The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Swept Under the Rug by Jennifer L. Hart Page A
Authors: Jennifer L. Hart
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treat my marriage as a priority.”
“Mrs. Phillips, I’m going to be blunt here. While you may seem sincere now, I predict that every session will be a battle and frankly, there are easier ways to spend my days.”
What, my money wasn’t green enough for him? I took a deep breath, sucking frigid oxygen all the way down to my toes. “Neil wants this and I want Neil to be happy and I’m willing to do anything to get us there.”
“Fine,” Dr. Bob snapped. “I’ll pencil you in for 10 AM tomorrow.”
I flipped through my mental to-do list. “Oh, no Dr. Bob I have a—”
“10 AM if you’re serious, Mrs. Phillips. If you don’t show up, I’ll know otherwise.” A distinctive click had me gaping at the phone.
What a control freak! Doubts surfaced about my resolution but I shoved them to the dark recess of my brain. I’d made a decision and would stick with it, no matter what.
Okay, next on the priority list came Marty, but I didn’t feel up to another round. While my cell phone was out I scrolled through the contact list, feeling a bit like Earl, trying to improve my Karma by righting my many wrongs.
“This is Leo, leave me a quickie and I’ll tap you back.” I giggled at the tinny recording and cleared my throat before the beep.
“I’m sorry, Leo. I was being a twit. What I should have said is that I’m very happy for you and Richard. There, I’m going to shut up before I stick my foot back down my gullet. Love you. Oh this is Maggie, by the way.”
There. Despite the frostbite, I was starting to feel better. Undoubtedly, Sylvia would come around and Leo would forgive me. I still had no idea what, if anything, to do about the dead bird, but there was no frigging way I would drag Detective Capri into it without an okay from the Valentinos.
Neil’s truck pulled to a stop in our driveway—Marty had moved the RV up enough so we could park off the street—and Kenny scrambled out, followed by a more somber Josh.
“Hey you guys!” I greeted them. “You wanna help mom with some self-improvement?”
Kenny eyeballed me, a wary expression in his green gaze. “You’re not gonna make us eat bean curd again are you?”
Sylvia had given me a Vegan cookbook for Christmas which really is an oxymoron; since from what I’d seen, the Vegans don’t really cook so much as prepare various greens. Dutifully, I’d invited Sylvie and Eric over to sample the result. I shuddered at the memory. After they left, Neil had picked up a pizza.
“Not in this lifetime, Sport. I wanna start an exercise regime. You guys are all fit and I need some pointers.”
Now Neil was shooting me a squinty-eyed glare. “What gives?”
“I’m just trying to make my health a priority is all.” I huffed.
Josh laughed. “Dad said you don’t like Uncle Marty’s new girlfriend.”
“We just met,” I hedged. “I don’t know her well enough to decide if I like her or not.” Though I was strongly leaning towards or not.
We trudged up the front steps. Neil grinned, probably at the astuteness of our oldest son. “What kind of exercise are you thinking about Uncle Scrooge?”
“Well I tried jogging the other day, but I didn’t make it very far.” Understatement of the year.
“You have to get a rhythm going for jogging.” Neil knocked his boots against the doorframe in an effort to shake loose some of the crusted-on salt and grime. Kenny and Josh didn’t bother, just kicked their shoes on the runner. “That’s why military formations always chant as they run. Maybe you could try listening to music while you exercise.”
“You can borrow my iPod if you want.” Josh volunteered. “I have an armband carrier you could wear. I’ll even make you a Playlist.”
I shucked my jacket. “Thanks Scamp, but I doubt I’ll like your music.” Josh listened to rap, which was not my cup of tea.
“No, I meant a Playlist with your music. Dad had me transfer all of your CD’s into iTunes, so it’ll just be a matter of
“Mrs. Phillips, I’m going to be blunt here. While you may seem sincere now, I predict that every session will be a battle and frankly, there are easier ways to spend my days.”
What, my money wasn’t green enough for him? I took a deep breath, sucking frigid oxygen all the way down to my toes. “Neil wants this and I want Neil to be happy and I’m willing to do anything to get us there.”
“Fine,” Dr. Bob snapped. “I’ll pencil you in for 10 AM tomorrow.”
I flipped through my mental to-do list. “Oh, no Dr. Bob I have a—”
“10 AM if you’re serious, Mrs. Phillips. If you don’t show up, I’ll know otherwise.” A distinctive click had me gaping at the phone.
What a control freak! Doubts surfaced about my resolution but I shoved them to the dark recess of my brain. I’d made a decision and would stick with it, no matter what.
Okay, next on the priority list came Marty, but I didn’t feel up to another round. While my cell phone was out I scrolled through the contact list, feeling a bit like Earl, trying to improve my Karma by righting my many wrongs.
“This is Leo, leave me a quickie and I’ll tap you back.” I giggled at the tinny recording and cleared my throat before the beep.
“I’m sorry, Leo. I was being a twit. What I should have said is that I’m very happy for you and Richard. There, I’m going to shut up before I stick my foot back down my gullet. Love you. Oh this is Maggie, by the way.”
There. Despite the frostbite, I was starting to feel better. Undoubtedly, Sylvia would come around and Leo would forgive me. I still had no idea what, if anything, to do about the dead bird, but there was no frigging way I would drag Detective Capri into it without an okay from the Valentinos.
Neil’s truck pulled to a stop in our driveway—Marty had moved the RV up enough so we could park off the street—and Kenny scrambled out, followed by a more somber Josh.
“Hey you guys!” I greeted them. “You wanna help mom with some self-improvement?”
Kenny eyeballed me, a wary expression in his green gaze. “You’re not gonna make us eat bean curd again are you?”
Sylvia had given me a Vegan cookbook for Christmas which really is an oxymoron; since from what I’d seen, the Vegans don’t really cook so much as prepare various greens. Dutifully, I’d invited Sylvie and Eric over to sample the result. I shuddered at the memory. After they left, Neil had picked up a pizza.
“Not in this lifetime, Sport. I wanna start an exercise regime. You guys are all fit and I need some pointers.”
Now Neil was shooting me a squinty-eyed glare. “What gives?”
“I’m just trying to make my health a priority is all.” I huffed.
Josh laughed. “Dad said you don’t like Uncle Marty’s new girlfriend.”
“We just met,” I hedged. “I don’t know her well enough to decide if I like her or not.” Though I was strongly leaning towards or not.
We trudged up the front steps. Neil grinned, probably at the astuteness of our oldest son. “What kind of exercise are you thinking about Uncle Scrooge?”
“Well I tried jogging the other day, but I didn’t make it very far.” Understatement of the year.
“You have to get a rhythm going for jogging.” Neil knocked his boots against the doorframe in an effort to shake loose some of the crusted-on salt and grime. Kenny and Josh didn’t bother, just kicked their shoes on the runner. “That’s why military formations always chant as they run. Maybe you could try listening to music while you exercise.”
“You can borrow my iPod if you want.” Josh volunteered. “I have an armband carrier you could wear. I’ll even make you a Playlist.”
I shucked my jacket. “Thanks Scamp, but I doubt I’ll like your music.” Josh listened to rap, which was not my cup of tea.
“No, I meant a Playlist with your music. Dad had me transfer all of your CD’s into iTunes, so it’ll just be a matter of
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