Secrets, part eleven

Leta felt conflict and confusion. She was married to Ora Freeman. He had heroically rescued her and her children after the sudden death of her husband Albert. Ora had been attentive, charming and devoted. She married him, and only after did she learn that his habits, manners and behaviors were not those of a man with a wife and family to support. Over the next several months, their life together became tense, and at least for Leta and her children, miserable. Ora’s work as a house painter was sporadic and to add more financial uncertainty, he rarely pursued jobs. His personal habits of cleanliness were lacking, and there were times when Leta was so disgusted with him that she could barely stand to be in the same room.

For her own peace, she began to frequent a speakeasy in another part of the city, not too far from their home, but far enough that Ora would never visit. It was also a higher caliber of establishment than he dared set foot in. There she met Mr. Leech Hoose, who had been unconcerned that she was married, who had found her charming and witty, who liked to look into her eyes.

Over a period of three months, Leta and Leech became more intimate, meeting on a schedule at the speakeasy and even having lunch on Wednesdays. The masculine attention altered Leta’s countenance, but when her sister-in-law Florence began to notice, Leta determined that she must stop seeing the preferred male companion. To begin, she had decided that she would stay home rather than meet him at 12:30 p.m. on this particular Wednesday. While this caused her tremendous consternation, Leta held to her resolution.

While the impulse taunted her, she refused to look at the large kitchen clock, and even when she turned in that general direction, she lowered her head. Finally, she could wait no longer. It was after one in the afternoon, and she needed to walk to the market for some flour and sausages for supper. Although on an alternative route, she passed the café where she had been meeting Leech. Being so late in the afternoon, the restaurant was nearly empty, and he was not there.

She felt relief and sadness, and this melancholy took root in her, and then steadily grew throughout the day, dwarfing the anxiety she felt earlier. When the children arrived home from school, she was making cookies, but she barely noted their presence. A large emptiness filled her mind. Her son Dale prattled aimlessly about a new recess game he and some of the other boys had created, and she nodded and responded appropriately, but she wasn’t listening.

Her thoughts were filled with Leech and the constant rejection of those thoughts.

“Ma!”

Vivian’s raised voice startled her, and she looked at her daughter who had at some point seated herself at the kitchen table to do her homework.

“You already added the sugar,” Vivian continued when she had her mother’s attention.

“Oh yes, of course,” Leta agreed, stirred her raisin compote and then put the sugar away. “Let’s put your books away,” she added, “and set the table for supper. Your step-father should be home soon.”

But Ora failed to arrive. The trio waited until well after 7:00 p.m., and ate. Leta had Vivian make a plate for Ora, sent the children to their rooms, dressed and then took the bus to the only place she would find comfort.

Leech was there.

To be continued.