The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Swept Under the Rug

Irma’s, I wanted to whine. I held my tongue though, since Neil’s missing lunch was due to my need to investigate the dead bird and my brother’s appearance.
    “It’s good to try new things.” My face felt stiff as I said the words.
    “How ‘bout I cook and you take a break?” Penny said and my spine stiffened. There were three things in life that I was proprietary about to the point of hoarding. My husband, my romance novels and my kitchen. Leo was the only person I allowed to cook in my kitchen because he respected my system.
    “Sounds like a plan,” Neil said and smiled at Penny, who smiled back. I looked at my brother’s pregnant girlfriend and felt our string of friendship snap like worn out dental floss.

Six

    T he ringing telephone jarred me awake the next morning. I rolled off the air mattress and my knees hit the living room carpet eight inches below. Neil groaned, as the motion had jostled the bed, and then rolled over. It had been a lousy night for both of us. I’d been in a mood before dinner and the fact that Penny’s meatloaf was truly fabulous, only soured it further. Josh, the little wisenheimer, had indeed made me a Playlist for my exercise regime, dubbed Mom’s Old Fogy Music. Dire Straits is not fogy music.
    I scrambled for the kitchen and picked up in the middle of the third ring. The clock on the stove read 5:58. “Hello?”
    “Mrs. Phillips?” This is Mrs. O’Toole. We’re calling in the phone tree, for a two hour delay.” Mrs. O’Toole seemed as perturbed by the early hour as I did. The Superintendent of our district was a nut, afraid that Big Brother was watching his every move and refused to upgrade to an automated emergency system. So we had to do the phone tree thing in alphabetical order every stinking time there was a snow delay. To top it off, he always put us on a two hour delay first, even if Rudolph was needed to see through the soup, so we had to do it twice.
    “Do you know who your contact person is?” Mrs. O’Toole grumped.
    “I’ve got the Prescott’s number memorized.” And on speed dial number four in case, like this morning, I didn’t have my coffee yet.
    “Talk to you at eight.” Mrs. O’Toole hung up.
    I called the Prescott residence, relayed the message and shuffled down to the boys’ room to turn off their alarm clocks.
    Kenny, a very light sleeper, blinked up at me as I clicked his radio off. “Wha…?”
    “Go back to sleep, pal.” I murmured and backed out of the room.
    I yawned and headed toward the coffee maker, stopping short to see my husband already filling the pot.
    “What are you doing up?” Since it was Wednesday, Neil didn’t need to be in until two for his four hour shift.
    “Thought I’d head to work early, see if I could catch a little more overtime this week.”
    “Oh,” I said. While his explanation made sense, I hated any extra time Neil spent at work. We’d missed out on a great deal of together time while he was career navy and though his current job was less demanding, I still felt cheated when he wasn’t around.
    “What’s on your agenda for the day?” He asked while scooping grounds into the coffee filter.
    Not wanting to mention the make-up Dr. Bob visit, I struggled for something else to tell him. “I have a cleaning job at noon. New client over on Rosewood lane.” I hastened to add at his scowl.
    His expression cleared a bit. “Do me a favor and beg off any more jobs at the Valentino’s for a bit, okay? That bird was a warning and for them and the whole situation gives me a chill.”
    “Me too,” I agreed, hoping he wouldn’t notice that I hadn’t promised anything. While I never lied to Neil, I did sometimes leave out information, for his own peace of mind, of course. I wasn’t due back at the Valentino’s ‘til Friday afternoon anyhow.
    “Are you still looking for a new cleaning partner?” Neil queried as he retrieved the Frosted Flakes from the pantry. I swear the man eats like an eight year old.
    “I’m not sure,” I answered as I watched him dump four tablespoons of sugar on his ½ cup of cereal. And the crazy part was he’d never had a cavity in his life. “I’m only working about twenty hours a week at this point and the schedule is erratic. It’s hard to find an employee who’ll put up with that.”
    “Why don’t you ask Penny? She might help you out.” Neil dumped milk over his tooth-decay-in-a-bowl.
    Was he serious? “If you’ll recall, I’ve tried the pregnant