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

rubbed his face with one hand, his stubble rasping against his palm. “Hell if I know. It might be nice to go a few days without a visit from the law though.”

Ten

    T rue to his word, Neil was up before dawn. Despite my exhaustion, I had a lousy night’s sleep, partly due to the lumpy mattress in Marty’s built-in double bed. The space heater had kept the inside of the camper warm and while the small space had a worn quality to it, I was surprised by how tidy everything seemed. Towels were neatly folded in the cabinet by the bathroom; dishes were clean and stacked in a wire holder next to the mini fridge. The indoor/outdoor carpet still held tracks from a carpet sweeper. Either Marty had turned over a new leaf, or Penny was a pretty decent housekeeper.
    Neil conked his head on the small doorway leading from the bedroom to the living/dining area. “Christ,” he muttered, stuffing his arms into his jacket. I could see the appeal of these things, in spite of the numerous pitfalls. Looking decidedly rugged with a day’s worth of stubble and severe bed head, I imagined touring the continental US with him, waking early to see the sunrise and then hitting the open road. I sat up, still fully clothed.
    “Morning,” I greeted him. He grunted and sat down on the loveseat to lace his boots so all I could see were his denim-clad caves. I guess he hadn’t slept well either.
    “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”
    In theory, I could have gone back to sleep, but what was the point? After flicking off the space heater, I pulled on my own coat. “Not a problem. I think I’ll go jogging after I take the kids to school.”
    Neil nodded absently. “”How are they planning to keep a baby in here?”
    I shrugged. “From what I can tell, Penny, like my brother, doesn’t think very far in advance.”
    “When’s our next meeting with Dr. Bob?” He asked and my esophagus tightened. I’d need to tell him about the ‘homework’ soon. Lord, help me.
    “Next week,” I answered.
    “Just let me know when, so I can be sure to have the time set aside.”
    Deciding a little deep sea fishing expedition was in order, I cleared my throat. “Wow, I’m surprised you’re picking up all this overtime. Someone I spoke to recently mentioned that Intel’s cut way back on overtime.”
    I watched him closely for any reaction, a stiffening of the shoulders or a wary glance, but came up empty when he turned to the door. “I’m somewhat essential to a project the higher-ups are attempting to crank out post haste. I guess I’m exempt from the rules for the time being.”
    I hurried out into the pre-dawn gloom and skidded on the frozen bottom step. Neil steadied me and gripped my arm, so another spaz-attack wouldn’t see me on my butt. I blew a lock of hair out of my eyes and dove back in. “So, you’re doing the same job as always?”
    “What I do isn’t exactly like the daily grind, Uncle Scrooge. Sort of like, yesterday you were cleaning houses and today you’re…?”
    “Running the kids to school, Sylvia to her utility companies and then picking up your mother for a luncheon.”
    “Good one,” Neil shook his head and clomped up the stairs. I scurried in his wake, since his large form broke the wind a bit.
    “I’m serious. Someone in her circle is retiring and she wants me to pick her up for a luncheon.” I lowered my voice as we entered our slumbering house. With no lights on, no smell of coffee, no running feet or cussing mouths, it didn’t feel like home.
    Neil shut and bolted the door behind us. “And you’re going?” His tone was thick with disbelief.
    “She sprung it on me and we’ve been a little harried….” My explanation rebounded off of Neil’s back as he strode toward the bathroom. I could follow him, but I was in desperate need of a caffeine fix. Plus, what was I supposed to say; his mother strong-armed me into attending and I’d been so worried my marriage was falling apart that I’d waited too long to decline?
    I made a super high-octane pot of coffee and listened as the shower started. Go on chicken, he wanted you in there yesterday. That wasn’t my mother’s voice. I should listen anyway, since my imagination was spiraling out of control. Neil had a plausible explanation for his absences; Dr. Bob had been his suggestion, he didn’t mind the thought of me checking his phone for odd numbers—
    “Odd numbers,” I murmured aloud. Neil’s keys, wallet and cell phone sat waiting