Leta Gets a Parakeet, part six

After the New Year's Eve stumble of 1964, Leta’s friendship with Delbert Henderson grew. By March, they were spending two or three evenings per week together. Since he liked steak so much, they ate frequently at Bill Knapp’s, which he avowed had the best steak in the area. A couple of times they dined there with Leta’s daughter Vivian and her husband Ed. Ed agreed with Delbert’s assessment and would become a regular patron over the next two decades. Sometimes Leta cooked for them, although at age 71, she was weary of cooking. Still, Delbert wasn’t too demanding. He liked a pork or beef roast and potatoes. That was fairly easy to make.

Delbert also liked to play cards. They belonged to three card clubs and played with other couples as well. Sometimes they sat at Leta’s table and played cards together. Delbert was also fond of whist, although she almost always beat him at the game. This sometimes made Leta feel badly. When she asked him if he would rather play a different game, he would shake his head and tell her that he liked her competitiveness and to see her so victorious. He liked to see her smile, he said, and hear her laughter.

One early April morning, they decided to go for a drive and then picnic at a park along the lake. Leta prepared their lunch, and Delbert picked her up at the appointed time. She was ready and listening to the songbirds in a tree at the front of her apartment. Following his usual practice, Delbert parked the car on the street and then walked up to her.

“Good morning!” he said cheerfully.

Leta held up her hand.

“Listen.” After a pause, she continued, “Isn’t it just beautiful.”

Delbert looked at her quizzically.

“The birds,” she said. “They make such lovely music. I could listen all day.”

“It’s definitely pretty,” he agreed.

“Their singing reminds me that we’re all alive.”

Of course, Leta thought nothing of what she said. In fact, if someone would have quoted her, she would have nodded and agreed, not remembering that she posited the idea in the first place. For her, singing birds was simply a good part of the world and listening to them was a natural thing to do.

Her birthday that April was fairly inconsequential. She went shopping and had lunch with Vivian, and would spend the Saturday following with her son Dale. In the evening, she had dinner and card playing plans with Delbert. They would eat at Bill Knapp’s and then return to her house for dessert.

She had just finished preparing when she heard the doorbell. She liked how Delbert always came right up to the door to escort her to the car where he would open the door for her and make sure she was comfortable before closing it and moving into the driver’s seat. When she opened the door, however, he wasn’t standing there. This startled her, and she looked around a moment. Perhaps he forgot something related to the car. Although the car was parked on the street where she could see it, she could not see him. Then in her peripheral vision she saw the package.

“What’s this?” she said aloud.

It was a strange shape, almost square with a rounded top, and covered with a cloth. She bent over to pick it up, but didn’t see a handle. She had no idea how heavy it was, so she was hesitant to pick it up. The cloth was loose, simply dropped over the package. She gently grabbed a part and pulled.

To be continued.

Leta Gets a Parakeet, part five

Leta stepped back from the front door of her apartment to let her caller inside. It was New Year’s Day, 1965, late in the evening. Leta was in the midst of preparing for bed when her doorbell rang. She hurriedly put on her robe and ran to the door to find that her friend Delbert Henderson was waiting outside in the cold.

Delbert stepped into the apartment and she closed the door, but not before a draft of cold sent shivers up her spine.

“Do you want to sit?” Leta asked. “Take your coat off?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he said, turning toward her just inside the door. Then he went silent for what seemed like an eternity. The quiet was long enough for her to remember their last few moments together the previous night—New Year’s Eve—when she joined him for an evening of card playing with two other couples. She behaved badly. She had too much to drink, became too loud, laughed inappropriately, and maybe was overbearing.  When he took her home, he spoke not a word. She spent the entire day vexed about it, wavering between telephoning him or letting him go. She spent the day with her daughter Vivian’s family, and did not have the opportunity to telephone him. When she arrived home, she determined that it was too late.

And now, here he was.

“Leta,” he started nervously, “I know it’s late, and I apologize for that, but I couldn’t want no more to speak with you about last night.”

Leta’s heart jumped.

“Things didn’t go so well,” he continued. “It was supposed to be a nice night of company and pinochle, and, well, I’m sorry. I didn’t treat you so good.” He took a deep breath. “I should’ve remembered that it was a year ago, almost to the day, that you lost Richard. Instead, I spent the entire time missing Beatrice. It was just that she loved New Year’s. I wasn’t sympathetic to you, and so I’m sorry.”

For a few moments, Leta did not know how to respond; however, she felt as though the burden had been lifted from her. While Delbert’s confession did not refute her own behavior, it did reduce her anxiety about it. While she missed Richard, the pain was not so raw that she had to numb it. She had simply been enjoying herself. Since he had made the first apology, she determined that it was appropriate for her to make her own.

“I have a confession of my own,” she said.

He looked at her quizzically.

“I wasn’t on my best behavior last night either. I—“

“No, no, no,” he interrupted. “You don’t have to apologize. In spite of all that you were going through, you were delightful. I won’t hear another word.”

Leta wondered if she should continue or not. She gritted her teeth for a few moments. Then she smiled at him.

“I know it’s late, but would you like a piece of pie and coffee?” she asked.

He relaxed instantly.

“No pie, please. I’m sure it’s delicious, but I’m stuffed from supper,” he protested. “I could use a cup of coffee though. It’s a cold night out there.”

“Then take your coat off and come on in,” Leta said.

Over the next hour the two enjoyed coffee, conversation and a small sliver each of leftover cherry pie. Leta confessed that Vivian had made it.

To be continued.

Leta Gets a Parakeet, part four

Leta arrived home at nine in the evening after spending New Year’s Day with her daughter Vivian’s family, and if she was to be entirely honest, she was tired. She had been up late the previous night, playing Pinochle and celebrating with her friend Delbert Henderson and two other couples. More tellingly, she drank to the point where she became overly gregarious, so much so that when Delbert drove her home, he spoke not a word. He was cool and aloof. She believed that he was unhappy with her, and she may not hear from him again.

Throughout the day, she regretted her behavior, and determined—and then not—that she would telephone him and apologize. Why should I apologize? I was enjoying myself? I was in control of my faculties. Yes, I was a little boisterous and loud, but we were all laughing and having fun, weren’t we?

The truth was that while she was positive that she was enjoying herself, she was not certain that her companions were. And, most importantly, Delbert did not seem to be.

After she removed her coat and hat, she stood near her hall closet for a few minutes. One minute she talked herself into telephoning him, and the next minute she was certain that it was too late or an inappropriate thing to do. It was a chilly night, and her apartment was cool. She needed her sweater. No, she told herself, she needed to go to bed.

Without a word she walked into her bedroom and started to undress. She sat at her vanity and first removed her shoes. Then she stood. She had to be on her feet to remove her panty hose, which she had only started wearing a few months previously. Prior to that she wore stockings and a girdle. The stockings could be removed while she was seated, but the panty hose required the wearer to stand. Once finished, she sat again, stretched out her feet and slipped on her slippers. Then she began to remove her jewelry—earrings, necklace, broach and rings. Each item had a special place. Once she finished, she took a tissue and wiped away what remained of her make-up. She wore very little, but she wore some. Her lipstick had already nearly faded away. She had some rouge and eyeliner. Her process was to do a quick wipe with the tissue and then wash her face in cold cream before going to bed. Sometimes she applied a lot of cold cream and let it soften her face all night. This happened rarely, because she liked to sleep on her side.

She was hanging her dress in the closet when someone rang her doorbell. This startled her, and she took a minute to confirm with herself that she heard what she heard. After all, it was past nine in the evening, and she wasn’t expecting anyone. It also made her nervous, being an older woman who lived alone in a big city. She quickly wiped off her face with a towel, wrapped herself in her robe and proceeded cautiously to the door. As she did not want anyone to know that she was at home, she kept the lights off and peered through the valance. With more light on the outside, she could see that her visitor was a man, dressed in a trench coat with a hat, his breath flowing like smoke in the cold. He seemed unfamiliar, so she looked harder. After he adjusted his position, she could see that her caller was Delbert.

She unlocked and opened the door quickly.

“Delbert Henderson!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Quick, come in from the cold.

To be continued.

Leta Gets a Parakeet, part three

Leta had spent several evenings in December of 1964 with Mr. Delbert Henderson. She was a widow, having lost her husband Richard Eckman a year earlier, and he was a widower whose wife passed away in September. The couples had been friends prior to their respective losses, and subsequently the surviving partners started spending time together. Leta was 78 years old, and Delbert was 76.

On New Year’s Eve, they had supper and played cards with two other couples, but even as she was doing it, Leta realized she was enjoying her vodka tonics too much. When he drove her home, Delbert was obviously unhappy, if not embarrassed, by her behavior. He walked her politely to the door, but then left her without so much as a good night handshake.

She spent New Year’s Day with her daughter Vivian’s family. As was appropriate for the occasion, Vivian prepared spare-ribs and sauerkraut with mashed potatoes, green beans and corn, but Leta was not very hungry.

“Are you all right, Ma?” Vivian asked as she and her daughter Linda started to clear the table. “You barely touched your food, not even your mashed potatoes.”

“I’m fine,” Leta lied, “just a little tired.”

What else could she say? That she had reverted to her old behavior, and in a drunken state alienated a good and kind man, leaving her not only with a hangover, but also cast aside once again? That she had behaved in such a way that she closed off a large social outlet for her and could lose friends and activities? That maybe the way she had lived much of her life was truly wrong? After all, she spent many years of her life, drinking alcohol and meeting men in bars. Many of those men used her, but she also used them. While she had been married for many years, she had also been unmarried for nearly just as many. Further none of her marriages lasted very long—for several reasons: Albert, Bob and Richard died; Ora, Leech and Claud were drunken bums; Curtis and Ralph were dominating and cruel. Although she had chosen each for different reasons, she had not chosen well. Several of them she chose when she was drinking too much alcohol herself. The previous night she had inadvertently reverted to prior behaviors, and this time she was with someone who she knew was a good and kind man. Now, she was feeling the unpleasant effects of her behavior, both physically and emotionally. This also disturbed her.

 “I’m too old for this,” she whispered to herself.

“What did you say, Grandma?” Linda asked as they were cleaning the kitchen after everyone had a piece of pie.

“Nothing, darling,” Leta answered.

‘You were just thinking loudly,,” Linda decided. “That’s what Mom calls it,” Linda said.

“That sounds about right,” Leta said.

By the time they finished their chore Leta had decided. She would telephone Delbert as soon as she returned home. It would be a bold move, but she would do it. If she could resolve the situation, then all would be well. If Delbert was finished with her, then she would know and move on.

She never liked to dwell on such things.

To be continued.