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

weight, she rolled off the inflate-a-bed. “What time is it?”
    “Almost six. I’ll drive you over to the electric company’s office as soon as I drop the boys off.”
    Sylvia stood up and teetered a bit. Having no idea how much she’d imbibed the night before, I couldn’t tell if she was hung-over or just tired. “Thanks for the offer, but I can handle it. And thank you for putting me up last night.”
    “Anytime, Sylvie. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. And I’ll advise you to get a shower in before the rest of the house comes alive.”
    She nodded, and winced, as if the small movement pained her. I watched her shuffle off to the bathroom, sorrow curdling in my throat. Seeing her all discombobulated was almost worse than seeing her drunk. Typically, Sylvia was all grace and poise and I didn’t know if Eric or her unemployment was to blame for her current state.
    My mind still churning, I dressed in sweats and retrieved Josh’s iPod, settling it in the little case that strapped onto my arm. I layered in a coat, gloves and earmuffs, which I discard after realizing I wouldn’t be able to use the ear buds while wearing them. The little case didn’t fit over my goose-down jacket, so I abandoned the coat as well. Maybe I’d run faster in order to keep warm.
    Scanning the playlist, I selected Money for Nothing as my warm-up song. As the drum beat blared in my ears, I stretched my calves, hamstrings and rolled my shoulders a bit like the way Neil always did before he hit the treadmill. Proud that I’d picked up a few things whilst ogling, I strode to the front door full of purpose.
    Oh, holy Mary, mother of God, it was cold! I shot a longing glance at my coat, but between jogging and fiddling with the portable music player, I had enough coordination issues to deal with. I carefully made my way down the steps, avoiding icy patches. Thankfully the street was clear and the sand/salt combo spread by the town kept the ice at bay. I headed down the hill in the opposite direction from the last time, wanting to start fresh.
    Without any conscious effort, my footfalls seemed to sync with the tempo of the song. The sun was still below the horizon but the sky grew lighter as I made my way around a bend. Breathing was a challenge and the sensation I was sucking down little daggers with each inhale had me gasping, even though my muscles were raring to go. In through the nose, which seemed to have frozen shut, and out through the mouth. Cripes, how long was this song?
    Slowing to a walk, I unsheathed the iPod and thumbed the little wheel thingy, hoping to find something inspirational. Choosing Better Than Ezra’s A Lifetime , I doggedly stumbled onward. My pace was slower, but the band was right, three and a half minutes really did feel like a lifetime.
    I made it through most of the song before the wheezing grew too insistent to ignore. The song finished and I sought the player again, stopping at the bottom of the hill by the intersection leading out of the neighborhood. Moving off the road, in case a car drove by I thumbed through the list again. What now? Robert Palmer maybe? Or no, that kick-ass Billy Squire song they used on the commercials for Burn Notice. What was it called again?
    Shit, Josh had shown me how to search by artist, but I’d forgotten. I made a few requests from a menu button and spotted an artist menu. I was so busy fiddling that I didn’t notice the car at first. After all, there were plenty of nine year old blue Ford Escorts in the area and some of them even had a Support the Troops magnet on the left rear panel. But it was the other decal, with the Laundry Hag Cleaning Services and my cell phone number that nearly stopped my heart. No, this couldn’t be right. Neil had left our house ten minutes ago. His car should be at least eight miles away by now. He’d said he was late, had hustled off without giving me a kiss goodbye because he was late, damn it. What would he be doing, not even a mile from our house…?
    My vision clouded over and I bent at the waist, struggling with the urge to vomit. He’d just left me, after we’d had so much fun sullying the washing machine, and now he was parked in someone else’s driveway? The double entendre made me gag.
    “Move,” I muttered under my breath. Standing and gawking wouldn’t get me anywhere and the sweat I’d accumulated from my exertion was solidifying on my skin, the cool morning air chilling me to the core. Unfortunately my