Lies and More Lies, part nine

"I'm his wife," the woman told Leta. "Was his wife. This is his daughter."

Leta and her daughter Vivian were standing in the butcher shop, waiting their turn. Leta was looking at cuts of pork to determine which she might like to prepare for their supper. In an already too eventful Saturday, after hearing the butcher greet Leta as Mrs. Hoose, the stranger, who was with a little girl who looked just like her, had just approached her and introduced herself as Goldie Hoose.

The little girl looked at Leta with large brown eyes.

“Pardon me?” Leta inquired. Vivian had moved closer, and both the butcher and the other customer had stalled their transaction to observe the introduction.

“I used to be married to Leech Hoose,” the woman continued. “He left us—me and our children—in November. Our divorce was finalized in February.”

“I don’t believe it,” Leta said. “My husband was never been married before he married me. He’s lived in the same house for years.”

“No, you’re mistaken,” the woman insisted quietly. “He was married to me. We have three children—two boys and a girl. This is our girl.”

Leta looked at the woman incredulously.

“I heard he got married again,” the woman said.

“But he told me….“ Leta protested. “Why are you telling me this?”

The woman’s face became more focused. “I thought you should know,” she said to Leta with a controlled bitterness. Then, before Leta could speak again, she turned away. “Come, Maddy,” she told the little girl.” She took the little girl’s hand and walked toward the door.

Leta started after her. She needed more proof. But Vivian grabbed her arm.

“Ma.”

Everyone in the shop watched the first Mrs. Hoose and her daughter walk out the door and disappear. After they were out of sight, Leta realized her head was pounding. It was as though her brain was expanding to her skull and contracting back, in time with her pulse. The butcher and the other customer were looking at her. Vivian had released her, but was also looking at her. Leta knew that the woman was telling the truth. No woman would like about such a thing. Being divorced was to be disgraced. In her own life, even though she had married her successive husbands almost immediately, she had experienced disdainful looks, social rejection, and even discrimination. For the former Mrs. Hoose, with three children, the status was detrimental. It was apparent in the way she walked and held herself.

Even though she wanted simply to collapse onto the floor, Leta knew that she must remain strong. She raised herself to as high as her stature would allow her.

“Vivian?” she said without looking at her daughter.

“Yes, Ma,” her daughter answered.

“Take the groceries and go home.”

“But what about the roast?”

“Just do as I tell you,” Leta answered firmly. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Ma.”

With that, Leta pulled her pocketbook to her hip, straightened her spine and walked deliberately out of the shop.

To be continued.