Bedroom Visits

When I was ten, I learned a secret my mother had carried for several years in silence to hold the family together. My father was unfaithful. Mother was beautiful and even when I was ten, I knew she gave him affection but he still sought other women.  
 
On my eleventh birthday, my father gave me pink silk pajamas. He asked me to try them on and told me I was beautiful. Later that same night he came into my bedroom.  
 
“How are those pajamas?”  
 
“They…they're fine,” I whispered as I was drawn from sleeping.  
 
“Do you like them?” he asked.  
 
“Yes.”
 
He sat on the edge of my bed and rubbed his left hand against my cheek. “I like the feel of silk.  It's smooth just like your skin.”  
 
His hand slid down to my neck, and he rubbed the silk that covered my shoulder.  
 
“Is momma up?” I asked.  
 
“Oh no, it’s only 3 am.”  
 
“Why are you up?”  
 
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “I had to be sure you were ok. I’ve been working so much and I miss seeing you.”  
 
I didn’t say anything because I knew what kept my dad busy and away from home.  
 
“Why don’t you come home more?” I asked.
 
He was quiet as his hand rubbed back and forth over my shoulder.  
 
“Life’s complicated,” he said. “But I love you.”  
 
“I love you, too,” I whispered feeling tears in my eyes.  
 
I thought he was about to leave but he bent down and whispered, “Can we keep this little visit a secret?”
 
“I guess.”  
 
As he said, “You’re such a good girl, Lauryn,” his left hand drifted from my shoulders to my chest and rested there warming me through my silk pajamas.  
 
I heard him breathing. In the glow of my nightlight, I could see that his eyes were closed.  
 
I saw other movement and looked down to see his right hand rubbing against himself. I was completely still and just watched his face. I felt sadness and guilt, knowing my mother was in the next room.
 
After another couple of minutes I heard a soft, low hum followed by one a little higher and louder. After a few more seconds, he opened his eyes and looked away when his eyes met mine. He stared at the wall next to my bed for a minute then he bent down and kissed my lips. "You're beautiful," he said, and then he walked softly away.  
 
There would be other visits to my bedroom by my father over the next year until he left my mother. Most of those visits were put in a dark corner of my mind where they sat quietly until my therapist help me find them.