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

patiently in the dish on the entry table, next to my purse. Extracting my phone first, I keyed in latest entries. And yup, I was right, the number I’d found at Sloan’s house was still saved in the memory bank. On impulse I hit send, assuming no one would pick up before the plumber’s butt crack of dawn, but I might glean a little something from voicemail.
    “You have reached Dr. Robert Ludlum, marriage facilitator—” I squeaked and hung up the phone. I knew that number looked familiar, but I hadn’t envisioned Dr. Bob’s involvement.
    To be sure, I picked up Neil’s phone and scrolled through the contact list. Sure enough, Dr. Bob was catalogued and the number matched the one I’d liberated from Sloan.
    It seemed odd to me that Sloan had scribbled Dr. Bob’s number on an envelope next to the phone in the house he moved into after his divorce. As a marriage facilitator—I struggled to wrap my head around that word choice— I’d expect Dr. Bob might have been called in before the lawyers. Sloan’s current address in heartbreak city didn’t bode well for my own marriage.
    “Uncle Scrooge, have you seen my blue shirt?” Neil stood in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his hips. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed his phone in my palm.
    Quickly, I set his phone down and plowed past him to the laundry room. “In here. I moved most of your work clothes onto the drying line last night. More efficient with Marty and Penny sleeping in our room, don’t ya think?” I babbled while rummaging through the hangers then came up with the button-down in question and offered it to him. He didn’t take it. One hand secured his towel and the other pointed his phone at me.
    “What was that all about? You’re being secretive and sneaky and I want to know why.” His mouth was set in a grim line.
    My lips parted, but only a breath of air came out. What to say?
    “Please talk to me, I’m worried about you.” Setting his phone down on the dryer he shut the door and we were plunged into darkness. I reached for a light switch, but he grasped my hand in his own.
    “You are the most difficult person to have a discussion with, you know that?” His breath whispered along my left ear, sending chills down my spine. “Splitting an atom involves less effort than getting some info out of you.”
    “Better get out the water board slick, because I’ve got nothing for you.”
    “Is that so?” A faint fluttering sound and Neil’s towel pooled at my feet. He kissed me and proved that I did in fact have something for him. Smart man and one helluva a multi-tasker.

    * * * *
    “That was so wrong,” I mumbled gazing at my poor, violated washing machine with a satisfied smile. Bet the manufacturer didn’t have that in mind when they offered a five year extended warranty. Were outside vibrations covered under normal wear and tear?
    “What’s wrong is we’re sneaking around like a couple of teenagers in our own house.” Neil bent over to step into his pants and then hissed out a breath.
    “Your shoulder?” I asked. Neil had made a mess of his rotator cuff— during a classified mission he couldn’t tell me about— which was the reason he was no longer part of the SEAL teams.
    Wincing, he straightened and reached around to message the area. “The cold makes it worse.”
    That and hefting his not-so-dainty wife against a major appliance for a solid ten minutes. Guilt made my cheeks burn. No more excuses, I needed to get into shape, for Neil’s sake.
    I helped him ease his shoulder into the blue shirt and did the buttons.
    “Crap, I’m going to be late.” Neil opened the door to the laundry room and gazed at me for a minute. “How about you meet me for dinner tonight? We might as well take advantage of the built-in babysitters. Wherever you want to go.”
    “What time?” I smiled, thinking it had been awhile since we had a date night.
    He shoved his feet into steel-toed boots. “I’ll give you a call later, after I see what my day is shaping up to be.”
    “Sounds great. Call my cell; I’ll be all over the place today.” Sighing, I watched him stride to the car. What a man.
    “You look like a cat that tipped over a milk carton.” Sylvia said from the living room, a note of sadness in her voice.
    “How are you feeling?” I closed the door on Neil and turned to face my friend. The air mattress squeaked as Sylvia scooted forward in an effort to dismount.
    “Like death on a cracker.” Shifting her