The yard comes into view and I pull my truck to the side, next to the other guy’s vehicles. Shifting the truck in park, I also realize that this is the last week we’ll be working together, and I’m sure that is part of the reason for my sour mood too.
Walking over to my crew, I lift my chin at my foreman when I arrive.
“You ready for today?” he asks.
“How many poles do we gotta set?”
“We need six holes dug and then we’ll set these six framed poles, I’d like to get to ten, but let’s go for six,” he states.
“Fuck, yeah, let’s dig ‘em and set ‘em,” I grunt.
We load up, me and Rylan in my bucket, the foreman in his truck, and then the class-B lineman in his. The job site is about thirty minutes away, so we head toward it in a convoy, the foreman leading the way in his pickup truck.
It’s going to be a busy day, but that’s exactly what I need to keep my mind off of the woman that has been consuming my thoughts every second since I met her. I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to imagine her curvy body naked and on display for me. Inhaling a deep breath, I try to forget the way she smelled, the way her dark hair felt between my fingers.
Fuck.
I need to get laid again. I need to fuck Exeter off of my mind.
“You don’t wanna tell me, that’s cool, cousin. Just sayin’ you can talk to me if you want. I won’t call you a pussy assed bitch or nothin’,” Rylan drawls.
Turning my head quickly, my eyes narrow on his. He is smiling at me, a shit-eating grin on his face, the fucker is trying to goad me.
“Fuck you,” I snarl.
“Thanks, but got someone to do that for me and I ain’t in to incest,” he chuckles.
I can’t help myself, a laugh of my own bubbles out of my throat. “You’re a fucker,” I say between laughs.
“At least I got that awful fucking scowl off your face,” he points out.
I sigh, deciding to push Exeter from my mind. I can’t have any distractions when I’m thirty-four feet in the air with nothing but my bucket truck and the truck stabilizing outriggers as my anchor.
I have to be on my A-game, especially when working with electricity, one fuck up and you die, at the minimum, you blow your fucking arm off.
EXETER
MawMaw watches me. I love my grandma, I always have. Her home was my saving grace when I turned sixteen. The day of my abortion, I ran here for comfort, for love and support. MawMaw took one look at me and refused to allow me to go back home to my father—if you can call him that.
My mother was MawMaw’s daughter, she died when I was just a little girl, unfortunately, that left me alone with the man who made me, the abusive man. A whole family of perverts, born and bred into a life of disgust.
My cousin Emily and I have borne the brunt of their depravity. I was lucky to get out when I did, Emily wasn’t and she’s suffered mentally for it over the years.
Even now as she moves toward adulthood, including her relationship with a man two times her age in town, a man who happens to be MawMaw’s next door neighbor, Jacob. A man that I think abuses her in much of the same ways her own father has.
“Where’s Emily?” I ask as I wipe off the countertop.
There are breadcrumbs from breakfast toast littering the cheap Formica.
MawMaw lifts her hand, waving me off. “That girl is wild, she was throwin’ a hissy fit about me askin’ her to take me to the store,” she sighs.
Emily’s been living with me the past year but spends so much time over here that this is her second home, especially if I’m working a late shift. If she’s not home, then she’s here and more lately than not, she’s next door.
“She still stayin’ out late, runnin’ around town?” I chance asking.
MawMaw shakes her head. “Fool girl. If only I could keep her here. She’s eighteen now, I know she ain’t right, child.”
I close my eyes for a brief moment. No, Emily is assuredly not right. I can see all of the signs. She’s more withdrawn than she’s ever been, and though I haven’t told MawMaw about Jacob, I’ve seen evidence of his abuse of her body. Bruises that she tries to hide, and she’s lost a considerable amount of weight. I just don’t know how to help her.
I’ve finally got her away from her daddy, the day she turned eighteen I moved her in with me, but I don’t work regular hours and I can’t keep watch of her all times of the day and night. Plus, she’s eighteen, almost nineteen, I couldn’t keep ahold of her even if I wanted to. All I can do is be there for her, just be there.
“You need to go to the grocers?” I ask, changing the subject.
“I’m fixin’ to make gumbo for church this weekend,” she announces as her explanation.
“Well come on, now. I’ll take you,” I smile.
MawMaw stands to her feet, then she makes her way toward me and I hold my breath when she reaches out. She tucks a piece of my dark hair behind my ear, her eyes kind and soft as she looks down at me.
“You’re a good girl, Exeter. You girls didn’t deserve the lives you were dealt, but darlin’ child, you’ve really come out on top. I just wish you’d see your worth.” She smiles.
Her words fill my chest, almost to bursting, and I wish that I could take them in and believe them the way that she desperately wants me to. I want to believe that I’m good, that I’ve come out on top, but my sins weigh too heavily on my shoulders. I will never be forgiven for the acts that I’ve committed.
“You ready for the store?” I ask brightly, refusing to respond to her words.
She shakes her head, obviously annoyed with me. That’s okay, I don’t mind being annoying, especially when it comes to avoidance.
I leave the house, heading down the walkway to start the car and get the AC running when I catch a glimpse of Emily walking up the side of Jacob’s house. Deciding that I need to speak to her, to at least try to talk her out of going inside, unknowing of what truly waits for her on the other side of his door, but knowing, deep in my bones that whatever it is, it’s really bad.
“Emily,” I hiss.
She stops, turning around to face me and I grimace at the sight of obvious fingertip bruises around her slim neck. Her eyes are what scare me the most, they’re completely dead.
Though, I know her father killed the light in them years ago, just as mine did. Just weeks ago there was still a little shine left deep down inside of her, but that’s completely extinguished and my heart aches at the thought.
“Come home, don’t go,” I quietly beg.
She shakes her head a couple of times, then looks behind her at the house before she brings her gaze back to mine. “He is the best thing I’ve ever had,” she states flatly.
“You don’t know what a good man is, Emily. Come to counseling with me, get some help,” I plead.
I’ve been going to a counselor for the past two years, I’m not sure if it’s doing anything for me. My guilt hasn’t lessened, and I’ve yet to ever find myself feeling anything but disgusting. I’ve also not allowed myself to even think about getting into a real relationship.
“You wouldn’t know what to do with a good man if one fell on top of you,” she snorts.