“The Sunshine of His Mind”

By Shotzette

Rated PG

 

This is only a work of fan fiction and it is not intended to infringe upon anyone’s copyrights or intellectual properties anyhow or anywhere.

 

 

 

 

Lenny Kosnowski held his threadbare blue Hawaiian shirt in front of the mirror and scowled as he compared it to the even more garish yellow and pink shirt in his left hand. 

 

“Hot date?”

 

Lenny’s mouth formed a fine tight line against his imperfect teeth, but he kept his voice steady and his eyes on his never too-attractive reflection.  “You could say that…”

 

His roommate appeared behind him in his reflection, peering over his left shoulder like a cartoon devil encouraging him towards misbehavior and mayhem, but a little angrier looking.  “I just did.  Or, are you going to hang out with Laverne.  Again.”

 

“Walter got into town today and he’s bringing Shirley’s kids over to meet her.  Us,” he corrected himself.

 

Squiggy’s eyes narrowed to twin slits of frozen obsidian.  “I guess his brain got all froze up in Siberia so that he thinks that watching a drunk is a good thing for kids to see.  He and my mother woulda got along great.”

 

Lenny inhaled and forced himself to count to ten, not out loud since that tended to freak people out, but quietly, in his head, before replying.  “Laverne ain’t a drunk no more, Squig.  She quit on Christmas Eve.”

 

“Yeah, and it ain’t even Valentine’s day yet, so I ain’t holding my breath that she still ain’t seeing Jim Bean on the side.  Or Johnnie Walker, or Jose Cuervo, or anyone else she mighta gotten hitched to in the last five years.”

 

Ten wasn’t going to cut it this time, so he counted to fifteen.  “She ain’t drinking, Squig.  She goes to A.A. meetings and everything.”

 

The smaller man rolled his eyes.  “So she says.  Have you ever seen her there?”

 

Lenny shook his head as he decided that the blue Hawaiian shirt was the better choice.  It was older and more threadbare, but the pink and yellow one looked just too fruity to wear to meet an Army guy and four impressionable kids.  “It don’t work that way; they don’t let normal people in to watch.”

 

“So you gotta be a drunk to get in?  How do you know that they just don’t have a big old open bar in these meetings?”

 

“Cause… I just know, that’s all.”  Lenny glanced at the Mickey Mouse clock on the table and was alarmed to see that the little hand was pointing to two.  Since Mickey no longer had a big hand, which is probably why he had been abandoned so cruelly in the dumpster where he and Squiggy had played mouse-heroes one rainy day last spring, that meant that he had to be at Laverne’s apartment sometime between five and fifty-five minutes from now.  “Squig, I don’t wanna get into this with you now.  I promised Laverne that I’d be there by three.”

 

Squiggy nodded knowingly.  “And you’re afraid she’ll be drunk if you ain’t there to watch her?”

 

Lenny didn’t even attempt to count anymore before shouting, “No!”  His nasal voice seemed to bounce off of the chipped plaster walls.  “I wanna be there because I told her that I would be.  And, more important,” he added as he mentally begged his best friend to understand reason for a change, “I wanna meet Shirley’s kids.  Laverne didn’t just invite me, y’know.  You can come too if you want.”

 

Squiggy shrugged, and then looked at the floor quickly.  “Yeah,” he mumbled as he started to walk toward the bedroom door, “Maybe.  Someday.  “

 

“Squig…”

 

Squiggy squared his shoulders.  “It’s not big thing, “ he said with his usual bravado back in full force.  “I’ll probably have lotsa chances to see Shirley’s kids since Walter will be living in San Diego with her Mom for a while.  That is if they survive ‘Aunt’ Laverne.”

 

“Squig, I’m warning you…”

 

Squiggy shook his head sadly as he regarded his friend.  “You big idiot….  I can’t believe you’re falling for this act.”

 

Screw counting!  “It ain’t an act!” Lenny thundered, “Laverne is trying to get her life together and I’m helping her.  She hasn’t had a drink in more than a month now, she got the hot water in her apartment turned back on two weeks ago since she ain’t blowing all of her money on booze…”

 

Squiggy’s eyes darkened further, into something calculating, reptilian.  “Speaking of money, has she paid you back yet?”

 

Lenny glanced away.  “That ain’t important.”

 

Squiggy’s jaw nearly collided with the battered parquet floor.  “She steals your sock money—one hundred smackeroos—right out of our Fridgedaire and it ain’t important?  Didn’t your mother always tell you to always have one hundred dollars in cold cash in case of an emergency?”

 

“Squiggy….” Lenny’s voice held a rarely used tone of warning.

 

Squiggy didn’t even seem to have heard the interruption as he waved his arms in agitated, jerking motions.  “Maybe she shoulda added, ‘but don’t tell your boozehound girlfriend where your money’s hidden’.

 

“That was years ago, Squiggy.  Laverne’s changed; you know that.”

 

Squiggy grabbed Lenny’s forearms as if willing him to see his point of view by brute force.  “People don’t change, Lenny.  Laverne is still the same Laverne and you’re the same Lenny; just jumping like a little puppy hog whenever she snaps her fingers.”

 

Angrily, Lenny wriggled out of his friend’s grasp.  “People do change!  Laverne changed a hell of a lot after Carmine died and even more after Shirley died.  She’s just trying to change back, that’s all.”  Lenny took a deep breath before adding, “I don’t believe that you don’t get it.”

 

Squiggy’s eyes glittered meanly under the flickering fluorescent light.  I’m not the only one not ‘getting it’ since you’re never out late with her.  It don’t look to me like nothing’s changed.”

 

Lenny flushed in embarrassment.  “I ain’t in a hurry to rush her into anything.  Besides, her sponsor told her she should wait until she’s been sober longer than she has been.”

 

“Yeah,” Squiggy said as an ugly sneer crawled across his face, “that sounds really convenient for her.  Have fun, Lenny.  Just make sure that Laverne don’t shake Walter down for booze money or try to get Shirley’s spawns to cough up their milk money.”

 

 

 

 

His hand was on the doorknob before he stopped himself and rang the bell.  He’d started nagging Laverne to be more careful about locking her door since she’d accidentally let it slip that she wasn’t sure how many guys, ex-husbands and strangers, might have keys to her apartment.  He’d insisted on calling a locksmith that very day and shelled out twenty seven fifty of his own money for a new lock for her door.  Squiggy would have just roasted me over the coals for that one.

 

The door swung over before his roommate’s recriminations could replay in his head.  Laverne stood before him; neatly dressed with a broad smile on her face and a slightly manic look in her eye.  “Len!  I’m glad that you made it.  Walter and the kids just got in,” she said too quickly for his comfort.  As she hooked her arm in his and pulled him into the apartment she gestured to the man sitting in the chair by her coffee table and the four children on her couch.  “You remember Walter, Len.  And these are Shirley’s children, Walter Jr.”

 

“Wally,” the tallest boy on the couch corrected her, before returning his gaze to his shoes.

 

“Wally,” Laverne acknowledged, “Billy, Davy, and Joy.”

 

Lenny stifled a gasp and pasted a big smile on his face when he saw the little girl; Joy was the spitting image of her mother at that age.  “Uh, hi, kids.  I’m glad to get a chance to meet you all.  Walter,” he said before extending his hand, “you look better than the last time I seen you.”

 

The man across from him smiled a smile that more resembled a flinch.  “Thanks, Lenny.  It’s good to see you again, too.  Kids, I told you in the car how Laverne and Lenny grew up with your Mom.”

 

The group on the couch looked around the room, as if oblivious to the chattering adults. 

 

“Kids,” Walter said a little more firmly.

 

“Yes, sir,” Wally mumbled back before nudging Billy with his elbow.

 

Walter turned back to Lenny and Laverne.  “They’re still worn out from all the jet lag,” he explained.  “We just flew into LaGuardia from Bonn yesterday, and we’ve been traveling from Russia since Thursday.

 

“You guys must be beat,” Laverne said.

 

“We’re just happy to be back in the U.S. more than anything else.  We just wanted to stop by and see you before settling in at Lillian’s.”

 

“I appreciate that, Walter.  I’m real glad that you sent me the pictures of the kids all these years,” Laverne said with a slight catch in her voice.  “I’d like to see them sometimes, if you’ll let me.”

 

Walter nodded and then looked at her more closely.  He opened his mouth, and then quickly glanced at his children before continuing.  “I’d like that, Laverne, if you’re up to it.  I heard that you’ve been…sick.”

 

Lenny felt his gut clench and instinctively put his hand on Laverne’s shoulder to protect her, as always. “Where’d you hear that, Walter.”

 

Walter blinked at him in apparent surprise.  “All of the letters that Squiggy has written me since…you know.  I’m sorry, Lenny,” Walter added as he shook his head slowly, “I just assumed that the letters were from both of you.”

 

“Walter,” Laverne interjected smoothly,  “I have been …sick—for a while.  But, I’ve been getting a lot better since Christmas.” She took a deep breath before continuing.  “I want to tell you that I ain’t ever gonna be sick again, but I know that’s a promise that I can’t really make.”

 

Lenny inhaled sharply at her words.  Was Squiggy right?  Once a drunk, always a drunk?

 

“I can promise you that I ain’t going to get sick today, Walter,” Laverne continued, “and I’m pretty sure that I won’t get sick tomorrow.”

 

Walter seemed to relax a bit.  “That’s all I can ask, Laverne.  I used to get …sick a lot myself-- years ago, before I met Shirley,” he clarified.

 

“Hey,” Lenny broke in, desperate to break the tension in the room.  “I almost forgot.  I got a couple of gallons of ice cream back in the truck—who likes chocolate?”

 

Four little faces stared at him blankly from the couch.

 

“I think that’s a good idea, Lenny.  Walter said.  “The kids have never had ice cream before; oddly enough, there wasn’t a big demand for it in Siberia.”

 

Lenny’s jaw dropped in shock as he walked back out the door.  “That’s the saddest thing I’ve hard all day.”

 

Moments later, he pushed Laverne’s door ajar having liberated two gallons of chocolate and two boxes of frozen pops from the back of the ice cream truck. 

 

Laverne looked up at him from the couch and grinned her old smile.  She had her old photo album splayed out in front of her on the couch, and had Joy on her lap.  Walter sat at the opposite end of the couch with Davy on his lap while Wally and Billy pointed to the yellowed photographs in the album.

 

“Who’s that?” Joy asked, piping up for the first time. 

 

That,” Laverne said, with a tremor in her voice that only Lenny could probably hear, “is your mom.”  Laverne squinted and looked more closely at the photo.  “I think that she was only a little older than you are now, Joy.  That picture was taken when we had our dance recital at Marjorie Wards back in Milwaukee when we just started kindergarten.  See,” Laverne said as she pointed to a dainty little girl in a baby-blue tutu, “she got to be one of the dancing pixies in the ballet recital.”

 

“Where are you, Aunt Laverne?” asked Wally as he scanned the photos with eyes that were as blue as his mother’s had been.

 

Lenny felt a lump form in his throat as he saw a quick flash of tenderness in Laverne’s eyes at the boy’s question.

 

 “I didn’t do ballet, Wally.  I did tap.  That’s me over there in my frog costume.”

 

Lenny smiled at the tableau in front of him as he quickly rummaged though Laverne’s kitchen cabinets and found a handful of mismatched bowls and cups.  Maybe the cups were better, he thought with a slight frown, if those kids hadn’t ever had ice cream before, the last thing that he wanted was them upchucking all over Walter’s Dodge on the drive down to San Diego.

 

A hand tugging at his pant leg caught his attention and he looked down. 

 

“What’s that?”  Joy asked, as she pointed to the picture of the orange Creamsicle on the box.

 

“These,” he said lifting her up and placing her on the battered Formica countertop, “are Creamsicles.”  Deftly he opened the cardboard box, and carefully unwrapped the pale orange treat in front of the astounded child.  “These was your mom’s favorite.  Go ahead,” he said as he recognized the hesitation in the girl’s eyes, “try it.”

 

He held the pop in front of her, and Joy took a small, careful bite.  “Oohh….” She tried to say through a mouthful of cold milk.  Her sweet, if not exactly neat smile was all the thanks Lenny could have wanted.

 

“Who wants Creamsicles, or,” he said as his eyes met Laverne’s and he once again was reminded of the little girl who became his fourth grade until-forever crush, “Fudgicles!”

 

“Fudge-sicles,” Walter corrected him absently as he continued to look at photos with Wally.

 

Laverne darted over to the countertop as her eyes shone with delight.  I can’t remember the last time that I’ve had a Fudgicle…” she said as she reached for the box.

 

“Then it’s been way too long,” Lenny replied, “way too long.”

 

 

 

The taillights of the Dodge station wagon blinked dragon-like in the darkness as Walter made a right turn out of Laurel Vista’s parking lot and headed onto the service road by the interstate.  Lenny’s arms encircled the waist of the woman in front of him as she watched until the dodge disappeared.  Laverne leaned back against him and let her fingers trail across his forearms, a casual gesture to most, but one that inflamed his heart as he leaned forward and nuzzled top of her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

 

“It’s funny,” she mumbled, her eyes still watching the darkness.

 

“What is?”

 

“I’ve wanted to see those kids for so long, but part of me was so afraid to do it that I almost told Walter not to come.”

 

Lenny forced his attention away from the scent of Prell to focus on her words.  “What do you feel now?”

 

“Like I wish they could stay longer.”

 

“You was a real trooper in there, Vernie.”  Turning her in his arms, he draped a companionable arm around her shoulders and guided her back up the steps and through her open front door.

 

“It was a little hard seeing them,” she admitted, hesitation in her voice.  “I was so afraid that I was going to cry—really lose it, y’know?”

 

“You didn’t.”

 

“I misted up a few times, but it was okay.  I mean, she said as she turned in his arms.  I miss Shirley.  I always will.  But I can enjoy her kids, tell them about her.”

 

“Walter wants that.  You’re part of the reason that he took that job in San Diego—well, that and Mrs. Feeney can watch the kids for him.”

 

“She wants everyone to call her Barb,” Laverne muttered absently.

 

“Still?”  He blinked in surprise.  Fifteen years ago any comparisons between Lillian Feeney and Barbara Rush were laughable; now they were just plain scary.

 

She shrugged and smiled as she shook her head and rolled her eyes in sarcastic amusement.  “Yeah.”

 

Lenny shook his head to clear away the ghastly image of Lillian in a sequined evening gown before responding.  “The point is that you were part of Shirley’s life, and Walter knows that.  As long as you’re around, those kids will always know who their mother was; how much she loved them.”

 

“I used to blame those kids for Shirley dying.  Walter too.”  Her eyes watched him closely, as if searching for revulsion or censure.

 

“I know.  I kinda did for a while myself,” he admitted.

 

Laverne smiled a smile that seemed born in relief more than happiness.  “My Pop was right; Shirley did the right thing by having them.”

 

“Your Pop?  Lenny looked deeply into her eyes.  Could she be having really late D.T.s?  “You know your pop is dead, right Laverne?

 

She nodded.  “Yeah.  I know that.  It’s just—I had a dream about him.  On Christmas Eve,” she elaborated.

 

Lenny said nothing, his years of experience with this woman forbidding any interruption when she was telling a difficult truth.

 

“He was still alive, you were there, and Shirley was still alive too.  So was Carmine…  But, only my pop knew that it was a dream.”

 

Realization dawned on him.  “And this is why you…”

 

She nodded.  “Quit drinking?  Yeah.  It just made me realize that life goes on”.  She looked him in the eye, her green eyes unwavering.  “And that life is worth living, especially when there are people that you want to share it with.”  She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand.  “I’m just glad that I wasn’t too late.  I’ve wasted way too much time in the last five years Lenny.”

 

His gentle kiss cut off any further declarations on her part.  “We’re together now,” he said as the kiss ended and emotion thickening his voice.  That’s all that counts.”

 

Her eyes widened.  “No, that’s not all.”  She wiggled out of his arms and walked over to the short chest of drawers and opened the top drawer.  A few moments of scrounging through rubber bands, paper clips, and notepads produced a tattered manila envelope.

 

“What’s that for?”

 

Laverne swallowed noisily before answering.  “I don’t have all of the one hundred dollars that I took—stole from you…”

 

“Laverne…”

 

“There’s sixty-five in the envelope, but I can pay you the rest after I get paid on the first.”

 

He shook his head as he mentally cursed Squiggy’s earlier words.  “You don’t gotta give me the other twenty five, Laverne.”

 

“Thirty five.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Wow.  I think that Squiggy’s been paying his share of the rent wrong for years… Anywho, you don’t gotta give me anymore money.”

 

She nodded.  “Yes, Lenny.  I do.  I’ve been talking about it a lot with George lately.”

 

“You’re sponsor?”

 

“Yeah.  He said that while I can’t fix everything I’ve done wrong over the last five years, I need to try to fix what I can, and this is something I think I can fix.  I’m sorry, Lenny.  I’m sorry that I stole from you of all people.”

 

“Its old business, Laverne.  I haven’t thought about it in years,” he lied.

 

“Len…”  Her told held warning and the look in her eyes stated plainly that she knew him far too well to believe his lame fib.

 

“Okay,” he admitted sheepishly, “In a few hours, but that’s just because Squiggy…”

 

“Said that I’d do it again…” Laverne spoke quietly, her voice ages away from the boisterous girl he remembered growing up with.

 

“Were you there?”

 

“No, but I can’t blame him for not trusting me.  “

 

He took her hands in his.  “I trust you, Laverne.  I know that you ain’t never gonna drink again, and that you’re fixing your life, that…”

 

“Len,” she said as her voice quavered and the tears she had held at bay all afternoon began to well up in her eyes, “I can’t say that I’m never gonna drink again.  I won’t today, and I’ll do my damnedest not to tomorrow, but I can’t swear on the Bible that I won’t slip one day.”

 

“I won’t let you.”

 

Laverne shook her head sadly.  “Len, if I want to, you can’t stop me.  I just gotta make sure that I don’t want to drink enough that it messes up my life again.  Whatever happens, I’m responsible.  Not you-- me.”

 

“But…” Lenny looked at her in askance.  He could fix it; he knew he could.  If he loved her enough, took care of her, watched her…

 

“No buts,” she said as she shook her head and held his chin in her fingertips, forcing him to look her in the eye.  “I gotta do this on my own, which means going to lotsa meetings.”

 

The curiosity, fueled by Squiggy’s suspicions overwhelmed him.  “What goes on at those meetings?”

 

“It’s kinda secret.  I mean, I couldn’t tell you who’s there or nothing, but what we do is talking about how we let drinking mess up our lives and how we just can’t do it anymore.  We try to support each other, and if someone slips we try to make them see that they need to stop again.”

 

He sighed in relief.  “So you don’t like have a big open bar or a tapped keg or nothing.”

 

Laverne chuckled.  “No.  Where’d you hear that?  Never mind.  Basically what we do is tell each other that we don’t have an excuse to drink—ever, period, end of story.”

 

He clasped her hands in his, wanting with all of his heart to protect her, to save her from the big, bad world.  “I wish I could go with you; you know, to help you.”

 

“You’re sweet, but this is something I gotta do.”

 

“I know it ain’t easy for you.”

 

She shook her head and her shoulders slumped a little further down as if under a great weight.  It ain’t.  I still want to do it.”

 

“Even after… “  His jaw dropped as his mind reeled with some of the stories she’d shared with him, shamefacedly, over the last month and a half.  Stories that horrified him, yet he knew that she had cleaned them up in an effort to shelter him.

 

Laverne took a deep breath and looked at him, her gaze even and unwavering.  “Even after everything,” she admitted.  “I’m hoping that the craving goes away some, in time.  But, I know that it will always be there, be a part of me.”

 

Lenny’s mind reeled as he felt for the first time felt the true and awful power of her addiction.  “Wow.”  He took a step back and tried force his mind to understand the full impact of her words.

 

She grasped his hand in hers this time, a hand that felt stronger than he remembered it being in their younger days.  “I’m telling you this because I want you to see me with your eyes wide open, Lenny.  I’m always going to be an alcoholic.  I’m never going to be allowed to drink ever again; not even beer.  And, I’m not going to get better even if I stop drinking.  It’s something I’m always going to have to fight.”

 

He blinked in shock.  “Are you trying to break up with me?”

 

“No.  But I’m giving you the chance to run if you want to.  I don’t know if either one of us really knew what you were signing on for when you opened your door on Christmas.”

 

The question that had been quietly haunting him for weeks seemed to ask itself.  “Do you want me to run?”

 

“No,” she said quietly.  “I don’t.  I don’t wanna run from you either, but I gotta be fair to you.  I can’t be selfish anymore, especially with you.”

 

He clutched her upper arms in his hands and pulled her against his chest gently.  “I ain’t running,” he whispered against her lips before kissing her.

 

The kiss deepened quickly into something hungrier.  Warring with every instinct he’d ever had, Lenny stepped away from her.  “But what about…”

 

“George doesn’t make all of my decisions for me, Len, she said.  “I want to be with you; I’ve wanted it for weeks, but I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to stick around later if you felt like you were in over your head.  I figured it might be easier on you…” her voice trailed off.

 

He pulled her more closely to him, indulging himself with the warmth of her body against his, her scent…”I don’t need you to protect me, Laverne.”

 

I never want to hurt you like that again, Lenny.  I’m so sorry…”

 

“It’s old business, like I said.  We’ve talked a lot about stuff that happened years ago.  Let’s enjoy what we have now,” he breathed in her ear as his lips trailed down her neck.

 

She gently pushed him away.

 

He opened his mouth to protest until he saw here eyes shining and her hand extending to guide him into her bedroom.

 

Later in the darkness, he held her while she slept.  The room was cold and the telltale scent of cleansers teased his mind with images of past events that had occurred on the very bed where he now lay.  The woman in his arms had a frailty to her that frightened him in his most truthful moments, and pain had aged her more swiftly that it had him.  She was nearly broke, on the verge of losing her job, and possible still legally married to husband number three.

 

But yet…  Lenny Kosnowski snuggled closer to his dream girl as he held her tightly in his arms, and began to cautiously plan their future in the reflected glow of the streetlamp outside of her bedroom window.

 

FIN