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Never The Same Again
Part 7
By: Ashley

Shirley tiptoed into the room.  Laverne was there, all right, passed out on the bed in her ratty old purple bathrobe.  An empty box of Scooter Pies and a glass half full of milk and Pepsi sat beside the bed.  She hesitated before she finally spoke.  “Laverne…?”  Nothing.  “Laverne?”  Laverne stirred.  Shirley sat on the edge of the bed.  “Vernie, it’s me,” she said, gently shaking her, “wake up.”     

            Laverne drowsily opened her eyes.  “Shirl?”  And then, she shot straight up in bed.  “SHIRL?!”

            Shirley grabbed her friend and held her tight.  “Oh, Laverne, I’m so sorry.  I’m sorry I wasn’t here and I’m sorry that things had to happen to you and I’m sorry that…”

            Laverne pulled away.  “Wait.  How did you know something happened?”

            “Lenny called me.”

            Laverne’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head.  “Is he crazy?!”

            Shirley could see Laverne was getting angry and quickly tried to placate her.  “No, no – now, he was just concerned about you, that’s all.  He thought I should be here.  And he’s right.”

            “Ya shoulda…” Laverne stopped herself. 

            “I should have what?” Shirley asked.

            “Nothin’.”

            “No, go on, say it.”

            “It was nothin’, Shirl.”

            “Yes, it was.  Now say it.”

            “Wouldja just drop it?”
            “No, no I will not.  I know I should have been here.  I’ll be the first one to admit it.  But Laverne, you know that certain circumstances prevented my…”

            “Yeah, yeah, I know.  I got the note.”

            Good grief she was bitter.  Shirley had to take a moment to collect herself.  “Well, I’m here now.  How are you feeling?”

            Laverne plopped back down onto the pillow.  “I wish I was dead.”

            “Laverne.  Now, don’t say things like that.”

            “But I do, Shirl.  I wish I was dead.  I shoulda died that night.  It would’ve made my life a heck of a lot easier.”

            “Laverne Marie DeFazio, why would you say a thing like that?”  No reply.  “Look … why don’t you let me take you to the doctor, huh?”

            “No.”

            “Well, then, let’s at least go to the police.”

            “No, Shirl!”

            “But why not?!”

            “Because!  I don’t wanna talk about it, okay?  I just wanna pretend like it never happened.”

            “But it did happen and you’ve got to talk about it, or else it’s going to sit inside of you and fester like rotten meat.”

            Laverne turned green.  “Thanks for the visual, Shirl.”

            “Besides, I know this isn’t all you’ve got going on.  Why didn’t you tell me about Edna?”

            Laverne shot straight up again.  “Did Lenny tell you that, too?!”

            “Yes, yes he did.  And…”

            “Boy, fallin’ off the roof all those times musta killed the part of his brain that keeps his mouth shut.”

            “Well, had we all left it up to you, I would have never found out!  Laverne, why would you keep something like that from me?”

            “Why would you care?”

            Shirley cocked her head to one side.  “What?”

            “Look, I would call, and you’d say you were busy, could you call me back later?

  I’d write and maybe a month later, I’d get a letter back – if I was lucky.”

            Shirley stood up.  “Laverne, look at me!  I spent six months throwing up.  I’ve spent the last two having a small child on my bladder and thus, in the ladies’ room.  What do you want from me?”

            “I don’t want nothin’ from you, Shirl.  I just want you like you were.”

            “I’m still the same!”

            “No, you’re not!  You’re married an’ fat an’ ya never write or call.  That’s not the Shirley Feeney I used ta know.  You ain’t the same.”

            Shirley’s glare was icy.  “Well.  Neither are you.”