A canary yellow pickup truck was parked in the gravel driveway. Motor hummed. Headlights turned off. The radio tuned to a country station. Barbara Mandrell  sang about sleeping single in a double bed. Mistakes made. William Sr. laughed at the lyrics to this song. Thinking over things I wish I’d said, the blonde kept singing through the tinny speaker.  The father of five pulled out a bottle of Wild Turkey from the glove box and opened it. Took a swig. Hummed along some more. Now I’m the one sleeping all alone. He took another swig.

The house light was on. Mosquitoes danced around it along with moths. William staggered his way to the porch and sat on the concrete step. He didn’t think about his children or his wife. Didn’t think about the farm which was unkempt, weeds growing, soybeans dead, cornstalks brown. The farm his father left him was now falling apart. The house, too. Shingles missing. Porch posts knocked sideways. Busted boards. That was just the outside. Inside, his wife tried to keep up with the cleaning, but with five kids, daily tasks had taken a backseat to cooking and correcting unruly children. Diapers changed, and bottles warmed on the stove. She did not breastfeed. William said those were for him. He’d laugh and go out into the night. Leaving her behind to cope.

He laid there on the cool concrete. Watched the insects frolic in the summer’s heat. Laughed out loud, sat up, and leaned his back against the screen door. Calling out her name. Jackie. Come on, girl. Open up. Daddy’s come to see you. Drunken babble was now full-on screaming. Open up this door, woman. I’ll huff. And I’ll puff. And I’ll blow your house down, he laughed. Come on now. Open up.

Shhh. She said. Be quiet now. She giggled. William. Get up off your ass and get in here. She opened the screen door. Two drunk fools holding each other while waltzing into the front room. Breaths smelling like turpentine. Clothes came off, exposing the short redheads curvy body and his slight paunch. 

They didn’t bother to go upstairs to her bedroom. A worn-in couch suited them just fine.

The sun came through the windows shining a light on their naked bodies curled up together like a dog, and it’s owner. William began to get dressed. Noticed the bottle sitting on the coffee table  with a spider left in it. He drank down the half shot and laughed.

Where you going? Jackie asked.

Got to get home.

I’m going out tonight with my girlfriends. She stood and placed her short arms around him. 

You mean going out to get men, William said.

There’s always better prospects.