The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag (17 page)

“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 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, or 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 a 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 spazville.”

“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.

Chapter 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 Valentino, stop at the store so I wouldn’t arrive home empty-handed and avoid another confrontation with Neil. Nothing to discuss with anyone else.

Having never been to the Valentino’s at night, I drove slowly, not wanting to miss the turn. Those damn headlights were gaining and I considered pulling over to let the vehicle pass. Some buried instinct kept my foot on the accelerator. I scolded my imagination for working overtime as I pulled up in front of Valentino’s mansion.

The headlights followed me and an involuntary shudder ripped through my body. I grabbed my tote and climbed from the car. What were the chances that Valentino would receive another visitor at this exact moment, so late at night? Maybe it was the man himself, yet I couldn’t picture Valentino driving anything that big. Eyeing the distance to the front porch, I was set to run when a door slammed behind me. A stream of obscenities caught on the wind along with my name spat like a bitter pill and I spun to face my doom.

“Just going to the store? For chrissakes, Maggie!” Neil thundered as he closed in on me. My mouth opened and shut a few times, but I couldn’t force a sound out. I didn’t realize I was backing up until my butt hit the side of the car. Large evergreens obscured the moonlight and a predator stalked through the shadows. Though Neil would never hurt me physically, I knew I’d pushed him too far.

His hands clamped down on my arms and I winced, even though it didn’t hurt. His eyes blazed with fury as his grip tightened.

“Do you have a goddamned death wish? Why the hell can’t you leave it alone?”

“I have to give him the money back,” I whimpered, but my excuse only enraged him further.

“Mail it to him, then! Fed Ex, UPS, hire a fuckin’ courier for all I care! You have plenty of reasonable options, yet you choose this!”

With muttered expletives he dragged me into his arms. His embrace held more anger than relief, his body trembling at the contact. I remained stiff, waiting for the next wave of rage to knock me on my ass. It didn’t come, and he pulled back, then dragged me toward the open truck door. He’d left the engine on, ready for a swift getaway.

“Wait, my car!” I squealed, but he didn’t slow his forward progress.

“Screw the damn car. It’s a clown car anyway.”

“Hey!” I lashed out with my foot. Nobody insult my Mini—even if he was rightfully beyond furious—and got away with it. The toe of my boot connected with the back of his shin and he grunted, but continued on, undeterred. There was a high probability that once Neil had me in the truck, he’d lock me up for the foreseeable future. I glanced at my car, and at Valentino’s front door, wishing for an out. I squinted at the house; sure my eyes were playing tricks on me.

“Neil, wait—” “Stow it Maggie, I don’t want to hear it.” His words held a warning which I stoutly ignored. “But Neil, I see—” “Get in the truck, Maggie, or I swear I’ll hogtie you in the bed for the ride home.” He was serious, and unaware of what was happening right behind us. “Listen to me, damn it! I think Valentino’s house is on fire.” I blurted before he could toss me headfirst into the cab of the truck.

He blinked twice, his jaw making an awful cracking sound as he ground his molars together and I pointed frantically to the smoke billowing out of the open front door.

“Christ Almighty!” He shoved me into the truck anyway and hollered, “Stay in there and call 911!” before slamming the door with enough force to rock the vehicle and sprinting toward the house.

“No!” I shouted, even as I fished out my cell phone. Punching in the number, I watched my husband mount the steps and push the door open. Smoke surrounded him before he disappeared. God, what was he thinking? We didn’t even know if someone was
inside
the house!

“911, what’s the nature of your emergency?” A dulcet voice queried.

“The Valentino’s house might be on fire and my idiot husband is inside playing hero!” I screeched.

“Might be on fire?” The operator asked.

“There’s smoke coming from the front door.”

“Ma’am, are you within the residence?” She asked the question with a bit more urgency.

“No, I’m outside but my husband just went in.”

“Ma’am I need you to stay away from the structure in question.”

“Of course I’m going to stay outside. Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t have a death wish.”

“Ma’am I need you to calm down and give me an address.”

I rattled it off, my gaze locked on the front door, willing Neil to reappear. Damn his hero complex!

“The fire department is en route. Ma’am, please remain on the line and brief me of any changes. Can you see your husband?”

There was a loud boom as flames shot out of a side window and I yelped. Though my sense of direction sucked, I was sure the blast had originated in the kitchen. The operator asked for an update and I stuttered out some sort of reply.

“Has your husband returned?” She asked again.

“No,” I whimpered. “Please, tell them to hurry.” God, it wouldn’t end like this, would it? Neil furious and suicidally altruistic while I bore impotent witness. Swamped with anxiety, I squeezed the phone tighter.

It seemed an eternity passed before the sounds of sirens pierced the still night. The western side of the house was mottled in flames and Neil still hadn’t emerged. I opened the truck door and flung myself to the ground, going down on one knee in my haste to intercept the firemen. They needed to know Neil was still inside and make finding him a priority. I must have announced my intent to the operator because she nattered on about the need for me to stay out of the way. Snapping the phone closed, I stuffed it in my coat pocket.

“He’s in there; my husband went inside the house!” I shouted as firemen swarmed off the huge engine like angry bees from a disturbed hive. One tall man nodded in acknowledgment and ushered me to the side of

the driveway. “Is anyone else in the building?”

“I don’t know. Please, find him.”

“We’ll do our best, Ma’am. Stay here.” Again I was left without a purpose and I hugged myself, for once able to ignore the cold.

My vantage of the front door wasn’t nearly as good as from the truck, but I felt no desire to obstruct. A prayer left my lips as I observed the activity, the firemen staking out positions around the foundation, some disappearing into the house.

The noise was unbelievable. I’d never thought about what fire sounded like and tears streamed down my face as I thought of Neil and possibly Mr. Valentino deafened and disoriented within the inferno. The lights from the truck parked on the grass reflected off the undamaged portions of siding, casting moving shadows everywhere.

“Come back to me Neil,” I whispered. At that moment, I resolved that no matter what was going on, whatever Neil’s secret might be I’d deal with it as long as he came out alive.

Then, in the flickering light, a figure emerged, and I squinted, endeavoring to adjust my eyesight. The figure appeared oddly misshapen, no wait! He was carrying something. Despite the warning to stay back, I dashed forward, but stopped in my tracks. It wasn’t a fireman carrying Neil as I’d suspected but Neil hauling Valentino over his shoulder. He stumbled a bit and two firemen emerged behind him, taking the unconscious man off his shoulders.

“You stupid fucking hero!” I bellowed and rushed forward.

* * * *

“How come you get to take ridiculous chances with your life and I’m read the riot act for putting a toe out of line?” I huffed at Neil. My husband reeked of smoke and sweat and a streak of soot decorated his jaw, but he was otherwise undamaged. We sat in the cab of his truck, which we’d moved onto the street, along with my Mini, and watched the firemen work. Mr. Valentino had been carted off in an ambulance, still unconscious and probably suffering from smoke inhalation. Neil had taken a few hits from an oxygen mask, but refused any other medical aide. Stupid, stubborn man.