Secrets, part six

In a very short time, Leta began to develop new friendships. This was unexpected in her life. For slightly over a year, she had been married to Ora Freeman, a house painter, who had been graciously attentive to her and her children Vivian and Dale, after the shocking murder of her husband Albert. Ora’s kindness and attention won Leta’s aching and empty heart and satisfied her need to provide a stable and secure home for her children, and she married him.

However, Ora’s receptiveness, and his financial security, were fleeting. Shortly after she and the children moved into his house, he had reverted to a somewhat bachelor life-style, transforming Leta into a housekeeper and her children into little servants he demanded call him daddy. Money was almost always in short supply, and Ora had no understanding of how much it cost to raise a family, even though he promised her he would take care of them.

For her part, she anticipated that her warming heart would continue to grow in fondness and desire for him as married life proceeded. But his subtle transformations wore on her and left her feeling more lonely than she had after she lost Albert. Ora had not made love to her in weeks, and she was beginning to feel unappealing and forlorn. Her girlfriends and her sisters all started to notice. Her growing unhappiness began to affect her children, as well. Always a polite scholar and conscientious companion, 15-year-old Vivian began to become irritable and unpleasant, particularly to her 13-year-old brother Dale and their cousins. Dale was becoming disobedient, lazy and sloppy, like his step-father. Although only 34 years old, Leta felt like her life had turned into an elongated evening of sitting in an empty living room.

Then something unexpected happened. One evening after Ora had behaved abominably, Leta had left the house in a fury to gather herself at their local establishment. While sipping her drink, she had been approached by an attractive younger man, and suddenly, she realized that she was a woman with feelings and passion. This realization led her to her current behavior. Twice a week, since Ora was working steadily and arriving home late, she would bathe, dress and take the streetcar across the river to a elegant speakeasy.  

A vivacious person, Leta quickly made friends and became comfortable in the establishment. That could have been enough, except she was a woman with needs. The single, and even some married, men began to catch her eye, and vice versa. She couldn’t explain how it happened—perhaps with a smile across the room or an “is this seat taken?”—but during her ventures, she became a different person, a flirtatious, friendly, laughing, affectionate companion. No one at the speakeasy knew she was miserably married, occupied her days cleaning and attending to an unhappy household and spent her limited free time lamenting her life. They knew her as a woman with personality, wisdom and humor with an exquisite taste in hats.

The more comfortable she became the more she attracted men to her, and Leta revelled in the attentions. At least twice per evening, she would gently rebuke the advances of men who were infatuated with her and wanted to take another step. She never told them she was married, she claimed she was a widow, but she did use her children to keep her suitors at bay.

“I have children,” she would share, “and after the death of their father, they’ve been having a hard time. They’re just not ready. It’s been too hard.”

And then she met a man, who wouldn’t take her gentle rejection as a absolute.

To be continued.