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

watching his taillights disappear.
    I opened the envelope and blinked. Cripes, that was a wad all right. The aforementioned letter was in there as well, a glowing reference from one of the area’s top businesses. Between the two, I could set up a slew of gigs to keep Marty employed full-time and branch out into other offices. There would be a nest egg for my little niece or nephew and plenty left over to narrow the financial gap for our family’s needs. Neil wouldn’t have to work so much overtime. The thought of having him home more was the greatest temptation.
    The dream of Candie chained to the boiler haunted me as I trudged up the steps and pondered my next move.
    * * * *
    “Wait, wait, back up a minute. You got in the car with him?” Neil was seated across from me in a booth at our favorite pub. Despite having worked a fourteen hour day, he’d arrived as if fresh from the shower. I, who actually was fresh from the shower, had already dripped some nacho cheese onto my dark blue cable-knit sweater. Damn tricksy appetizers.
    I took a pull off my light beer and grimaced. Since I hadn’t finished my exercise regime, I denied myself a full calorie beverage. That alone should teach me not to get into the car with strange men, Marty aside. “I know it was stupid, but—”
    “No excuses, Uncle Scrooge!” Neil raised his voice, but the place was busy with the Saturday night crown and no one glanced our way. “You tell me you know your actions were thoughtless and then try to reason through it! Like any justification is enough of a reason for putting yourself in harm’s way!”
    “Simmer down, Neil. I promise; it won’t happen again.” I reached for his hand across the table and twined my fingers with his. This was not the scenario I’d imagined while scouring the bathroom floor earlier today. And I had no one to blame except for my big, fat, mouth. Couldn’t I have waited till desert to tell him about the encounter with Valentino?
    He scrubbed his free hand across his face and sighed audibly. “Maggie, I’ll admit you were right about the fax. Valentino’s got something going on and I seriously doubt he’s been completely upfront with the feds. I understand you are worried about Candie, but please accept that you can’t do anything here. You need to stop painting a target on your ass. I’m begging you, stay out of the investigation.”
    “What about the money?” I whispered, feeling dirty just considering holding on to it.
    Neil shrugged and leaned back in his seat. “I believe you’ve earned it. What you do with it is your call.”
    Our entrees arrived then, a chicken Caesar salad for me and a ½ lb burger with the works for Neil. I snitched a fry and chewed, while mulling over Neil’s position. Undoubtedly, my actions would give him an ulcer, but I needed to see Valentino one more time, if only to return the money. Despite what my husband said, I couldn’t justify keeping the windfall, no matter how tempting. My mother would have applauded my ethics, even if I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet for refusing a hefty boon.
    “Tell me about the luncheon. Did you ever find out why my mother dragged you there?” He bit into his burger with relish and I tried not to envy his choice. Or snatch it out of his hands.
    “How’s work going?” I changed the subject while dosing my salad with the pitiful side cup of dressing. Man alive, they were stingy with the condiments.
    Neil swallowed and set his food down. “Spill, Uncle Scrooge.”
    I rolled my eyes. “You know how she is, always trying to hold a mirror up to my face and pointing out the flaws. The luncheon was a visual aide, to illuminate all of my deficiencies.” Speaking of which…. “Why the hell did you tell her we’re seeing a counselor? She blindsided me with that little nugget and I almost crashed the car on purpose, just to get her to back off.”
    “There’s no shame in therapy, Uncle Scrooge. I had to deal with a shrink every time I came back from a hairy mission, sometimes for months. It’s not fun, but it can help, if you let your guard down. And you’re not deficient. My mother views life differently and she’s convinced her way is the only one.”
    My knee bounced frantically under the table. “I still don’t like the world thinking there is something wrong in our marriage.”
    I’d hoped Neil would assure me there wasn’t anything wrong between us, that we were hunky-dory. He didn’t say a word as he