The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag (28 page)

BOOK: The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag

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Unfair.
I opened my mouth to speak but coughed violently instead, returning my husband’s focus to me. He poured some water into a plastic cup and inserted a straw into my mouth. “Calm yourself, Uncle Scrooge. You don’t have to make any decisions right now.”

The water was cool going down, soothing my parched throat. “Not her fault.” I croaked. The statement brought forth a new coughing jag.

“I’ll leave. I just wanted to tell you that the City Council voted to honor you at the spring festival next month. We’re all grateful for your...,” I could practically see her swallowing her pride, “sacrifices.”

Neil’s gaze bore into the back of her head as she left. “Cold comfort. A citizen’s award, just ducky.”

“I’ve never received an award before.” I whispered. “To you it’s no big deal, but to me….

Neil sighed and I smiled, glad to know I’d won this round. We’d stay, at least until spring. Warmth, hope a new start. Which reminded me….

“After I’m back on my feet, let’s get a dog for Kenny. And we promised to set Josh up in his own room.”

He shook his head. “We don’t have the space right now, what with Marty and Penny—”

“Yeah, I’ve got an idea about them too….”

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Neil gazed heavenward and flopped back into the chair.

An Excerpt from: The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag: Book 1: Skeletons in the Closet

I pulled on a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of ratty jeans, the comfortable kind with bleach stains marring the denim, and stuffed my hair under one of Neil's SEAL caps. As per Sylvia's suggestion, lunch for the boys was prepared the night before, so I fixed some oatmeal before rousting the kids. Neil was in the shower, so I set about gathering cleaning supplies. Not knowing what the Klines' had in stock, I grabbed a few essentials from my own war pantry. I hadn't cashed the five-hundred dollar check yet, mostly because I still didn't want to go through with this.

Neil sauntered into the kitchen, took one look at me, and grinned. "You really don't want to do this, do you."

It wasn't a question.

Sipping my third cup of coffee, I noticed the tremors in my hands and quickly put it down. "What makes you say that?"

Neil tucked a stray curl behind my ear. "It's either the dark circles under your eyes, or the crazed look in them."

"It'll be fine." I waved him off. "Do I look all right?"

"Couldn't find a maid's uniform?"

That did it.

"You know as well as I do that I'm not a maid! I'm like some kind of peasant woman ordered to clean the great lord's feudal castle. A gnarled old hag, brought out to do the washing and to scrub the blood from the floors! I'm the Laundry Hag!" My arms flailed as I ranted at my poor, put-upon husband, who couldn't seem to wipe the dopey grin off his face.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, searching for the inner calm that had saved me from insanity while Neil was saving the world.

"The Laundry Hag. I like it. It's definitely memorable."

I opened one eye. "What?"

"That should be the name of your business. The Laundry Hag Cleaning Services."

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