Bookends
By Shotzette and Missy

1976
By Missy


"...And Now we're gonna take five. Remember, it's lady's night at Paradise Lou's..." Lenny's words were drowned out by a sudden squeal from the tinny, cheap sound system. Defeated, he groaned, slipping his guitar into a stand on a nearly-empty stage. His weary band had already melded with the crowd, trying to nail a piece of action; he followed suit, trying to block out the blaring noise of an unidentifiable disco tune. A lone voice called out from a back room:

"You stink, Kosnoski!"

Lenny smiled, wanly, "Thanks, Lou."

Just one more night in the life, Lenny thought to himself wearily, and on nights like this he wondered what the point of pretending to be a musician really was. His audiences were largely unappreciative, as Lou's Paradise Lounge was, more than anything, a spot where young singles grabbed a willing partner and ran back to their 'pads' somewhere else in Hollywood.

He sighed, it was never enough to be good in this town. Shoving his way through the glittering crowds until he reached the bar, where a sympathetic young woman smiled and said,

"Your usual, Mr. Kosnoski?"

He nodded, smiling at Lou's daughter while she poured him a beer. He plopped down on a stool, accepting the full mug with a welcoming grin. His eyes scanned the crowd as he tried to imagine what kind of request would be thrown at him next.

That was when he laid eyes on her.

She was older; ten years older. The skin-tight red sequined dress she wore didn't become her, being too garish even for a ten-year old. The soft rounds of her shoulder beneath spagetti straps, however, still did odd things to his heart. Like every other woman of their generation, she appeared somewhere between fear and excitement at this brave new singles scene.

Their eyes met.

He was the first one to move, which was only fair. He slipped down two stools, and miracles of miracles, didn't fall over.

But the first words were hers.

"Long time, no see, Len."

He stared at her reflection in the bar's mirrored wall, "Same for you, Vernie. How're things?"

She shrugged, "Fine," And downed a sip from the fruity drink she was holding.

He decided to land on the safest topic possible and asked, "How's Shirley?"

Laverne's face tightened; new, recently-formed wrinkles which lined her eyes popped out, "Her last letter said 'Guam'. And not much else."

Lenny nodded; sounded something like his communication with Squiggy.

"How's Squig?" She asked, and it was his turn to wince.

"He moved to Osh Kosh," Lenny announced, "Met a nurse in 'Nam."

Laverne smiled, "I see." She looked him in the eye, "Did they get you in the Draft?"

He shook his head, "I kinda burned my card."

She blinked, "You too? Carmine did the same thing. Hid out in New York. He's still there, too. What did you do?"

He shivered, in a barely perceptible way, "Spent most of the war in Berkley," He admitted, "Hanging out with Karen and going to marches."

"The college girl?" She remembered Karen, vaguely; didn't really like her, "Wow, I'm surprised we didn't meet. I did most of the marches in So-Cal." She noticed something shiny, glowing from around his neck, You're married?"

He shook his head, "Karen didn't like commitment. This is a promise ring."

She changed the subject, "No rings on these fingers yet," And then continued, "I go out a lot, but there isn't a special guy. And I'm still with the space suit people. You're singing now?"

He shrugged, "Still an ice cream man. At least during the day," He gestured about himself, "This is what I do, Thursdays and Saturdays, just for spare change."

"You have another band?" He nodded, and her smile was nostalgic, "I knew you'd be a great singer some day. Cause I still remember that song you wrote for me." His eyes turned cold, and she swallowed the rest of her drink, "Wanna dance?"

His eyebrow quirked, "You sure?"

She nodded, as Donna Summer began to purr over the tinny sound system, "Ain't no one else I wanna dance with."

His arms felt so strangly at home when they connected around her waist; her body had ripened in ten years, had a wonderfully solid appeal. They swayed together as Donna purred, totally oblivious to the other, faster dances who surrounded them and danced like maniacs on acid.

Touching her brought back memories; ones so painful that they brought tears to his eyes. Others that were so beautiful he wanted to lay down and die. They crystallized in her green eyes.

"Laverne?"

"Mmm?" She asked.

"I'm real sorry for being mean."

"Mean?" She clearly didn't remember; from the scent of her breath, a lot of alcohol had come into play in regard to that.

"For saying I was glad about what happened between you and Sonny."

She stiffened in his arms, and he regretted his words instantly.

"It don't matter," She said, in a voice that was barely audible over the pulsating music.

"Why?'

"Cause Sonny's real happy with his bimbo wife over in Hawaii," Her smile was bittersweet when he looked into her face, "I get Christmas cards from them every year."

"Are you sorry?"

She shook her head, "I never loved him."

He nodded, "I knew."

The corners of her mouth turned downward, "How?"

"He told me," He nuzzled her ear, deliberately, "I didn't love Karen, either." He whispered

A sledgehammer to her kneecaps couldn't have made a stronger impact upon Laverne in that moment; and, reflexifley, she buckled a bit in his arms.

"Hey, Kosnoski!" He heard, "Get your lazy ass back to work!"

It was like a bucket of ice water being poured over their heads. She smiled, letting go. "How long's your set?"

He looked at his watch, "We're on 'til two."

"When's last call?"

"Four."

She smiled, "I'll call in sick tomorrow."

He played like a showoff that night; wending from the Moody Blues to Joanie Mitchel to James Taylor and all the way to Deep Purple without even a deviation in quality. The audience reaction was, generally, the same; minus one eager, green-eyed face in the crowd.

Two O'Clock came too soon. For the final number of the night, he whispered a series of progression chords to his lead guitarist and announced he was going to play something special 'for an old friend'.

When the too-familiar song began, she roared with laughter and mouthed something. It could have been
'I love it' or 'fuck you'.

The song was 'The Look'.

Lenny wasn't terribly disappointed that a throng of screaming groupies didn't meet him as he climbed off of the stage. Bored indifference was the general emotion.

In every person except for one.

"You didn't ask me to come up there!" Laverne giggled, clearly drunk, "I would've!"

Lenny shook his head, "You want some coffee, Vernie?" He urged her to sit down by the bar, and ordered a cup of coffee from one of Lou's kid's. To break the ice, he began explaining how the club they sat in was once the very messy diner in which they'd previously argued. She didn't believe him, and Lenny explained that the place was staffed with Lou's children, explaining the cleanliness of the place.

As the cup disappeared, Laverne's eyes cleared. She began telling stories, describing people she worked with; especially lingering on a character named Chuck. He returned the favor by showing her pictures of Squiggy with his new nurse friend.

One thing was a constant with Lenny; his wallet still brimmed with pictures. Laverne wasn't pleased that that photo of his mother jamming his head through the bars of his playpen remained, but didn't mention that fact out loud.

She noticed a new face among the pictures; a young, blonde-hared, blue eyes little girl of about four. When she asked who she was, Lenny smiled.

"My little girl, Skye."

Laverne blinked at him in disbelief, and his response was, "Karen's idea, not mine. Her middle name's Ra. Short for Mothra."

Her response had a more blunt quality, "You had a little girl and didn't tell me?"

He nodded, "Well, me and Karen were living in a commune that year; we didn't talk to anyone."

Laverne frowned, "It's been three years, and you didn't...how could you?!"

"I didn't think you wanted to know," he said, bluntly, "I thought you hated me."

Her face softened, and she touched his arm, "Aww, Len, I could never hate you."

"I was a real jerk. I deserved it."

She shook her head, "I was rude, to start it off." She looked over the picture of Skye once more, "She's really pretty, Len. She looks just like you, really."

He smiled, "Yeah. But she's real smart! She's three and can read already."

"Wow." There was a jealousy in Laverne's eyes, "Karen must be really proud."

Lenny's features sharpened, and sorrow evidenced itself on his face, "I wish I could say."

Laverne covered her mouth, pity touching her, "I'm sorry, Len. Is she...dead?"

He shook his head, "She walked out on me." He took a deep breath, "Just up and left one night."

"I'm sorry," Laverne said, her voice a whisper. Around them, couples milled about, as though this incredibly personal conversation wasn't happening at all. "I can get how ya feel...I'm real lonely, most of the time."

He smiled, "Yeah. I missed being around you, Laverne." He admitted, holding out a hand, "Truce?"

She didn't hesitate to accept his offered palm, "Truce." But when they connected, there was an extra spark to their touch. Their eyes met, the space between them shrank...

Their lips touched, silently.

Laverne wouldn't be able to recall, later, who initiated the first touch, the first taste. Within minutes, her tongue was entwined with Lenny's, and an unfamiliar heat snaked through her body.

She was halfway into his lap when a meaty, fingerless palm smacked itself against the bar. "Last call!" Barked Lou, as he watched the young couple with amused intensity. In turn, Laverne's hands tightened on the back of Lenny's jacket.

"What do you wanna do?" He asked her, panting.

She grasped his right hand, placing it on her goosebump-coated arm, "Feel those?"

He grinned, nodding.

"Take me to your place, Len."

Lou had never seen the young man move with such speed or grace before. He rolled his eyes, polishing a coffee mug they'd discarded. Kids.


***

It wasn't anything close to what he'd expected.

It was much, much better.

Panting, his arms wrapped around Laverne DeFazio, Lenny couldn't resist grinning at the ceiling like a fool.

Laverne finally caught his eye, her breath ruffling the hair on his chest, "You OK?"

He nodded, his voice husky, "Oh yeah. How about you?"

She smiled, then nodded. "Wow." She intoned, softly, "Wow."

He grinned, "Wow is good." He kissed her brow, "I can't believe we just..." He giggled, hugging her tightly, "Wow!"

Her smile was unreserved, "You still kiss good." She admitted, burrowing against his warm skin.

He blushed, "You remember that?"

"It was my first kiss, Len. It's easy for me to remember stuff like that."

"Really?! I was your first kiss?" She nodded, and he laughed, "Boy, I thought you kissed someone else before me!"

"Like who?"

"Tony Picconi!"

"Tony?! Len, there were certain things girls didn't do with Tony, and that was one of em." They laughed, quietly,

"Boy, I still can't believe Anne Marie's a nun!"

"Yeah, well, I can't believe Hector owns his own company..." Her eyes met his once more, and the weight of the world seemed to cave in, "What are we gonna do, Len? I mean...That just changed something big. But are we an 'us'?"

Lenny's eyes were a bright, brilliant blue, "I think we are."

Her smile was irresistible, "Good."

A key turning in the lock suddenly drew them into a sitting position, "Argh! Skye's sitter!!"

"What?!"

Lenny was already in the process of dressing, "It's five in the morning!"

Now Laverne was on her own feet, "It's that late?!"

"It's that early." He didn't laugh; her spangley dress was askew, and he had messed up her very elegant hairdo with some very wild lovemaking, "You're beautiful."

"Aww.." A tiny voice piping 'Daddy!! Daddy!!' cut the endearments short. Laverne found a scrap of paper on his bedside table, then quickly scribbled a number and address out for him.

"What's this?"

"My new place," She smiled, then wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a devastating kiss upon his lips, "I'll go out the fire escape."

"Aww! But I want you to meet..."

She kissed him again, "I want to do that," She said, opening the window and slipping out, "With underwear on."

He waved, and she waved back, and his view was promptly cut off as she descended the stairs.

His bedroom door burst open, and a tow-headed little girl with a very excited voice began telling him that she'd found a pretty gray cat when playing in the park yesterday afternoon, and could they keep him? And why was he smiling like that?

A proud feline crept across the floor; just as skinny and arrogant as its predecessor had been. Patterns seemed to repeat themselves, and Lenny laughed out loud at the irony of it all, then smiled at his daughter's quizzical, bee-stung expression. He picked her up, then kissed her baby-smooth forehead.

"Nothing, Punkin. I'm just thinking about someone I really love."

"Me?" She asked, still excited.

He tousled her hair, leading her out to the living room. "Make that two people I really love." He hugged her, then set her on the floor, "Come on, I'm making waffles today!"

His daughter squealed, like only an excited kid could. As soon as he felt assured that she was gone, he rushed to the window and peered out.

Laverne stood in the alley, staring up at him as he used to stare at her.

He blew her a kiss.

The pattern held.

FIN




To Christmas-1972

To Christmas, 1976













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