Addie. “He’s a fine example of a man. A woman could get good, healthy children off of him.” I giggled.
Addie snorted back at me and I repeated the phrase, pointing at him. I pulled her closer so she could get a better view. He put the maul down and headed toward the outhouse.
“Look at him, Addie. He is well-built: good shoulders, strong arms. Good-looking, too. For once, Granny would be right.”
Addie watched him till he disappeared behind the outhouse door. “Yep, she would be right about this one.”
Later, when we sat down to dinner, he ate quietly, all of his attention on his food. The lamplight made the slight cleft in his chin more apparent. He wiped his plate clean with the last of the corn bread as Addie and I cleared the serving bowls off the table.
Roy pulled a flask out of his back pocket. “You ladies mind?”
We shook our heads. He unscrewed the cap and took a long swallow, tilting his head back, exposing the movements of his throat.
When I came near the table where he sat smoking and drinking, I could smell the warm liquor on his breath and feel the heat of him. His situation grew darker and more dramatic the more he drank. By the time he finished the whiskey, he was railing against the mines, the unfriendliness of Jacksonville, and his sister-in-law. Even through my stupor of attraction, I could hear the bitterness in his voice. He caught my eye, tilted his shoulder my way when I passed by.
We let Roy sleep on the couch in the parlor. In the morning, he did not seem to be in much of a rush to leave. Addie and I discussed things and decided to offer him some money for his labor—not much, just two dollars, but it would have taken him pretty far back then. We worked him hard, dragging in some fresh-fall logs for firewood and replacing some boards on the back porch. In the afternoon, the three of us mucked the barn. All day I was aware of where he was and what he was doing.
After supper, when I returned from the outhouse, he stood on the back porch, his cigarette glowing in the dark. I passed him as I went up the steps and he pulled me toward him. His breath smelled of moonshine.
“Evelyn is a pretty name,” he said. “I’ve never known a girl named Evelyn.” He traced the line of my lower lip with his index finger, and I felt it all the way down my body. My hips curled involuntarily up and toward him.
“I can see it’s just the two of you out here all alone,” he whispered close to my face. Then he took my lower lip between his teeth and bit very gently, pressing his hips tight against me. I shuddered, and then pushed him away. It was too much, too fast.
Roy stumbled backward a step. “Go on then,” he said and patted me on the rear as I walked away from him. “I don’t need it no how.”
I rushed inside, trembling. Not from fear or anger, but from what I wanted to do.
“You all right?” Addie asked and took me by the wrist.
“I’m all right, but he’s getting pretty drunk. Did you show him where the whiskey was, the pints of shine Uncle Otis left us?”
“No, he must have found that on his own. I guess he figured we weren’t paying him enough. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get more than one.”
“Good. I’m going to bed,” I told her.
From where I lay trying to calm myself and sleep, I heard them—at first very faintly, then louder when they came inside into the parlor. The trace of his touch lingered on my lips.
I must have fallen asleep. I woke sometime later and reached across Addie’s side of the bed. My hand slid over cool, empty sheets. I heard some noises, faint voices, but no recognizable words. I tiptoed softly down the hall. The noises from the parlor became rhythmic as Addie’s voice rose in excitement. My heart jolted, then clattered in my chest till I could hardly hear. Numbly, I took the last steps up to the parlor door. Through a crack of the door, I saw the middle of Addie’s bare back, the curve of her behind, and, below her, the tops of Roy’s thick, open thighs. She moved up and down on him. I watched, my fist jammed into my mouth, the burn from my belly