The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Skeletons in the Closet

eyes were full of tears anyhow, I began slicing onions.
    My sleepy young-uns emerged and gave the cackling adults disgusted looks. “What’s so funny?” Josh said, hands on hips. He looked so serious, and the combination of the morning cowlick and the reproving tone started us off again.
    Kenny shrugged and went for the cereal. “Adults are so weird.”
    “Hey, boys, eat up and then get dressed. I need your help in the backyard.” Neil smirked in my general direction, shook his head, and made his way out of the house.
    Josh and Kenny groaned in unison, but did as their father bade.
    “Marty, why don’t you give Neil a hand?” I asked.
    He shrugged and followed after Neil.
    “Way to crack the whip, Laundry Hag.” Leo wiped down the counter and basted my bird. “Wait a minute, if you’re the Laundry Hag….”
    “Don’t go there.” I bit off each word, but knew what was coming.
    “Does that mean I’m your Fag? Isn’t the Fag supposed to have the Hag, not the other way around?”
    I rolled my eyes until I could almost see my brain. “No, you’re Laura’s Fag; you’re just on loaner to the Hag for the duration. God, I really hate stereotypes.”
    “You do?” Leo asked with a raised eyebrow.
    “Point taken. Now, this Hag has to make herself presentable. Can you take it from here?”
    “I’ll do my best.”
    With Leo working his magic and the boys all outside, I trundled down the hall. I did my makeup a touch on the conservative side and methodically checked for grays before twisting my hair into an untidy bun and donning my chosen outfit. The black pants were a bit loose, thank heavens, and the shirt was a billowy cut and fell nicely, revealing a tasteful amount of cleavage.
    I believe in playing up my assets.
    I clipped my diamond solitaire around my throat. And noticed the spot. A dime-sized white spot on my shirt directly over my left nipple, which made a noticeable break in both the cobalt and navy horizontal stripes.
    Son of a motherless goat!
    I immediately knew what had happened. There must have been a trace amount of bleach on my hands when I took the top out of the washer to line dry. Damn my anal retentive need to wash before wear!
    Don’t panic, maybe it isn’t so bad .
    I trotted down the hall and presented myself to Leopold.
    “What did you do to your shirt?”
    “Is it that bad?” I chewed on my lower lip.
    “On the grand scheme of things, no, but it does draw attention. Maybe you should wear something else.”
    “I don’t have anything else! My one nice dress is at the dry cleaners, and I can’t show up to Thanksgiving dinner in a T-shirt!”
    “Then we’ll have to work with what we’ve got.” He grabbed my hand and led me into the den. “Where are your permanent markers?”
    “At the store, waiting to be purchased.”
    “You really are a drama queen, you know that.” He sighed and pulled me to the boys’ room. Stepping gracefully over Kenny’s sleeping bag, Leo extracted some Crayola markers from the desk.
    “We have black and a medium blue. That will have to suffice. Now this is washable, so it’s only a quick fix.” He knelt on the floor in front of me and uncapped the black marker.
    I shifted my weight. “Um, maybe I should take the shirt off first.”
    He shook his head. “This material has some spandex in it and it needs to be stretched the way it’s going to be worn or it won’t look right. Now hold still.”
    I held my breath while Leo carefully colored my boob.
    “Hey, Maggie, do you know the timer is….” Neil came to a full stop in the hallway, both in movement and in speech.
    I could easily envision the picture he was beholding.
    “I’m not even going to ask.”

    * * * *
    “Hello, sweetheart.” My father-in-law leaned down to give me a subdued kiss on the cheek. To my knowledge, Ralph called every woman he met sweetheart, from family members to the female wait staff at his club. I gathered it was easier than matching names to cup-size. The sixty-two-year-old lawyer was the quintessential silver fox, oozing charm from every pore, and his casual manner allowed him such liberties. After five minutes with Ralph Phillips, I want to drop to my knees and thank God my husband missed out on the domineering pig gene.
    As usual, Laura sent him a perturbed glance, and I was only a little surprised when the women’s lib speech didn’t ensue. My mother-in-law had bigger fish to fry today.
    “Maggie, what is this I hear about you being arrested?