Leech Hoose, part twelve

All had gone so well in October, when Leta and her children Vivian and Dale celebrated her fiance Leech Hoose’s birthday, that Leta was confident that adding Leech to her family, moving her children into his home and setting up house would be a smooth and easy transition.

On their first evening as a family, however, only two days after she and Leech married and the first night that the four of them were together for a meal, hostility and uncertainty floated in the air. She had merely been attempting light conversation, but her new husband ferociously told her to stop.

They continued their meal in silence. Leech finished first and rose.

“I will be back,” he said.

He left the kitchen. Leta and her children listened to him retrieve his coat and hat. As the temperature had dropped significantly that evening, Leta almost reminded him to wear his scarf, but thought better of it and refrained. A few moments later the front door opened and closed. Leta was relieved he did not slam the door. But she was perplexed by his hostility. The children were watching her.

“Now,” she said after a few more moments, “finish your supper. You have some unpacking to do and then bed. Have you done your homework?”

“Yes, Ma,” Vivian said. Both finished eating, more picking at their meal than enjoying it. As for Leta, she sipped her coffee quietly.

She had been drinking coffee much of the day, with cream. She liked cream, but forfeited it as a luxury when she and her children suffered hard times.

“Aren’t you going to eat, Ma?” Dale asked as he finished his meal.

“No my darling,” she answered. “I’m not very hungry.”

“May I have your chicken?”

“Of course,” she said, lifting her plate. “Do you want the beans, too?”

“I’ll take them,” Vivian offered.

She served her son the chicken and her daughter the beans. Then she stood with the empty plate. She watched her children eat for a moment. They both looked thin.

“I also want you to each have another piece of bread and butter before you get up from the table.”

Vivian looked up quizzically.

“You’re looking a little thin,” Leta explained.

“I’m really hungry,” Dale said as he reached for the bread.

Leech returned to the house two hours later. Dale had just gone to bed. Leta and Vivian were sitting in the living room. Upon his arrival, Vivian put down the book she was reading and started to leave the room.

“Good evening, ladies,” Leech said with a smile. “May I join you? What are you reading, my dear?”

He reached for Vivian’s book, and she handed it to him. “Dickens?”

“It’s for my literature class,” Vivian said.

“Great Expectations. Do you like it?”

“Yes, pretty much. Last year we read Oliver Twist, and I liked that one much better.”

“He’s a foreigner, isn’t he? Dickens?” Leech questioned.

“English,” Vivian explained.

“Don’t know why they don’t teach American writers,” Leech said with some disappointment. “These hoity toity Britishers put false ideas into young people’s heads. They have a class system over there, you know. We fought a revolution to keep our money here, and now schools is buying books that support them.”

“He’s a good writer,” Vivian offered weakly.

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, carry on,” he concluded with a wave of his hand. Vivian left the room.

Leech plopped down beside Leta, gently pressing against her.

“How are you this evening, wife?” he inquired, planting a kiss on her cheek before she could deflect him. He wrapped one arm around her and squeezed. As her hands were in her lap holding one of Dale’s hand-me-down shirts she was altering to fit his smaller frame, his embrace compressed and trapped her.

“Fine,” she said insecurely. “How are you?”

“Very fine,” he answered with a smile and pressed into her even more.

“Did you have a good evening?” he inquired.

“Yes,” she answered. “After supper, the children and I had a quiet time here.”

“Did they finish unpacking?”

“Mostly,” she answered. “What we brought this afternoon. My brother-in-law Hiram will bring the rest tomorrow.”

“Good,” he said. “I want them to think of this as their home.”

An unexpected warmth rushed through Leta, and without realizing it, she pressed into her husband a little bit.

“And how was your evening?” she asked.

“Just fine,” he said.

“Are you hungry?” she continued. “Can I get you anything?”

“I am hungry,” he said. “Do you have any of that pie left?”

“Why, yes, of course,” she said, pulling herself away from him. “Would you like some coffee to go with it?”

“That sounds excellent.”

He followed her into the kitchen where poured both of them a cup of coffee. Then she cut him a slice of pie. After she put the plate in front of him, she went to the icebox.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting cream for my coffee,” she answered.

“Hold off on that a second and try it without.”

“I like cream in my coffee,” she explained.

“Of course, you do, but I want you to first try it the way it is,” he encouraged. “I—let’s just say I doctored it up a bit.”

She looked at him suspiciously.

“All right, but I’m not sure I like this.”

She sipped the coffee, and her face brightened. He had added some alcohol. It was an unfamiliar taste to her.

“Oh my!” she exclaimed. “What is it?”

“Irish coffee,” he said with a smile.

“You got Irish…?” she started.

“…Whiskey,” he smiled. “Yepper. “One of the guys at work brought it back from his visit to the old country.”

Then he produced a flask from his pocket.

“It’s not much, but it sure is tasty.”

“I’ll say,” she agreed, taking another sip.

A pleasant conversation followed, and a short time later they went to bed.

Concluded…for now.

Leech Hoose, part eleven

It was a simple birthday celebration. That was all Leta could afford, and in truth, she could not really afford that. The pork roast and cake would require more sacrifice for her and her children, but she and Mr. Leech Hoose were engaged to be married as soon as her divorce from the unreliable and inept Ora Freeman was finalized. The little party was her way of initiating family. While she had known Leech for nearly a year, her children had yet to meet him.

She had just served the meal. Although her children waited for her to be seated to say the table grace, Leech started to eat immediately. Both were looking at her with confusion, so she raised her glass of whiskey.

“A Toast!”

Her fiance stopped eating and looked up. The children raised their glasses of water.

As Leta continued, Leech watched.

“To Mr. Leech Hoose, a fine working man. May God bless him—you—on your birthday and throughout the coming year. We give thanks for you, this food and all of our blessings.”

“Amen!” Dale exclaimed.

Leech was startled, but stopped eating and raised his glass.

By the time Leta cut the cake, the quartet was engaging in jovial banter. Leech even showed them how he could balance a glass on his head. Although Dale tried several times, he could not master the trick. All he succeeded in doing was making his mother nervous about breaking the glass.

“That’s enough,” Leta declared after the fifth attempt.

“Sorry, my boy,” Leech said sympathetically. “But you’re missing the most important element for the trick to work.”

“What’s that?” Dale inquired with exasperation.

“Flat head,” Leech said, tapping the side of his temple with one finger.

As she cleared away the last of the cake plates, Leta asked if Leech wanted anything else. He leaned back and patted his slightly bulging stomach.

“No, thank you, Leta,” he said. “I’m plum full. I couldn’t eat another bite. That was an excellent meal.”

“Thank you,” she said. “And we’ll wrap up a big chunk of cake for you to take with you.”

“Not necessary,” he said. “I’m not a big cake eater. That one piece will satisfy me until my next birthday.”

Leta’s countenance fell.

“Oh dear,” she said. “If I’d known, I would have made you something else. What do you like? Do you like pie?”

“You got me. I’m a pie man.”

“Then I have to make you a pie,” Leta declared.

“But mother—“ Vivian began.

“I—I know, I know,” Leta interrupted. “We don’t have any fruit in the house. But I could get some apples from Aunt Louise. If you can wait until next weekend, Mr. Hoose.”

Then she cocked her head.

“Wait. Do we have any brown sugar? I could make a butterscotch pie right now.”

“Mmm, butterscotch,” Dale grinned.

“Now, now,” Leech declared, waving his hands in protest, “I won’t have that. No pie tonight. Leta and I have other things to do.”

“We do?” Leta inquired.

“It’s Saturday night, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir!” Dale agreed.

“Then it’s time to put on our hats and head out,” Leech declared, as he stood.

“Oh,” Leta said, “of course. Give me just a minute to freshen up. Vivian, will you please finish the dishes?”

“Yes, Ma.”

Five minutes later, Leta and Leech headed to the club for their regular Saturday evening repast and continued his birthday celebration until the establishment closed for the night.

To be continued.

Leech Hoose, part ten

They were eating their second meal together. Leta had married Mr. Leech Hoose on Saturday, and on Monday, she and her children Vivian and Dale moved into his house in East Toledo. Before he went to work that morning, she asked him what he wanted for supper, and he requested chicken and potatoes. Her first mistake of the meal was to add green beans. That was easily resolvable, however. She simply served the green beans to the children and herself and gave him her portion of potatoes.

Her second mistake was that she tried to engage her family in conversation during the meal. She wanted her new husband and her children to like each other. She wanted to establish a family dynamic immediately, even though two hours earlier she cautioned her children about upsetting their new stepfather. As a result, she prompted a conversation.  Leech made it clear that he was not interested, but she persisted.

“Shut…your…mouth,” Leech yelled.

Leta was too stunned to speak. She had never heard him raise his voice like this, and he had never been so unpleasant toward her.

At the first meal that the family shared together, he had been friendly and amiable. That meal took place a few months earlier, in early October. For his 35^th birthday, she made him a sumptuous meal of roasted pork, mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet potatoes, and corn with a pineapple upside down cake for dessert. She had also secured a pint of strong whiskey from one of her late husband Albert’s former clients.

When he arrived, Dale, dressed in his Sunday best with his hair slicked down, greeted Mr. Hoose at the door, took his hat and coat, and gestured to the “seat of honor.” Vivian, wearing one of Leta’s nicer dresses brought him the glass of whiskey on a little tray that Leta inherited from her mother. Once he took the glass, Dale pushed a small footstool toward him, enabling Leech to put his feet up slightly.

“Thank you very much, little boy,” Leech said. He finished his drink and handed Vivian the glass, which she hastily refilled. “Good girl.”

“Supper will be ready in a minute,” Leta said from the kitchen area where she was cooking. As their garret didn’t have much of a facility, she had to concentrate on the many elements of the meal to ensure that all would be ready at the same time. “My darlings, why don’t you introduce yourself to Mr. Hoose while I finish up.”

“I’m Vivian,” the girl said.

“I’m Dale. I’m 12,” the boy said eagerly. “Actually I will be 12 tomorrow. Tomorrow is my birthday.”

“So is this a double celebration?” Leech inquired.

“Oh no,” Dale explained, “tonight is special for you. It’s your birthday. Happy Birthday, Mr. Hoose.”

Leech sipped his drink.

“You keep this place nice,” he said.

“We try,” Leta said, “don’t we, Vivian?”

“Yes, Ma,” Vivian agreed.

Both children were still standing near Leech, Vivian holding the small try with the whiskey bottle, and Dale even closer, fidgeting a little with his hands in his pockets, and his eyes focused on their visitor.

“What?” Leech said to him. “Do I got something in my teeth?”

“No, sir,” Dale stuttered and stepped back.

“Dale,” Leta said firmly but gently, “you know it’s not polite to stare.”

“Yes, Ma,” Dale said sheepishly, stepping back and turning toward his mother.

“It smells good,” Leech said.

“Thank you,” Leta said. “I’m making mashed potatoes and gravy to go with the pork roast. I hope that’s all right.”

“Potatoes is good,” Leech said. “I don’t care much for gravy, but most folks like it.”

“We love gravy,” Leta shared, “don’t we, children?”

“Yes, Ma,” Vivian answered.

Leech signaled that he wanted a refill, and she obliged.

A few minutes later, Leta served the meal. They did not have enough room on the table for everything, so she served one item at a time. First, the chicken, then the potatoes, gravy, and some stewed tomatoes.”

“Where did you get stewed tomatoes?” Leech questioned.

“We canned them, Leta answered. “The landlady lets me grow a few tomato plants out back.”

“I love stewed tomatoes!”

“I remembered you telling me, and it’s your birthday, so I thought….”

Although the children waited to say grace, Leech immediately began to eat. When she sat down, Leta looked at her confused children and smiled. Vivian had poured her a glass of whiskey for her mother, which she lifted into the air.

“A toast,” she said.

Leech stopped eating and looked up.

To be continued.

Leech Hoose, part nine

Leta spent her Monday studying her new husband Leech Hoose’s house. Actually, since she had married him on Saturday, it was now her house as well. She learned the furniture, walls, windows, cupboards, dinnerware, cookware, beds, linens, dressers and closets. She learned that while he lived simply and kept very little decoration in the house, Leech was a hoarder. Two of the closets contained old, worn clothes. One dresser was stuffed with tattered towels and washcloths. He had three toasters stuffed in a cupboard. Only one worked. A second and third set of dishes, most of them chipped or cracked, filled two shelves in another cupboard. The kitchen closet was home to five brooms with no bristles, three mops with partial heads and four dented metal pails. Two of these leaked, including the one that looked relatively new.

Nevertheless, Leta hummed through the day. At three o’clock, she walked briskly to Dale’s school and met him at the door. The two of them then continued to their now former apartment where Vivian was waiting. They finished packing their meager belongings and talked about their new situation.

“Now, Leech has been living by himself for a very long time,” Leta informed them. “It’s going to take some getting used to for him to have three other people in the house. We need to be respectful of him and helpful to him. For the first few days especially, let’s remember that, and try to stay out of his way a little bit. We’ll all have dinner together, of course. And I think he likes to relax in the parlor, which means that the two of you can do your homework at the kitchen table. But if he does like to spend his evenings at the table, then we’ll give him that room. We’ll just have to wait and see.

“Still, the house is nice. You will each have your own bedroom. When we get there, Vivian, I’m going to need you to take our sheets and make the beds. I prepared the rooms for you already. We won’t be able to wash them to use tonight, but we’ll get to that during the week. And, Dale, you can help her.”

Leta had arranged for her brother-in-law Hiram to bring his truck the following afternoon to transport the few boxes they had. In the meantime, the threesome each carried a suitcase to the trolley and their new home.

By the time Leech arrived, she had their second meal as a family ready. The children had washed and dressed in their Sunday clothes. She wore her best dress and styled her hair. As there was no dining room, she set the kitchen table, decorating it with flowers and the nicest plates they could find in the house. The newly cleaned kitchen sparkled.

When she heard the automobile stop, she was in the kitchen stirring the green beans. She quickly removed her apron, adjusted her hair and met him at the front door.

“Good evening, darling,” she said with a smile, as he entered the front door, holding out her hand for his hat. He seemed startled at first to see her, but then smiled, handed her his hat and removed his coat. “Are you hungry? Supper’s ready.”

“Starved,” he said.

A few moments later, they were all seated at the table. She served Leech first, offering him the small platter of chicken. He took a large portion of breast and one of the legs, and immediately began to eat. The children were sitting with folded hands, and noticeably reacted with surprise. Leta looked at them intently and shook her head. She handed the platter of chicken to Vivian and returned to the stove for the boiled potatoes. Leech barely looked up as she slid several onto his plate, but continued to eat loudly. When she returned a third time with the green beans, he stopped.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Green beans,” Leta answered.

“I said chicken and potatoes,” he noted.

“Yes, of course, darling,” Leta agreed. “And I made green beans, too.”

“Get that shit away from me,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry,” she said, withdrawing. “I didn’t know you didn’t like green beans.”

“Potatoes,” he grunted. “More potatoes.”

“Sure,” she said. First she emptied the pan, and then she gave him hers. While neither of her children seemed to notice, both ate their own potatoes immediately. This, she told herself, was a learning experience. Leech liked potatoes. He didn’t like green beans. Perhaps he didn’t like vegetables at all. She could cook what he liked.

“Dale,” she suggested as she sat to her own meal of chicken, green beans and bread, “tell Father about what you learned in science today.”

“What?” Leech gasped. “I’m eating here. Not while I’m eating.”

“But it was about engineering,” Leta clarified, “which you’re interested—“

“—I said I’m eating!” Leech snapped.

“I just thought that since we were all together now, we could use this time to—“

Leech slammed his fist on the table.

“Dammit, woman!” he yelled. “Are you deaf? Or stupid. Let me be clear this time. Shut…your…mouth.”

To be continued.