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.