The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag (9 page)

While Marty loaded the rest of our gear, I filled out an invoice and walked it over to Ben. He took one look at the total and sucked in a breath. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Um, no.” My prices were very reasonable and I’d never had any complaints about my results. Sometimes being a neat freak was a benefit.

“Shit, Lucas can’t afford this. He still owes me fifty bucks.”

“Mr. Sloan asked me to clean the entire house, which I did. He knew what my hourly rates were before I showed up today.” I made an effort not to sound defensive, but Ben’s scowl told me it didn’t work.

“Whatever lady, I’m just saying this is more than I make for two and a half hours of real work.”

Dickhead.
I could have gone into the whole breakdown of supplies, insurance, my partner’s fee—which I would set aside in a secret account for him until after the baby arrived—but why bother? “Have a nice day.” I said instead and hurried back to the car.

“What was that all about?” My brother asked as I turned the engine over.

“Another satisfied customer.” I sighed and glanced over to Marty. He had a bit of fuzz stuck in his short hair and he hadn’t bothered to shave. “The guy balked at the bill. Fortunately, he’s not the one who’s supposed to pay us.” We cruised around the Cul-de-sac and headed back to the main road.

“He didn’t pay you?” Marty fidgeted with the temperature controls and I slapped his hand.

“Give it a sec, it’ll warm up. It wasn’t his house, Marty. Don’t worry; I have an arrangement with the other Mr. Sloan. ”

“You should get the money upfront.”

I sighed. “Sprout, no one is going to pay their cleaning service upfront, especially not a new client who has yet to inspect the job.”

“But what happens if that guy tries to talk his brother into stiffing you?” Marty would not let the subject drop. “I mean, what would you do then?”

My first impulse was to answer that I’d send Neil over to persuade the guy to change his mind. I flinched, my thoughts skirting away from Neil as they had done all afternoon. “Probably threaten to take him to small claims court.” I said instead. “After what the guy has been through with a divorce and a child custody battle, he’d probably rather cough up the money than have another reason to go to court.”

“I still say it’s risky. One of these days, you’re gonna get burned.”

I slammed on the breaks and we jerked to a stop six feet before the stop sign. Marty’s words had reminded me of the cut and paste fax. “The Phoenix is rising, you’re gonna get burned,” I muttered.

“What?” Marty asked.

“Never mind.” After the reading I’d done on the myth of the Phoenix, I knew the bird symbolized rebirth and eternal life. The Greeks and Ancient Egyptians also believed it was connected to the sun god, who enjoyed its song and unique status, for there could only be one alive at any given time. According to myth, the bird lived from anywhere from 500 to over 1000 years and that when it felt the breath of Death hovering, it would build its own funeral pyre and be swallowed by the flames. A new Phoenix would then rise from the ashes of the blaze to start the cycle all over again.

Although everyone else believed the note was some type of kinky foreplay, I’d seen fear on both of the Valentinos’s faces. Discounting that theory,
the Phoenix is rising
would probably refer to the rebirth part of the myth. The
you’re gonna get burned,
however, made no sense. Other than in the X-Men character, the Phoenix was not portrayed as violent or vengeful. Several of the articles I’d uncovered had even stated that the bird possessed healing powers. And there was still no explanation for the charred hawk.

“We’re gonna make a quick trip to the police station.” I told my brother and made an illegal U-Turn at the next light.

Chapter Eight

“Maggie,” Detective Capri’s expression was pained. “I’ve yet to reach either of the Valentinos. They haven’t filed a report, so I’m without evidence to pursue.”

Same old song and dance. “There is something going on with them, I can feel it. First the fax about the Phoenix and then the charred bird.”

“You could notify P.E.T.A about the bird, maybe they can do something, but if Mr. Valentino wants the matter dropped, my hands are tied.”

I blew air between my lips, attempting to get my hair out of my face. “You told me to trust my instincts. Well, they’re screaming that all is not well here. Somebody used my logo to deliver a nasty message, bringing me into the fray.”

“Maggie, I’m telling you to back off. If Valentino finds out you’re making a stink about this, he might sue you for slander.”

Crap, I hadn’t thought about that possibility. Bad enough Marty had me fretting over being stiffed by new clients. To top that off, it was getting into tax season and since I was self-employed, I’d have to pay for my earnings, pitiful though they may have been last year. I really couldn’t afford a lawsuit.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll let it go, but I swear to you something is going on with them.”

Capri offered me a stiff smile. “Noted. Now, I think you’d better get going if you want to be on time to pick up your kids.”

“No school today, due to the snow,” but I took the hint anyway.

Marty was seated by the check-in desk and I noticed the Stegosaurus from calamities past smirked at me as I collected my brother.

“Can we stop at the store?” Marty asked as I pushed my way out into the frigid afternoon air.

“Which store and what are you after?” Knowing his agenda ahead of time solved many problems since there was a history of Marty realizing he’d misplaced his wallet while we held up the checkout line.

“I was thinking Wal-Mart; I need to get Penny some gloves and warm socks.”

I sighed. My day was crappy enough without adding a trip to Wal-Mart into the mix. In its inception, Wal-Mart was a great idea, the first real buy anything at anytime store. Unfortunately, the hunt for a great deal brought out the viciousness in people and buying a pack of toilet tissue usually resulted in several bruises on my person as well as raised blood pressure. “She can borrow anything of mine that she needs.” I told Marty even as I merged with traffic migrating toward the superstore.

“How about underwear?” Marty raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Besides, I should restock some of my cleaning supplies.”

“Thanks, sis.” Marty grinned at me.

“Do me a favor and call the house. Ask if anyone needs anything, since we’re going.” Some jackass in a Sienna barreled through the red light at the intersection and I simultaneously slammed on my breaks and pounded the horn. “What’s your problem, pal!” I shouted, even though it was fourteen degrees outside and my windows were rolled up. The vehicle kept moving at its bat-outta-hell speed. Where were Hudson’s finest when you needed ‘em?

I proceeded through the light to the cadence of annoyed horns from every direction. Superb day, all around.

Marty spoke to whoever had answered on the house phone. I couldn’t help but note we were on Broad Street traveling South past Forestvale Cemetery and would soon be approaching Technology Drive, which meandered uphill to Intel. Part of me wanted to cruise the parking lot in hopes of spotting Neil’s Escort, and had I been alone I might have succumbed to the impulse. However, with Marty in the car to witness my actions, the notion lost its appeal. I merged onto 85 South and found my way into a parking space.

Marty snapped my phone closed. “Nobody needs anything.”

Of course not. Nobody would need anything from the store until five minutes after I’d unpacked the purchases. Then, I’d be hit with a bevy of, “Hey Mom why didn’t you get more…?

The Hudson Wal-Mart was not a Supercenter, which meant I’d have to make another stop for groceries. “Make it fast, Sprout and remember whatever you buy we have to fit into the car.”

Marty nodded and was off. Having left my coupon book at home, I decided to forgo the cleaning supplies on this trip. Instead, I browsed a display of coolers and outdoor furniture, (jumping the seasonal gun a bit weren’t they?) but my thoughts were on Neil. With a bit of distance, I realized there could be a perfectly acceptable reason why he had lied to me about the overtime. In retrospect, I should have picked up on the lack of extra money in our account, since I was the financial guru in our house, even if I did have to do some math. That I didn’t notice must mean something, but damned if I knew what.

“Hey, Maggie,” I turned around and blinked when I saw Eric. I opened my mouth, but what could I say to him? Making a scene in the gym after he’d been caught in the act was one thing, but I was not about to start screaming at the scum-sucking dickweed in the middle of Wal-Mart. Low though they may be, a girl has to have standards. I compressed my lips together and shot daggers at him with my gaze instead.

“I, um, wanted to apologize for the unpleasantness at the gym the other day and wanted to make sure you knew we valued your family’s membership.”

“Message received.” I turned away in dismissal, but Eric caught my arm.

“The owner fired Sylvia.”

“What?!” I shrieked in outrage. “Why?”

Eric shuffled his feet, unwilling to look me in the eye. “Well, membership has dropped off, what with the economy and all…. And her classes have been less than half full since December. After the incident, he said one of us had to go.”

“So even though the
incident
was your fault, you let her take the fall?” The man was lower than a snake’s belly.

Eric huffed his indignation. “I’m the assistant manager and a full-time employee. It made good financial sense to—”

I held up a hand in his face. “Save it for someone who gives a rat’s ass.”

He hung his head. “She won’t return my phone calls or let me into the house.”

“Can you fault her, really?”

“Get off your high horse, Maggie. Sylvia isn’t perfect and she wasn’t carrying her weight in our marriage. It would have ended sooner or later.”

I blinked. “Are you trying to foist the blame on
her
?” Unbelievable.

Eric studied me a moment before he shook his head. “I see this isn’t getting me anywhere. I’ll leave you alone.” He walked off without a backwards glance.

“Miserable piece of crap,” I muttered and headed for maternity wear, eager to claim Marty and go home. Wal-Mart was just not good for my mental health.

* * * *

“Mom, Grandma called. She said to remind you about lunch tomorrow.” Josh didn’t bother looking up from the computer screen as he relayed the information. I blinked, wondering what lunch he was referring to, before it struck me. “You mean the luncheon?” Dang, Laura’s invitation/order to appear at a society luncheon had completely slipped my mind. Maybe on purpose, but now I was stuck. Laura would chain me in the basement if I cancelled on her without twenty-four hours notice. Our HMO was more understanding.

Flipping through my day planner, I noted my next cleaning job was the Valentino’s on Friday morning. No work excuse for me. Maybe Neil would have an idea how I could get out…. Well, maybe not. Neil and I had bigger issues than his mother commandeering me for a society event.

Penny poked her head around the corner. “I hope you don’t mind, but I made a casserole for dinner, since y’all didn’t have plans.” Her tone belied that she didn’t give a flipping fig if I minded or not. Not that I blamed her, I’d been a bitch-on-wheels ever since she’d arrived. Granted the circumstances were less than ideal, but where was my innate Southern hospitality?

“Sounds great, Penny. When’s your first doctor’s appointment?” Marty had indeed found a decent health plan, which would cover the majority of Penny’s medical bills. We’d set the plan into motion, but the policy had to be reviewed and approved by several faceless pencil-pushers before it went into effect. Of course, I was picking up the tab for it as his current employer, but it was a small price to pay for my niece or nephew’s well being.

“Next Wednesday at 10 AM.” Penny responded as crisply as her honeyed accent would allow.

No excuse there, either. Maybe Marty would run me over with his RV….

“Oh and your friend from next door stopped by.” Penny tossed over her shoulder as she maneuvered her way to the kitchen. I followed, my eyebrows meeting at the bridge of my nose.

“Sylvia stopped over? What did she say?”

Penny shrugged and removed a Caffeine-Free Diet Coke that had somehow made its way into my refrigerator. Extracting a Caffeine-Full Non-Diet Coke, I stared at her, willing her to talk to me.

“Yes. I don’t recall exactly what she said, other than asking you to come over when you had the chance.”

Part of me wanted to leap for the door and find out what was up with my poor, unemployed and soon-to-be-divorced friend. But I shelved the urge, knowing I had something else to do first.

“About before, Penny—”

“Nothin’ doin’,” Penny turned and peeked into the oven checking on her casserole. “Do your boys like tuna? I made a tuna-noodle dish.”

“They’ll eat anything.” I answered, and then tagged on, “Unless it’s Vegan fare.”

Penny closed the oven door and scowled at me. “What about you?”