The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Swept Under the Rug by Jennifer L. Hart
Authors: Jennifer L. Hart
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britches out here and I’ve had a bear of a day and I won’t be able to sleep on my ancient air mattress tonight till I see for myself that you’re all right.”
The door opened a crack and I sighed in relief. Stepping inside, I hugged Sylvia before my brain registered what I’d seen. Her blond locks were pulled back in a sloppy pony-tail, highlighting her gauntness. She wore a grubby T-shirt covered by humongous overalls and a determined expression that I’d never seen on her typically serene features. After shutting out the cold she turned to face me, hands on hips, but made no move to invite me in further
“I’m kind of in the middle of something right now. This isn’t a good time to visit.” Sylvia’s right foot tapped and she practically vibrated with nervous energy.
“What are you doing and how can I help?” I shucked my jacket and rolled up my sleeves in a gesture of solidarity. I’d pooched the encounter with Eric and possibly made things much worse for her, and I was prepared to make amends.
Sylvia sighed and dropped her chin to her chest. “Maggie, go home.”
“Not until you let me apologize.” I stated stubbornly. “I was going to make you my classic I’m sorry casserole, but it’s got sausage in it and I know you wouldn’t eat it.” Sylvia was a vegan and card carrying member of PETA.
“While I appreciate the half-assed gesture, you don’t have anything to apologize for. You weren’t screwing Eric in the ball room.”
“No, but I made a scene and I figured I’d brought more attention to your situation then you wanted, especially at your place of employment.”
Sylvia didn’t say anything, just stared down at her paint-spattered boots.
“Are you remodeling?”
Her ponytail bobbed as she shook her head. “I’m applying the principles of Feng Shui to the house.”
“Didn’t you already have it all Feng Shui-ed?” I asked.
Her gaze darted to mine for a moment then out the window. “That was for mine and Eric’s home. Now it’s just my house and I need positive energy to improve my Chi.”
I had no idea what to say. I’d been prepared to be a shoulder to cry on or share a drink and rail about cheating bastards but Chi was out of my realm of understanding.
“So, put me to work. You want to move a sofa or dresser? Marty’s in town and Neil will be back soon—”
“Maggie, stop.” Sylvia held up her hand in a hold-it-right-there gesture. “I just want to be alone for a little while, okay?”
Stung, I nodded and donned my coat again. “Please call me if you need anything .”
“I will,” Sylvia offered me a ghost of her usual smile and I left before I started to cry. What a screwed-up day.
Deflated, I headed back to my house. Thoughts buzzed like pissed-off bees inside my skull, nattering on about what a lousy friend/wife/sister I had become. Was it my curse to disappoint the people I loved time and again?
“Shut up,” I growled at myself. Mental flagellation didn’t accomplish anything. What I needed was to form a proactive plan. Set a goal and strive for it as well as prioritize my life.
When I started thinking about it that way, the task didn’t seem so daunting. Neil and my marriage came first. Dr. Bob may be a tool, but he might be a useful tool, if applied correctly. My course set, I huddled in the relative shelter on the garage and dialed my freshly charged cell phone. Dr. Bob answered his own phone on the first ring.
“This is Maggie Phillips. I was wondering if I could maybe come back in at some point this week to continue our session?”
Silence reigned for the span of several heartbeats. “What for?” Dr. Bob asked, bewilderment cutting through the static on my end of the line.
Spit it out and move on with life. My mother’s voice comes to me every so often, usually when I’ve hit an emotional wall. I’ve made it a habit to listen to her as she always protects my interests. “I’ve done some thinking and I realize that I need to
The door opened a crack and I sighed in relief. Stepping inside, I hugged Sylvia before my brain registered what I’d seen. Her blond locks were pulled back in a sloppy pony-tail, highlighting her gauntness. She wore a grubby T-shirt covered by humongous overalls and a determined expression that I’d never seen on her typically serene features. After shutting out the cold she turned to face me, hands on hips, but made no move to invite me in further
“I’m kind of in the middle of something right now. This isn’t a good time to visit.” Sylvia’s right foot tapped and she practically vibrated with nervous energy.
“What are you doing and how can I help?” I shucked my jacket and rolled up my sleeves in a gesture of solidarity. I’d pooched the encounter with Eric and possibly made things much worse for her, and I was prepared to make amends.
Sylvia sighed and dropped her chin to her chest. “Maggie, go home.”
“Not until you let me apologize.” I stated stubbornly. “I was going to make you my classic I’m sorry casserole, but it’s got sausage in it and I know you wouldn’t eat it.” Sylvia was a vegan and card carrying member of PETA.
“While I appreciate the half-assed gesture, you don’t have anything to apologize for. You weren’t screwing Eric in the ball room.”
“No, but I made a scene and I figured I’d brought more attention to your situation then you wanted, especially at your place of employment.”
Sylvia didn’t say anything, just stared down at her paint-spattered boots.
“Are you remodeling?”
Her ponytail bobbed as she shook her head. “I’m applying the principles of Feng Shui to the house.”
“Didn’t you already have it all Feng Shui-ed?” I asked.
Her gaze darted to mine for a moment then out the window. “That was for mine and Eric’s home. Now it’s just my house and I need positive energy to improve my Chi.”
I had no idea what to say. I’d been prepared to be a shoulder to cry on or share a drink and rail about cheating bastards but Chi was out of my realm of understanding.
“So, put me to work. You want to move a sofa or dresser? Marty’s in town and Neil will be back soon—”
“Maggie, stop.” Sylvia held up her hand in a hold-it-right-there gesture. “I just want to be alone for a little while, okay?”
Stung, I nodded and donned my coat again. “Please call me if you need anything .”
“I will,” Sylvia offered me a ghost of her usual smile and I left before I started to cry. What a screwed-up day.
Deflated, I headed back to my house. Thoughts buzzed like pissed-off bees inside my skull, nattering on about what a lousy friend/wife/sister I had become. Was it my curse to disappoint the people I loved time and again?
“Shut up,” I growled at myself. Mental flagellation didn’t accomplish anything. What I needed was to form a proactive plan. Set a goal and strive for it as well as prioritize my life.
When I started thinking about it that way, the task didn’t seem so daunting. Neil and my marriage came first. Dr. Bob may be a tool, but he might be a useful tool, if applied correctly. My course set, I huddled in the relative shelter on the garage and dialed my freshly charged cell phone. Dr. Bob answered his own phone on the first ring.
“This is Maggie Phillips. I was wondering if I could maybe come back in at some point this week to continue our session?”
Silence reigned for the span of several heartbeats. “What for?” Dr. Bob asked, bewilderment cutting through the static on my end of the line.
Spit it out and move on with life. My mother’s voice comes to me every so often, usually when I’ve hit an emotional wall. I’ve made it a habit to listen to her as she always protects my interests. “I’ve done some thinking and I realize that I need to
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