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

tucked in to his burger. I studied him for a moment, wondering what was brewing in that super-sized brain, when he gestured to my salad.
    “You’re not eating. Is it all right?”
    Crap, nothing was all right, at least anything I’d touched. I was the anti-King Midas, turning everything I contacted into a steaming pile of cow dung. Though I couldn’t claim credit for Candie’s abduction, Eric’s affair, Leo’s piss-poor taste in men, guilt assaulted me on a chromosomal level.
    And I knew Neil’s crazy hours had something to do with me, even if only remotely. “Let’s see if we can get into Dr. Bob tomorrow.” I said before the thought had registered.
    Neil wiped his empty hands on the checked napkin confusion marring his perfect face. “Nice segue. Tomorrow is Sunday; he probably doesn’t have office hours.”
    Damn, I hadn’t thought of that. Normal people were off on weekends.
    My expression must have reflected my disappointment because he smiled reassuringly at me. “I’ll give him a call; see if he might make an exception for us. If not, we’ll do something else, okay?”
    “Sounds like a plan,” I forced a smile and picked at my salad. We didn’t talk much after that; Neil was content to finish his fries and order another drink and I didn’t want to resume fighting stance. I shifted in my seat, seeking to ease my discomfort, but the source was internal. Being with my husband used to ease my frazzled mind, help chill me out, but that reassurance was noticeably absent. I found myself incapable of reading him anymore, like he’d shifted walkie-talkie frequencies and I’d missed the changeover. Too many doubts filled my head. Was Neil having an affair? His odd work schedule, the random stop down the road the other morning and something in his manner of speech, like he chose his words with great care, all pointed to some duplicity. Or was I simply neurotic?
    “Earth to Uncle Scrooge,” Neil snapped his fingers two inches from the end of my nose.
    “What?” My temper showed through furrowed eyebrows.
    “Well, I was going to suggest a game of darts, but since you’re off in Lala land…”
    My spirits lifted. “May I go first?”
    “Do I look stupid to you?”
    I just grinned. “Age before beauty then.”
    There aren’t many things in life I excel at, but playing darts is one of them. I’d actually bilked half a SEAL team out of several hundred dollars back before I’d married Neil.
    “You’re a woman full of contradictions.” Neil scowled at my fifth bull’s-eye. “You’re so uncoordinated; you couldn’t hit water if you fell off an aircraft carrier—”
    “Flatterer,” I threw another dart and the scoreboard lit up like a Christmas tree.
    “But you cream me and every other person you’ve ever gone up against in darts. How is that possible?”
    “Dunno,” My eye trained on the small target, I tossed my final dart, ending the game. “I have good aim, when I concentrate. Most of the time, my head is buzzing with superfluous crap and I don’t pay attention, just stumble into spaz-ville.”
    “With a little more focus, you could have been a great marksman.”
    “Guns freak me out.” I shuddered. “You ready to go?”
    Neil waved to our server and she hustled off to prepare our bill. Since we’d met at the restaurant, we had to drive home separately. For my purposes, the arrangement would be best, as much as I longed to cuddle up next to him in the truck he’d rented while the escort was being serviced, there was something I needed to take care of first.
    “I’m just gonna to stop at the store, get something for breakfast and an extra gallon of milk, for Penny.” I fibbed as he dug out his credit card. Neil smiled.
    “See you at home, then.”
    My heart ached as I donned my coat and headed toward the exit.

Fifteen

    I first noticed the headlights in my rearview mirror after I made the turn into the Valentino’s neighborhood. The vehicle, probably a truck or an SUV from the position of the headlights, was several hundred yards behind me, so I dismissed the nervousness as best I could. Yet after three turns, with the houses situated fewer and farther in between, the lights still pursued me. My cell phone trilled, but I ignored it as I maneuvered my Mini around dark patches of what I assumed to be ice. I needed one of those hands free devices, but even if I’d had one, I would have let the call go to voicemail. My agenda was set; chuck the envelope back at