Custody Battle, part five

It was a quiet morning, a Friday, not even a week after she had confronted her ex-husband Ralph about his petitioning for custody of their children. He had never been much of a father. He would go for weeks without any communication with their children whatsoever, but now, with no warning, he began the process of taking her children away from her. Not only was legal precedence in his favor, but he had also threatened to expose to the authorities the illegal alcohol-making business that Leta ran with her husband Albert.

For days, she barely performed her household duties. She was distracted and constantly on the verge of tears. She and Albert had told no one, none of the members of her family and definitely not the children.

Leta was alone in the house. Her mind was so distracted by her own melancholy that she did not even hear her older sister Louise enter.

“Why are you sitting in the dark?” Louise inquired. “And sewing? How can you sew when you can’t even see?”

Louise reached past Leta to the lamp and turned it on.

The light startled Leta even more than her sister’s unexpected appearance.

“I telephoned, but you didn’t answer,” Louise continued. “Leta?”

Leta felt like she was in a deep sleep, and her sister’s voice reached way into the darkness, grabbed her by the collar of her dress and was pulling her out. Even though she didn’t want to leave her place, she could not resist the sister strength and insistence.

Louise was standing over her, still in her long coat, her hair bundled in a hat that cast a shadow across her face.

“Leta?” Louise said again.

And finally Leta’s eyes registered her sister and her surroundings, and she could speak.

“Louise? Hello. Is everything all right?”

“Not with you obviously,” Louise answered.

“Is it raining?” Leta asked. She was so overwhelmed by her own grief that her mind could barely grasp what was happening.

“It wasn’t when I walked in the door, but—“ Louise began before realizing that the drapes were closed. “Why are you sitting here in the dark?”

Louise strode across the room and opened the drapes on the front windows. There was light, but still not enough to turn off the lamp.

“It’s starting to sprinkle, I think,” Louise answered. “Why doesn’t it just rain and get it over with? It was like this all day yesterday, too.”

“Was it?”

Louise turned to her younger sister, and her concerned look flashed with a little frustration and anger.

“Leta? What is going on here? Where is your mind? Albert?”

Leta knew what she meant. Both of her sisters thought that she had married Albert rashly, and that their romance would dwindle. After all, he was older, had never been married, was known as a ladies’ man, laughed too easily and was far too affectionate for their more conservative behavior. While he had a good job, he liked to imbibe quite a bit, and then there was the moonshine still. They liked him, but feared he would not last. He seemed a bit too much like their own father in his more rambunctious behaviors. And while Leta had a lot of her father in her, she also had her mother’s steadfastness and work ethic. This made her highly vulnerable and volatile at the same time.

“Ralph,” Leta corrected, putting Vivian’s unfinished dress aside and standing.

“Ralph?” Louise gasped.

“Let me fix you a cup of coffee,” Leta said, and guided her sister into the kitchen, where she told her all that had been transpiring. For the most part, she kept calm, but near the end of her tale, the tears started to flow. In an uncommon gesture, Louise reached across the table and touched her hand.

“I’m so sorry,” Louise murmured. “What are you going to do?”

“Honestly?” Leta answered. “I don’t know. If I protest or say anything, he’ll tell the court we have a still in the basement, that we’re moonshiners.”

“Well, Leta!” Louise snapped incredulously. “Then you need to get rid of the still!”

“But, it’s Al’s…“ Leta stammered. “He…”

“We’re talking about Vivian and Dale!”

Leta bowed her head and dabbed her eyes with her already soaked handkerchief.

Louise stayed for the morning, prepared lunch and forced Leta to eat. Then she had her sister wash, comb her hair, put on a different dress and even a little make-up.

“Now, make those kids of yours some of your raisin cookies,” she ordered. “I insist.”

To be continued.