Secrets, part ten

Leta was having her weekly lunch with her sister-in-law and best friend Florence, and after several meetings and conversations, Florence had begun to question her inconsistent behavior. One moment Leta was as happy as a schoolgirl in spring the next she was as withdrawn and noncommunicative as a young woman in adolescence. Florence had already noted that Leta’s behavior was similar to a young woman’s in love, which seemed to be uncharacteristic considering Leta had been expressing unhappiness in her marriage with Ora.

In only a few seconds, Leta’s countenance went from excitement to gloomy.

 “What is it?” Florence questioned.

“What?”

“You became very sad all of a sudden.”

“Really? I don’t know why.”

Then their server arrived, allowing Leta to change the subject. Florence accepted Leta’s decision but continued to search in Leta’s words and expressions for hidden information. When they finished their meal and parted, Florence made one more attempt to coax Leta into revelation of the basis of the emotional inconsistency, but Leta ignored it and simply sent a loving greeting to her brother and nieces.

From that moment, Leta realized that she must be more guarded with her emotions. While she had not even started talking with her much missed Albert until after she had formally separated with Ralph, she was more than socially involved with Leech and simultaneously very much married to Ora.

Although she had scheduled a lunch date with Leech for the following day, Leta chose to remain at home instead. This was not a definitive decision for her to make. In fact, she felt so vexed by Florence’s observations that she spent the afternoon, evening and much of a restless night anxiously reviewing her situation and alternating between continuing her relationship with Leech and abandoning her attachment altogether. The only time she felt happy in her life occurred when she was with Leech, but when she wasn’t with him, she struggled with a combination of guilt and eagerness to see him again.

Perhaps sensing her distress, Ora awoke early in the morning with her. While she was dressing, he made the coffee and had a steaming cup waiting for her. She cooked breakfast, of course, but he assisted in the kitchen and chatted with a liveliness that she had not experienced in a long time. When the children made their way to the breakfast table, he greeted them with a big smile, complimented her cooking to them and then handed each of them a dollar. Vivian accepted with a quiet thank you, but Dale, who had been eyeing a set of adventure novels was ecstatic and begged his mother if he could stop at Woolworth’s on his way home from school to purchase several.

“You may spend fifty cents,” Leta stated. “The rest I want you to save. Vivian, you, too.”

Dale started to protest, but Ora interjected firmly, “You heard your mother.”

Rather than obtain the desired effect of humble obedience, Ora’s remark caused Dale’s face to redden with fury. Leta cleared her throat quickly. She had recently had long conversations with both of her children, developing with them several calm responses to any of their stepfather’s vicious remarks or demands.

“Yes, Ma,” Dale said grudgingly.

A short time later, Leta was alone. She set herself to washing the breakfast dishes and then her housework directly. She needed to keep busy and follow a strict schedule in order to distract her from the lure to meet Mr. Hoose for lunch as planned. The time passed slowly, and in spite of her best efforts, she looked at the clock every ten or fifteen minutes. After she washed the coffee percolator, she made another pot and drank continually all morning. This only intensified her tremulous movements.

At twelve twenty-five, five minutes before she had planned to meet Leech for lunch, she turned away from the clock completely. She made herself a chicken sandwich for lunch, poured herself the last cup of coffee and tried to read the newspaper. The sounds in the quiet room were thunderous, from the clock’s steady ticking and the rattle of the breeze on the kitchen window to her own chewing. Each sip of coffee reverberated throughout the kitchen.

To be continued.

Secrets, part nine

Almost as thought it was a natural flow of their budding friendship, Leta and Mr. Leech Hoose began to meet for lunch on Wednesdays. They initially met at a speakeasy where Leta had been fleeing her husband Ora, began to visit with each other there regularly, and finally developed a casual friendship. The Wednesday lunch dates were a sign that the friendship was developing into even more intimate territory.

While Leech preferred Tuesdays, Leta had her longstanding weekly lunch date with her sister-in-law Florence and on occasion her sisters Nellie and Louise. If she wanted to alter that date, she would have to give Florence a complete explanation, and in this instance, that was something she could not do. Florence’s strict religiosity would not understand or condone Leta’s betrayal of her marriage vows.

Leta justified it for herself by noting that Ora was also failing their marriage. He was not a good husband, provider or even stepparent. With Leech, she was happy and relaxed. She began to take better care of herself and her appearance, as well as dress more fashionably. When she thought about him, she her countenance became more outgoing.

“What’s happening, Leta?” Florence asked during one of their weekly lunches.

“What do you mean?” Leta asked in return.

“I can’t figure out what, but you’ve been going through something lately,” Florence explained. “One day you’re as giggly as one of my girls, and then next you’re as irritable as ever I’ve seen you. At first, I thought you might be drinking in the morning—“

“What?” Leta interrupted, dropping her fork.

“—But then,” Florence continued, “I remembered you weren’t like that.”

“Damn right I’m not!”

“Leta!”

“Florence, you just accused me of being a drunk,” Leta charged.

“No,” Florence corrected, “I said I was concerned about your behavior.

“You said you thought I was drinking in the morning,” Leta returned.

“I said I didn’t think that was the reason, but even so, Leta, you are behaving quite oddly.”

“It’s a far cry from being irritable and angry all the time, as I have been for months, isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course,” Florence agreed. “It’s just a bit extreme, these mood swings. If I didn’t know better, I would say you were in love.”

Leta’s body tensed, and she quickly took a drink of water before she revealed to her sister-in-law too much. She was falling in love, but with a man who wasn’t her husband. Until that moment, she had not considered it.

“Really?” she choked out.

“Something very interesting must be going on with you and Ora,” Florence said. “I thought you were unhappy with him.”

“He just started a job,” Leta countered. “There is a man who owns a few duplexes in West Toledo that hired him and a couple of other fellows to paint all of his buildings.”

“That’s wonderful!” Florence exclaimed. “I must confess, Aaron and I have been worried. It’s been a few weeks since he’s had a job.”

“Me, too. But he gets his first paycheck on Friday, and then I can pay off some bills,” Leta agreed.

“How long do you expect him to be working?”

“Right now, it looks like three months,” Leta answered.

“This will help you financially quite a bit,” Florence noted.

“Yes,” Leta answered, but upon realizing that for the next several weeks life at home would be more pleasant, her countenance fell.

To be continued.

Secrets, part eight

Mr. Hoose was the most charming and determined fellow Leta had met during her visits to the speakeasy where she went to get away from her unhappy life with her husband Ora. While they had seen each other previously at the establishment, it wasn’t until a night after a terrible encounter at home with her husband that Mr. Hoose actually approached her.

His manner initially was as aggressive as any other man who had introduced himself to her over the past couple of months. He looked at her as if she was a desperate, loose woman seeking temporary and improper male companionship. She gently rebuffed him by stating quite clearly that she was a married woman with children and that her husband worked a second shift at a local factory and would be meeting her after he finished work for the night. Where it deterred most of her would-be suitors, Mr. Hoose let her comment roll off him, and he asked if he might sit down with her anyway.

She was tired and upset with the situation at home and agreed.

“May I buy you a drink?” he asked.

Leta sighed heavily. She had already had two and four was her maximum when she was with trusted company. Three drinks could disrupt her capability to make good decisions. However, she felt no better from the previous two and agreed.

“You seem a little distressed, Mrs. Freeman,” he said.

“A quarrel,” she said, avoiding explanation, but Mr. Hoose would not let it stay. He liked the sound of her voice, even when it was filled with annoyance and anger.

“With Mr. Freeman?”

“Yes,” she said, sipping her gin and tonic gingerly and weighing what and how much she could tell this stranger with what could be inappropriate attentions.

“My wife and I used to quarrel frequently,” he offered sympathetically.

“Are you divorced?” Leta asked suspiciously.

“She died.”

“I’m very sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“I am frustrated with my husband,” she continued, Mr. Hoose’s understanding eyes coaxing the story out of her.

Over the next month, their conversations went from random to habitual. Leta arranged to leave the house on Thursday and Saturday evenings for three hours. This was easy enough. Ora liked to visit their neighborhood blind pig on Thursdays (as well as any other evening he had the chance) and played cards on Saturdays. As for her children, they spent Saturday nights with their father, who recently became employed once again and suddenly wanted them back in his life on a more consistent basis, and on Thursday, she sent them to a weekly church youth program. Having just been confirmed, Vivian went somewhat reluctantly, but her sense of responsibility for Dale helped Leta to get them both out of the house. Besides, Vivian was elected secretary of the Luther League, the youth spiritual and activities group of their church and felt it part of her role as a youth leader in the church. Although they arrived home long before their mother or stepfather, they were perfectly capable of getting to bed on their own.

The other days of the week were hardly bearable. Ora continued his vicious, slovenly and disrespectful habits. Having reconnected with his father, Dale began to rebel against Ora’s authoritarian and wildly inconsistent attitude. Vivian was losing her sense of independence and becoming clingy. There were times when Leta would excuse herself from them and lock herself in the bedroom for a few moments of peace.

Leech provided the sympathetic ear she needed at the time, and she had many instances and reasons for being unhappy. By the middle of their second month of conversations, he began to gently urge her to make a change. He was never specific, but he told her that being unhappy prevented a person from living a fulfilling and productive life. He knew this from experience.

To be continued.

Secrets, part seven

When he first introduced himself, she nearly laughed out loud. What kind of a name is Leech? Like Ora, he wasn’t very tall, and he had crooked teeth and thinning hair with several uncontrollable wisps that floated in the air in spite of a healthy dose of Brylcream. His face and hands were so pale that they had a kind of yellow sheen to them, and she wondered if he wasn’t suffering from jaundice. What appealed to her, however, was what she called his cockeyed smile. When he smiled, his large, oval head seemed to shift more on one side than the other. One eye would open wider, the mouth would turn crooked and he would raise one eyebrow. He even tilted his head a little bit.

The first time he smiled in that way, he also tipped his hat to her, and she thought of her thirteen-year-old son Dale. He, too, had a slightly large oval head, which he cocked to the left when he smiled. And Leta was at a disadvantage. Dale’s needs were weighing heavily on her mind that evening. Her husband Ora was between house painting jobs, the weather was unpleasant which kept him from his usual wanderings, and Dale was having a particular difficult time with a larger classmate at school. That afternoon Ora had been after the boy from the time that he arrived home from school. Dale was in a poor mood and slammed the door, which awoke his stepfather, who had been napping on the couch. Waking Ora in such a way, Leta and both of her children had learned, always resulted in raised voices and some sort of punishment. In this case, Dale initially suffered through having to go back and forth through the door over two dozen times before appeasing Ora’s demand that he do it properly. However, Dale was not satisfied with the repetition or the result and slammed his bedroom door right after. This caused Ora to rise from the couch and charge to the bedroom.

While Leta could not be considered a lenient mother, she did allow her children to have interior locks on their bedroom doors. Having had their lives disrupted several times in their young lives, she wanted them to have some sense of safety. When they moved in with Ora after the marriage, she had locks installed on all three bedroom doors. Ora hated it, mostly because she hid the spare keys to the children’s bedrooms from him.

After the door slamming altercation, Dale had stormed into his bedroom and locked the door behind him. Ora twisted the handle several times and yelled for the boy to open it, but Dale refused to respond. Unsatisfied, Ora stomped into the kitchen where Leta was cooking their supper and demanded that she give him the key.

“I’ll take care of it,” Leta said calmly, as she stirred the simmering stew.

“This is my house, Leta,” Ora declared, “and I won’t have that kind of behavior in it.”

“I’ll take care if it,” Leta repeated.

“You spoil them kids,” her husband charged. “You let them get away with everything.”

“Ora,” she said, “I’m sure there’s an explanation. You know he’s having trouble with some other boy at school.” Then she changed the subject. “The rain’s stopped. Why don’t you take a little walk, about fifteen minutes, and when you come home I’ll have supper on the table?”

Ora grunted. He was too lazy to remain for long at a high energy level, and was beginning to calm down.

“Fine,” he said, and then added, “But he gets no supper tonight. Do you hear me?”

Finally she faced him. “Yes, I hear you.”

While she registered calm and certainty, she wanted to slap her husband across his contorted face. She simply wanted him away from her.

Four hours later, she was sitting at her usual table in the speakeasy and talking to Mr. Leech Hoose.

To be continued.