That Time We Discovered Dad Was a Lying, Cheating Nudist
On a wild weekend away from home, my sister and I met our father’s very young, very naked girlfriend…and learned how keeping secrets can slowly tear a family apart.
Illustrations by Jenn Liv
The weekend we learned about keeping secrets Dad was almost 33, and naked. The woman with him was naked too. Her breasts were chalk-white with long red nipples, and Dad’s penis was purple. We watched them from the center of a pond, tangled in ropey lily pad stems. The pond was carpeted in silt so slippery it sent shivers up my spine.
Earlier that day, Mom had dropped my big sister Sarah and me off. Dad met us at the end of a dirt road, kissed Mom, (they were still married then), said he missed her too, and sent her off. Dad was running a farm that summer. Though he’d never seen a cow up close before, he’d convinced the owner he could milk and feed a warm barn-full of lovely brown-eyed heifers.
Growing up, we witnessed our mother slowly disengage from our father’s confusing fits and starts of commitment. Our mother dodged his certitude, avoiding useless, unwinnable arguments in the spirit of self-preservation, and hoped we were smart enough to tune him out like s…