Wednesday, December 31, 2014

The Secretary

Leta spent two months in Madison, Wisconsin. Charlie—that’s what she called him—had asked her to be his secretary on a project there, and she liked him well enough that she agreed. She didn’t really have any secretarial skills, but she was a good organizer and paid attention to detail. If he spoke slowly enough, she could take dictation. Charlie didn’t really want her for her secretarial skills anyway.

They had met several times at the Flat Iron when he was passing through on business. He would stop in for a few drinks, and she would talk to him. She was there on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. On Wednesdays, she would mind her sister-in-law Florence’s children during Bible study. On Fridays, they would have a family dinner at which she would have two or three glasses of bourbon, and then collapse into bed. Sundays was her day off. She would usually go to church, then meet one of her sisters—Louise or Nellie—for dinner, and to give “Aaron and Flo a break” from her intrusion into their household.

She had been staying with her brother and sister-in-law for six months—from September until March—six stressful and lonely months. She knew that she wasn’t an ideal situation, but she had no choice. She had left her husband, taken her children to their father’s and had nowhere else to go. It wasn’t an easy situation for any of them, except perhaps their two daughters. Lucille and June loved having their glamorous aunt in the house. For the most part, their mother Florence was pleased. She had her dearest friend with her, cooking, cleaning, laughing and sewing. Leta could sew beautifully, and assisted Florence in making several dresses for herself and her girls. Her brother Aaron also enjoyed Leta’s company, but disapproved of his younger sister’s behavior with men. She didn’t always approve of his behavior either. He spent two nights per week dealing cards in the backroom of the Flat Iron. Leta didn’t mind the card playing so much, but she feared that with the gambling element, he might be arrested. Over the months, they had several rows.

So Leta took breaks. She would meet a fellow at the Flat Iron or another speakeasy and spend anywhere from a night to a weekend to a week with him. She never asked if he was married, she never asked anything about her companion’s family. Most of their talk was comprised of mindless nothings, easily forgotten, as he was. Some of the men were traveling salesmen, like Charlie. He was based in Cleveland, but traveled throughout Northern Ohio. When he invited her to a business conference in Madison to assist him, she agreed immediately. Her decision was aided by an argument she had earlier that afternoon with her brother. And she had been sufficiently intoxicated to not really think about the choice she made.

Fortunately, it wasn’t a bad decision.

Charlie was a pleasant enough fellow, tall, cheerful and chatty. Most salesmen, she learned, were outgoing and full of stories of their adventures. The two of them took the train from Toledo to Chicago, spent a day there exploring the city, and then another train to Minneapolis, where they immediately transferred to the train to Madison. For reasons that were obvious to Leta, he wanted a sleeping car, but his company would not pay for it, so they sat side-by-side on a regular car. During a good part of the ride, she rested one of her hands in his lap. Three times during the trip, she had to wash her hand, and twice they went into the small lavatory together.

In Madison, Leta went with him everywhere—to every meeting and activity. He introduced her as his secretary. She took notes of the conversations, she filled out order forms, and she charmed his colleagues and clients. Her companion bought her two new dresses, shoes, pocketbooks and an elegant coat. He gave her the money to have her hair styled.

She had the time of her life.

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