Secrets, part three

Having left her house in a fit of anger and disgust at husband Ora’s behavior, Leta had taken refuge in their local blind pig to collect herself with a couple of drinks. She had ordered her first drink and then sat at a small table in the corner to be alone with her thoughts. As she was finishing, she was approached by a handsome and friendly man with slicked down hair and soft hands. Before she could truly grasp the situation, he had ordered her a refill and sat down opposite her.

He smiled, and they simply stared at each other for a few moments. Leta felt the impulse to touch his hands grow quickly inside her. Forgotten was her anger and frustration with her husband, her sadness that she had chosen such a companion and her dread of being in the same house with him. Instead, she had glided into the comforting and friendly gaze of this handsome  and obviously younger gentleman who had seen her sitting alone in the bar and wanted to speak with her. She felt a wave of ease rolling through her.

The reverie was broken by the the bartender, who brought their drinks. As he set them onto the table, he turned his face toward Leta and shared an expression  of complete bafflement.

“Here you go, Mrs. Freeman,” he said pointedly, and Leta paled with embarrassment.

“Thank you,” her companion said, and Leta felt even more torn. Her husband rarely thanked anyone.

But she had a husband, and the bartender knew him. The two of them visited the place together most of the time, and the server’s reminder jolted Leta back to herself. After the bartender returned to his post, her companion turned to her and said, “Nice fellow.”

Then he noted the expression on her face.

“Is there something wrong, miss?” he asked.

Her face barely masking the contortions that her thoughts and feelings were taken her mind through, Leta said quickly, “Sir, I am a married woman. I can’t talk to you like this. I’m sorry.”

Leaving her drink untouched, Leta rose and strode determinedly out the door.

She had only walked two blocks when emotion overtook her and she started to sob. What a wretched life she had chosen for herself. Out of what she could not determine. Need? Before she married Ora, even before she married her beloved late husband Al, she had been capable of eking out a living for herself and her children. The need for companionship? She had friends, relatives, company around her all the time. The need for intimacy? While it was true that Al’s lovemaking was passionate, varied and frequent, she was more than that, wasn’t she? And Ora had seemed so devoted after Al died. He took care of things. Why had he stopped? Why had she married him so impulsively? And how could she possibly get out of her current living situation?

While she and the children had a roof over their heads and food most of the time, there was still so much hardship in their lives. Ora’s infrequent work, his continual drinking, his refusal to permit Leta or the children from mentioning Al, his insistence that the children call him father, his adamant rejection of Leta’s offer to help support them.

Leta was miserable, and she didn’t know what to do.

Over the next three days, as her life continued on the same trajectory, Leta frequently found herself day-dreaming about the kind gentleman she had met so briefly at the blind pig.

To be continued.