how to be one. Something shriveled inside me when I found out about the affair and once Christine was born, my hope and love went into her. Gloria will not take this easily but I AM leaving. I plan to move to Magdalena and will visit Chicago four days a month to conduct business. I’m stepping down as CEO of the company and would like you to consider a larger role. You have a lot of talent but you get in your own way.
Maybe one day you can visit Magdalena. I think you’d like it. The people are a good, honest bunch. I’d like you to meet Miriam and my daughter, Lily, and I would love for Christine to meet them one day, too, but how would that ever happen? It will have to remain an unfulfilled wish.
You’ve never been one to judge—thank you for that. I’m going to need all the help and support I can get and I know I can count on you. I’ll be home in a few days and we’ll discuss this in greater detail.
Charlie
My sweet Lily:
Do you know how much Daddy loves you??
I love you…
more than three scoops of cherry chip ice cream.
more than Mom’s banana nut bread.
more than snow angels on a starry night.
more than ten flannel shirts!
more than my fuzzy slippers and you know how I love those!
more than our walks in the woods.
more than sitting by the Christmas tree drinking hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows.
Bundle all of these together and I love you MORE!!
You make my heart smile every time I look at you. You’re growing up, Lily girl, and next month we’ll drive to the stables and check out the horses. Your birthday will be here before we know it and what happens when you turn 14? You’re going to ride a horse!!
I’ll have to get extra film for my camera so I can take a lot of pictures. Do you think 10 rolls will be enough? When we’re together again, we’ll count the days until your birthday and your very first horse ride!!
I’m sending you a big hug—bigger than the whole state of New York.
Love,
Dad
Nate placeda kiss on the top of her head, and whispered, “Are you sure you want me to keep going?”
“Yes, let’s just get through this.”
Dear Miriam:
I am writing this letter to you from the cabin. I needed clarity and if I were surrounded by you and Lily, I might never put pen to these words and they very much need to be written. You, of anyone, know the struggles I’ve battled for the past fourteen years. I should have acted on what lived in my heart years ago, but I couldn’t. Fear and duty kept me prisoner. And let us not forget the weakness that owned my soul and rendered me incapable of making the difficult choice.
We never spoke of it, because what good would it have done other than to remind us of my life in Chicago—a life without you and Lily? Do you know how much I missed you both when I was there? How I longed for Lily’s smile? Counted the days until we could spend a quiet evening together? Last month, Lily called me a king. “You are the king of our world,” she said. “You will never let anyone hurt us. Mr. King.” She’d smiled, so bright and pure, beaming with honesty and an admiration I did not deserve.
Lily’s words have given me the courage to write this letter. Our daughter will never be accepted into mainstream society as relevant or essential, but she possesses more wisdom than anyone I’ve ever met. You and I have spent the past fourteen years making a life out of four days a month. Imagine if that number were reversed—if I spent four days a month in Chicago and the rest in Magdalena with you and Lily? Could you tolerate me? I have dreamed this when I’ve permitted myself to do so, and what are dreams if we have no hope of turning them into reality? I want a life with you, Miriam, a real life, not a patchwork of days and “X’s” on a calendar and promises of “next time.” Nate won’t be happy about it. In fact, I expect he’ll try to interfere, but I’m hopeful he’ll change his mind about me when he realizes I’m here to stay. I don’t blame him for disliking me. He’s an honorable man who loves his family. Maybe one day he’ll find the right woman and start a family of his own.
I’ve written a letter to Gloria informing her of my plans. By the time I arrive in Chicago, she’ll have the news and knowing Gloria, the battle will have begun. What can she hope to win? More money? The house? She can have those. What she’s lost and what she’ll never have again is my heart. That belongs to you. I must go gently with Christine, and maybe one day she’ll understand and perhaps even accept my decision.
Divorce is never easy on a child and it’s more difficult when other parties instill venom and lies in the telling with disregard for the child, concerning themselves only with retribution, no matter the cost. My brother will help me with Christine and watch over her when I am in Magdalena. Harry is a good man with a kind heart who loves Christine as though she were his own.
