breakfast in bethel, maine d.e. fredd He’s eating breakfast. It’s 6:15. He chews slowly. Some men bolt their food. Lloyd leisurely packs his mouth with scrambled egg, bacon, home fries and a piece of toast. He’s like one of those trash trucks. The man fills up the back, pulls a lever and a mechanical arm swings down sweeping the debris into a hidden compartment. Lloyd stuffs his face then spends the next five minutes mashing it into a pulpy mess. A swig of coffee rinses the loose particles. He’s has to leave for Rumford by 7:00. At 7:30 the Job Lots van loads up the laborers and takes them to the day’s site. If you miss the van, you don’t work that day. When I hurry him he takes his time to spite me so I don’t say anything. Even if he does leave by 7:00, he sometimes is back by eight. Traffic slowed him up or god damned foreigners filled the quota. He might as well head on down to the Brew Barn to see if any contractors show up for lunch so he can brown nose his way into a job. He usually takes fifteen from the grocery kitty for expenses. Lloyd always has a beer after breakfast. It settles his stomach. The kids are in the living room watching the local news, waiting for the Today Show. We used to have cable, but the box was illegal and got taken away. There was a fine, but Lloyd said he would rot in hell before he paid it. He rigged up an antenna so we get Portland and Bangor. Allison is seven, Melissa is two years older. It’s 6:45 and he wants another beer, make it a Bud Light, he says. I know he’s not going to make it to work today so I calm down. No sense stressing myself. I bring him both a can and the bottle. I got smacked one time because one kind of beer tastes better canned while another is best from a bottle. I can never keep it straight so I bring both and let him pick. He grabs the bottle with one hand and sweeps his other arm around my waist. “I need me some lovin’ this morning,” he says. When it’s the school year I can do what he wants because the kids leave by 6:30. It’s August so I tell the girls to go to their room. Lloyd and I sleep on the pull out sofa. Allison complains because the Today Show is going to interview Brittany and debut her new hit. I swat her behind and she bawls her head off. Missy takes her hand and walks her into the room. I hear her say it won’t be long. They can play Candy Land. I pull out the sofa bed and toss an old sheet on it. We get naked. He drains his beer and is on me. He’s done in a few minutes. The TV sound is off. Al Roker is finishing up the weather. There’s a huge smiley-face sun taking up the entire east coast with a few lightning bolts over New England. Lloyd looks silly because he’s still wearing his socks. His arms are behind his head watching the set. He wants me to turn up the sound. I tell him it’s not fair to the girls. He slaps my bare ass playfully and tells me he’s decided to take the day off. “Maybe we’ll gas up the truck and head up to the Richardson Lake for some suntan and pizza. Teach the girls to swim.” He’s saying that to be nice because he knows how behind in everything we are. Also, he wants me to go down on him. He reaches for the clicker, turns the sound up a few notches and then pushes my head towards his crotch. Out of the corner of my eye I see the girls’ door inch open. I want to say something, but he’s getting all worked up and has me hand-pinned onto him. I figure the girls will know sooner or later what’s in store for them so I ignore then and go about business. I remember we’re out of groceries except for store brand corn flakes which everybody hates. If I can talk him out of the picnic I can see if Connor’s Market will trust me until next week. But once he tells the girls about the trip it’ll be three against one. He comes with a yelp and squeezes my ass. One time he claimed I bit him and palm smacked me, rupturing an eardrum. He grabs my panties, wipes himself and gets dressed. While I’m getting a robe back on, he says the truck is making a noise in the rear; it might be a bearing. He thinks he’ll run over to Sandy’s and have him check it. It might take a while. The picnic is off, but I suspected it never was going to happen anyway. He takes his keys. I want to ask him to get milk for the cereal to feed the kids for lunch and dinner, but then he’ll tell me he hasn’t any money. I know he has a little, but he wants it for some of Sandy’s weed. He pulls up my robe open for one last feel and then is out the door. He toots the horn as he makes a plume of dust down the drive. There are a few minutes of silence and the girls, like scared fawns, come back to the living room. Melissa asks if daddy is going to take us to Richardson’s. I say he will if he gets back in time from fixing the truck. They shrug and go to the sofa-bed which I just slid back together. I turn up the sound. Katie Couric is introducing Brittany. Allison is bouncing on her knees, hands over her ears. It’s her funny way of showing excitement. Melissa is eying my panties which Lloyd tossed next to the lopsided Lazy-boy he rescued from the land fill. I go over, pick them up and head for the bathroom so I can wash him out of me. Melissa grabs the clicker and blasts Brittany. Allison protests and they begin to fight. I close the bathroom door and start the water. One of them is crying.