Robyn
My mother refused to talk about Tammy Duncan, just as she always refused to talk about anything hard or difficult. She was like a child putting her hands over her ears, shutting out anything she didn’t want to deal with.
I was left with a big, ugly, unanswered question. Had my father had an affair with this Duncan woman? Because my mother’s big, ugly reaction seemed to point in that direction. Everything in me wanted to deny it. My dad wasn’t a cheater. My dad was as straight and narrow as they came. I couldn’t imagine him indulging in an extramarital affair any more than I could accept the fact that he had committed suicide.
But I had to stop and consider if I wasn’t looking at my father through the rose-colored glasses of a child who had always been Daddy’s Girl. Was it
