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

“There is something going on with them, I can feel it. First the fax about the Phoenix and then the charred bird.”
    “You could notify P.E.T.A about the bird, maybe they can do something, but if Mr. Valentino wants the matter dropped, my hands are tied.”
    I blew air between my lips, attempting to get my hair out of my face. “You told me to trust my instincts. Well, they’re screaming that all is not well here. Somebody used my logo to deliver a nasty message, bringing me into the fray.”
    “Maggie, I’m telling you to back off. If Valentino finds out you’re making a stink about this, he might sue you for slander.”
    Crap, I hadn’t thought about that possibility. Bad enough Marty had me fretting over being stiffed by new clients. To top that off, it was getting into tax season and since I was self-employed, I’d have to pay for my earnings, pitiful though they may have been last year. I really couldn’t afford a lawsuit.
    “Fine,” I said. “I’ll let it go, but I swear to you something is going on with them.”
    Capri offered me a stiff smile. “Noted. Now, I think you’d better get going if you want to be on time to pick up your kids.”
    “No school today, due to the snow,” But I took the hint anyway.
    Marty was seated by the check-in desk and I noticed the Stegosaurus from calamity’s past smirked at me as I collected my brother.
    “Can we stop at the store?” Marty asked as I pushed my way out into the frigid afternoon air.
    “Which store and what are you after?” Knowing his agenda ahead of time solved many problems since there was a history of Marty realizing he’d misplaced his wallet while we held up the check-out line. .
    “I was thinking Wal-Mart, I need to get Penny some gloves and warm socks.”
    I sighed. My day was crappy enough without adding a trip to Wal-Mart into the mix. In its inception, Wal-Mart was a great idea, the first real buy anything at any time store. Unfortunately, the hunt for a great deal brought out the viciousness in people and buying a pack of toilet tissue usually resulted in several bruises on my person as well as raised blood pressure. “She can borrow anything of mine that she needs.” I told Marty even as I merged with traffic migrating toward the superstore.
    “How about underwear?” Marty raised an eyebrow.
    “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Besides, I should restock some of my cleaning supplies.”
    “Thanks, sis.” Marty grinned at me.
    “Do me a favor and call the house. Ask if anyone needs anything, since we’re going.” Some jack-ass in a Sienna barreled through the red light at the intersection and I simultaneously slammed on my breaks and pounded the horn. “What’s your problem, pal!” I shouted, even though it was fourteen degrees outside and my windows were rolled up. The vehicle kept moving at its bat-outta-hell speed. Where were Hudson’s finest when you needed ‘em?
    I proceeded through the light to the cadence of annoyed horns from every direction. Superb day, all around.
    Marty spoke to whoever had answered on the house phone. I couldn’t help but note we were on Broad Street traveling South past Forestvale Cemetery and would soon be approaching Technology Drive, which wound uphill to Intel. Part of me wanted to cruise the parking lot in hopes of spotting Neil’s truck, and had I been alone I might have succumbed to the impulse. However, with Marty in the car to witness my actions, the notion lost its appeal. I merged onto 85 South and wound my way into a parking space.
    Marty snapped my phone closed. “Nobody needs anything.”
    Of course not. Nobody would need anything from the store until five minutes after I’d unpacked the purchases. Then, I’d be hit with a bevy of, “Hey Mom why didn’t you get more….?
    The Hudson Wal-Mart was not a Supercenter, which meant I’d have to make another stop for groceries. “Make it fast, Sprout and remember whatever you buy we have to fit into the car.”
    Marty nodded and was off. Having left my coupon book at home, I decided to forgo the cleaning supplies on this trip. Instead, I browsed a display of coolers and outdoor furniture, (jumping the seasonal gun a bit weren’t they?) but my thoughts were on Neil. With a bit of distance, I realized there could be a perfectly acceptable reason why he had lied to me about the overtime. In retrospect, I should have picked up on the lack of extra money in our account, since I was the financial guru in our house, even