The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Swept Under the Rug by Jennifer L. Hart Page B

picking songs with the right tempo.”
    “Uh…,” I had no idea what he meant or even how to work an iPod. I was just a few years past the technologically savvy generation.
    “I’ll show you how to work it.” Neil whispered a smile in his voice. Of course, Neil was older than me but much more in tune with the times. Technology didn’t intimidate Navy SEALs who were trained to disarm a nuclear warhead as well as rebuild an engine. An iPod wasn’t even a blip on Neil’s radar.
    Kenny dumped his backpack on top of his coat and boots and padded down the hall to the fridge. “You got to remember to stretch both before and after you exercise so you don’t injure yourself. And if you really want to get in shape, you need to add some weight-lifting to your routine, too, maybe three times a week. Cardio only burns calories for a few hours, but strength-training burns for up to two days after.”
    I gaped at him as he opened the refrigerator door. “Where did you learn all this?”
    Kenny shrugged, or at least I think he did. It was hard to tell with his head MIA, scrounging for an after school snack. “From Dad.”
    Neil caught my gaze and while he didn’t quite smirk, his expression gloated, see my boys listen to me.
    Of course. The better question was why didn’t I know any of this? To me, physical exertion should have a reward for all the effort. Like baking a cake or scrubbing out the tub. Exercise for the sake of exercise hadn’t appealed to me. And most of the exercise Neil and I engaged in together was not for fitness purposes.
    “How y’all doing?” Penny glided from the hallway, greeting Kenny and Josh with a warm smile. She turned up the heat for Neil and I clenched my molars together.
    Be nice. My mother’s voice cautioned. But still, this tart was eyeing my husband, again and I didn’t like it at all, especially when she was supposed to be with my brother.
    “Where’s Marty?” I stepped in front of Neil and Penny shifted her focus to me.
    “Out in the garage, looking for something he needs to fix the shower in the camper.”
    “Excuse me,” Neil practically shoved me aside in an effort to keep Marty from rearranging his entire tool chest.
    After clearing my throat, I introduced Kenny and Josh to Penny, and then asked the room what they’d like for dinner. Josh shrugged and Kenny murmured an "I dunno." Typical, so I shuffled over to the pantry to search its contents.
    “Can I do anythin’?” Penny drawled from behind me. The g was lost in her accent.
    I closed my eyes; face still buried between the minute rice and Quaker oats. “Just have a seat and keep me company.” I gestured over my shoulder toward the counter and my ugly barstools.
    The boys may not have an opinion about dinner, but I needed comfort food. Meatloaf, my Grandma Irma’s recipe, Mac-n-Cheese and broccoli, to help move all that cholesterol through the body, seemed to be the ticket.
    I grabbed the breadcrumbs and a box of Rotini, which actually holds the cheese sauce better than elbows, and turned around and bumped into Penny. I dropped my armload in an effort to catch her, but she took a graceful step back, absorbing the impact as well as avoiding the mess of breadcrumbs on the floor.
    “Sorry,” I muttered. “I thought you were going to sit down.”
    “I’ve been sitting for days on the drive up here. I wanna move around a bit.”
    “How ‘bout fetching a broom, then?” Shit, my accent was deepening the longer I talked with her. I’d made an effort to lose the southern since most native New Englanders would talk slowly around me after they’d picked up on the accent. At this rate, I’d be y’all-ing by bedtime.
    Penny smiled and asked me where I kept the broom. I pointed to the laundry alcove where my Laundry Hag Commandments plaque hung above the washing machine.
    Neil had outdone himself with the new sign. Before I started my business, Neil and the boys had called me the Laundry Goddess and lived in constant