Bookends
By Shotzette and Missy

1988
By Missy


Where was her jacket?

Not her winter jacket, or her good suede jacket; her Official Joan Jett '86 tour jacket. The one that was two years old and a little beaten-up, but still made her seem cool, because she actually MET Joan Jett that night.

Skye Kosnoski frowned to herself as she dug through a pile of old tee shirts. Suddenly, it began to move. Not just move...shift. Her eyes fell upon her art desk, hoping that she wouldn't find Bosco on the desk; the arrogant tabby lay there anyway, sunning herself.

Skye's overactive imagination was curtailed as Frank's ginger-blond head popped out of the pile, grinning in that feckless way he shared with their father. "Boo!" He bubbled.

"Frankie!" She cried out, holding her chest. The little boy seemed to enjoy her shock all the more and laughed. She picked him up, causing the two-year old to kick his legs merrily, shaking a familiar-looking jacket back on to the pile with him.

Grabbing the jacket and tossing it unceremoniously over Frankie's head, she grabbed her loaded backpack with her free arm and rushed downstairs.

****

Her family remained as they always were at seven in the morning on a school day; her father behind the stove, trying to put together breakfast and her mother keeping an eye on Andy as he ate. She entered the kitchen and plunked Frankie onto his booster seat on the way to the refrigerator.

"Missing one?"

Her mother looked up, "There's Frankie!" She laughed, then plunked Skye's jacket from her brother head, "Skye, your brother's not a coat rack."

Carrying a glass of orange juice from the refrigerator, she picked up the outstretched jacket and then planted a kiss on Laverne's cheek, "Morning, mom."

Laverne smiled, "Morning."

Her father turned from the stove, carrying with him a platter filled with pancakes, "Mornin' Skyscraper." She winced at her nickname, created by her father when she had sprouted in height at puberty. She kissed her father on the cheek as he bent to serve her a small stack of pancakes.

"Dad," She frowned at the strange odor trailing behind him, "Why do you smell like...soda?"

He grinned, "Been trying to get a new flavor right," He grinned, "Milk 'N' Pepsi."

Laverne grinned, "We got a whole freezer filled with seconds, if you wanna have some this afternoon, Skye."

She shook her head, "Gotta stay light today," She cut her pancake in half and poured a large bowl of cereal for herself, "Got a game tomorrow."

Lenny and Laverne shot each other panicked looks, and Skye's face fell; her parents had never, in all of the years she had been alive, forgotten a game of hers.

"Oh, yeah!" Her pop blurted, "I'm leaving Edna in charge of the shop so I can come!" Laverne's eyes widened, and Lenny shrugged none-too-subtly back at his wife.

Guilt swept over Skye, "If you guys are busy, you don't have to..."

Lenny squeezed his daughter's hand as he settled down, "Skye, honey, I'd walk over bowls of squid with big, squishy eyes for you."

Skye's face twisted as she pushed away her cereal.

"So," Laverne said, "How's yer science project coming?"

Skye shrugged, "Everyone in bio is doing dissection, so I'm doing a breeding project," She grinned, "The life and times of a common household moth."

Lenny laughed out loud, "I knew you got a package from your Uncle Squig! Thought he was finally coming through with those video games."

Laverne rose a brow, "Please tell me those moths ain't all over the house right now."

Skye shook her head, "Marianne's keeping them in her basement. We figured they'd like it more over there. With more expensive stuff to eat up."

Another strange look between her parents.

Skye frowned, "What's wrong with Marianne?"

Her parents winced, still disturbed by her ability to cut through the pretense of life.

"You should ask her." Laverne said, softly, "I think it'd be better if she tells you herself."

***

For the first half of Skye's day, her brain was absorbed into Marianne; what could be wrong with her? Why couldn't her parents tell her?

Marianne Ragusa had been her best friend for years, thanks to their fathers' friendship; they had met at the age of five and become inseparable for years. Though Skye had a few good friends thanks to her activities on the soccer team and having a dad who owned the town's nicest ice cream parlor, Marianne had always been there for her, whatever the time or situation.

By the time their only shared period, lunch, rolled around, Skye's head was also crammed to the brim with geometry. For a young lady who usually loved math, the idea of congruency and degrees of angle confused her.

Before heading to the cafeteria, she headed to the ladies room, and there she found Marianne blotting at her runny eyeliner. Immediately, the two friends embraced, and a wave of apprehension rolled over Skye.

"What's goin' on? My mom and dad wouldn't tell me..."

Marianne smiled softly, "Skye, It's not really bad...relax."

Skye hadn't even realized how much she had tensed up; another trait of her fathers that had carried through the generations. "What's going on?"

Marianne took a deep breath and said, "Dad and I are moving."

Relief followed sadness in Skye's heart; her friend wasn't dying. She was leaving. "Where?"

"To New York." She began re-applying her eyeliner, "Ever since Falcon Crest let Daddy go he's been saying that Hollywood's finished with him."

It had been years since Carmine had held down a major role in Hollywood; once Laverne knew what the word 'ageism' meant she began applying it to her friend's situation. Carmine had fallen from leading roles to character bits, finally to television.

"He wants to start dancing again; remember when we went to New York this summer? He auditioned for 'The Music Man'. And he has the lead." She sighed, "I'll get to see Mom more often, so I guess that's a good thing."

Skye felt tears welling up behind her eyes, but refused to shed them. "I guess we can write..."

Marianne nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah! Every chance I get!"

The girls hugged, chatting enthusiastically about what Skye would do when she came to New York on summer break. Summer was only two months away, after all; it was April, and her birthday would be coming in July. Her father would let her go then, surely...

Happiness surrounded Skye; she would not lose her best friend. They would remain close through the distance.

Word had gotten around the school rather quickly that Marianne Ragusa, the star's kid, was leaving California. Social order demanded that people show Skye, the best friend, pity. Still, Marianne's boyfriend, Dave, got even more sympathy, since he was 'losing his girl'.

Dave...Skye could barely tolerate Dave. There was something groady about him. But that had to be her jealousy talking...

***

"Can you keep a secret?"

Skye looked up in surprise from her hot fudge sundae and geometry book. This was the second time in one afternoon that she had been asked to keep one, Lenny being the first. She smiled at Marianne, wondering how she would be able to keep secret the fact that she had a surprise farewell party coming to her on Saturday.

"Sure."

Marianne plopped herself down beside her best friend, glanced swiftly over her shoulder to confirm that Lenny was busy giving away samples of Milk N Pepsi, then whispered.

"Dave and I...we're gonna...you know.." she giggled unmistakably, and Skye's eyes went wide.

"No way!" Envy twanged at Skye's heart, but worry followed swiftly, "Do you guys have...you know?"

Marianne sighed, her tone that of a woman of utter sophistication, "Skye, you know I've never done it with anyone...Dave said that no one else has done it with him, either. So we don't have to worry about AIDS."

"You trust him like that?" Skye asked, cowed by her somewhat more glamorous friend.

Marianne smiled dreamily, "Yep."

I don't Skye thought to herself. But she couldn't just tell Marianne not to have sex with her boyfriend.

"What about babies?"

Marianne seemed surprised at her very rational question. "Remember those pills I've been taking for my pimples?" Skye nodded, "They take care of babies, too."

"Are you really sure?"

"Uh-huh. You don't understand, Skye; I HAVE to. We're never gonna see each other again, and I've been holding out on him for so long..." She became deathly silent as Lenny came to the table.

"Hey girls," He handed Marianne a cone of chocolate-chip mint, "Your favorite, on the house."

"Thanks, Uncle Lenny!" She smiled, innocently.

"Just don't tell your dad about it. He'll want to pay me." Lenny swabbed the table swiftly with a rag, then stolled over to his jukebox.

"So...you want me to say you're at my house if your dad calls?" Marianne nodded.

"Please? Say I'll be there until midnight. That we're...doing stuff on our science fair thing."

She smiled, "How's Georgette doing?" She asked, referring to their moths.

"Better than me," Said Marianne, "She doesn't have to worry about any of this stuff."

In silence, Skye wished that she didn't have to, either.

****

By the time the exhausted Kosnoski family returned home for dinner, no one had the energy to notice Skye's nervous behavior. The twins were rushed to bed, then conversation focused upon her mother's job, the twin's new favorite word ("lint"), and how the surprise party would go. She tried to remain focused in the moment, but when a phone rang she jumped out of her skin.

"I'll get it!!" She grabbed the phone and swiftly said, "Hello?"

"Hey, Skye. Is Mary there?"

Skye smiled at her Uncle Carmine's voice, "Sure is."

"Good!" From Carmine's overly-excited tone, she could tell that he had a date that night, too, "Tell her that her curfew's midnight, like always."

"'Kay." She said.

"Don't work too hard on that science stuff. Night!"

"Nope! 'Kay, Night!" She hung the phone up, meeting the curious stares of her parents.

"Who was that?"

Skye crossed her legs, finishing off the last of her pizza, "Some guy."

Suspicious looks, "Some guy?" Lenny repeated.

"Just a kid I'm in math with. He wanted to make sure he had the right page numbers for tonight's work."

Her father seemed convinced, but Laverne asked, "You still have to do yours?"

She nodded, "I only have one more page left," She picked up her leftover pizza crust and dumped it into the trash, "Speaking of, I better go shower and finish it off before I get into bed."

"What? You don't want to watch TV with us? Cheers is coming on..."

Skye shook her head, "This math's gonna drive me nuts until it's finished," She kissed her father's cheek, "Night dad," Then Laverne's, "Night mom. Thanks for the pizza, even though it's not as good as yours."

"I told you," Laverne said triumphantly to Lenny, "Not enough oregano.."

Skye smiled to herself as she turned from her parents, heading upstairs.

***

A few hours and one shower later, Skye quelled her pounding stress headache by stroking Bosco's back. The cat sleepily lapped her hand before curling into a ball.

Skye sighed to herself, closing the math book with one last problem unsolved. That seemed to match her life at the moment.

She gave Bosco one last pat before placing her on the floor. Briefly, she wondered if Marianne was enjoying herself.

As she did, her neon phone rang.

Swiftly, she picked up, whispering a "hello" into the receiver.

Marianne was sobbing, "Skye...can...you...pick..me up?"

"Sure...What's wrong?"

Marianne's tears overtook her voice, "It was so bad...I had to run away...he hit me! I didn't want to do something like that, I didn't, I swear..."

Panic thudded through Skye's form, but she forced herself to remain calm, "OK, OK... I'll try to get there, OK?"

"Hurry!" she said urgently, "I'm at the Sunoco on Fifth..."

Skye shoved herself into a pair of jeans and donned a light jacket over her nightshirt, "OK, I'll get there, I promise!" She hung the phone up.

Quickly, she took stock of her situation; her parents were asleep now...she wouldn't ask them to help her now. No way she could call uncle Carmine. Her best bet was to try to get by on her learner's permit.

Her father's keys were in the kitchen...she knew that. If she could just downstairs and outside without anyone knowing what was going on...

Her progress downstairs went uninterrupted. She found the keys where they were supposed to be.

The second her hand touched the front door, the lights flicked on.

And there stood Laverne, with a dreaded question upon her lips. "What's going on?"

****

To her shame, Skye's instinctive reaction was to face her stepmother with a fake smile and respond:

"Nothing!"

Laverne's eyes narrowed as she leaned against the newel post, "Skye, you're wearing your nightie and a baseball jacket," She smiled, "Sneaking out to meet that boy?"

"Yeah! I mean no!"

Laverne appeared less fooled than concerned, "Do you need some protection?"

Skye waited for the merciful God she believed in to spare her further embarrassment and strike her down. No reprieve came, so she cried out, "Moth-er!"

Laverne knew something was up: Skye only referred to her as 'mother' when she was highly annoyed by her stepmother. "Skye, if you want to do it it's no big deal...I just want you to stay safe...."

Skye groaned; she couldn't waste any time, "Mom, it isn't me...this doesn't have anything to do with me. It's Marianne."

She knew only one Marianne; all of those suspicions about that phone call Skye had taken resurfaced, "Please tell me that wasn't Carmine on the phone."

The blonde looked to her feet, "I can't."

"Skye!" Laverne began her reproach.

"Mom, you don't understand...Marianne wanted to...you know...with Dave, because this is the last time they're ever going to see each other. She asked me to cover with her dad..." She began pacing, "But she just called me, and something's wrong..."

Alarm gripped Laverne, "Where is she?"

"The Sunoco on fifth."

Laverne already had her coat on, "Come on..."

"But if she sees you she'll know..."

"Honey, you can't drive alone yet!" Laverne said, and Skye realized that her desperation had spread itself along, somehow, to her stepmother. Willingly, she followed her to the car.

****

The four-minute drive to the station seemed endless to Skye, but for Laverne it was a good chance to examine her stepchild in silence.

Skye had sprouted over the past year; upward, of course, and a tiny bit outward. She was neither skinny nor chubby, but in between, with a light muscularity earned from playing soccer non-stop. Sort of like Darryl Hannah with a healthier body image.

Laverne smiled to herself; not that Skye was a purebred tomboy, but makeup and clothing only played a peripheral role in her life, even at sixteen. Maybe that was why she only dated casually and hadn't found a steady yet.

Once more, she reminded herself that Skye wasn't an extension of her being; nor was she an extension of Lenny's, though it might be a good idea to tell him that, soon.

The Sunuocco station was lit with an unearthly brightness at one in the morning. Laverne whipped the car into the lot and both women began searching the place for Marianne.

"There!" Skye cried dramatically, clutching Laverne's arm and pointing to a bench cemented in place outside of the station's convenience store. Sure enough, there sat Marianne, her head bowing downward. When she looked up, a river of bright-blue eye shadow flowed down her cheeks, combining with her foundation. Laverne honked her horn and Marianne raced for the passenger side door.

Skye was reminded suddenly of her old gray tom, the one that seemed to die from resentment when Bosco entered their lives. Marianne had that same sort of forlorn look to her.

"Are you hurt?"

"Yeah, Mary, are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"What?" Marianne asked, still breathless from her sobbing, "Nope," she said to Skyler. Then she showed her best friend her swelling knuckles, "He might be."

"You poor girl! What did he do to you?"

Marriane frowned, "You told your mom on me?"

"Dude, I had to. She was right there when I tried to sneak out."

Marianne sighed, "It's OK..."

"Mary, you need to tell me if Dave did anything to you," Laverne said, her eyes locked to the street.

Marianne shook her head, "It never got that far." Skye wanted to know how far it had gone, but there wasn't any way Marianne would tell in front of her mother.

"You sure?" Laverne asked suspiciously, plugging a Whitney Houston cassette into the tape deck, "I don't know if this makes you more comfortable, but I did worse when I was your age."

"Mrs. Kosnoski..."

"...I dated a gang member a couple of times...then there was that boatload of sailors...."

"Mom!" Skye's embarrassment told her that she was going too far, and Laverne quieted herself.

At a red light, she unlatched her safety belt and (beneath the sound of Laverne's protests) leapt into the back, where she leaned in to hear exactly how far Marianne went.

"Not far," Came the softly-spoken response, "He wanted me to...you know...with my mouth?"

"Eww!" Skye responded.

"Yeah. I didn't want to, he shoved me, and I punched him."

She smiled, "Cool. Mom would say it's your Ragusa genes kicking in."

Marianne laughed, "I hope she can't hear us..."

"I'm not listening!" Laverne insisted, and when she received two horrified stares, turned Whitney Houston up.

***

Forty minutes later, Marianne had been returned to her father's home, the excuse of "moth bites" was actually used, and Carmine's nonplused reaction told Laverne that he didn't quite mind that his daughter was late.

Laverne felt only relief as she finally crawled into bed beside Lenny moments later. She had been looking forward to a long night of sleep when Lenny rolled over and asked:

"What was all of that about?"

Laverne had confidence in her own innocent act, so she sweetly said, "I just had a sandwich."

He tilted his head as he leveled himself upward onto an elbow, "I heard the door open."

"Oh," She said, sheepishly, then placed a hand on Lenny's shoulder, "Promise me you won't tell Carmine."

"Tell him what?"

Laverne paused, breathing deeply, "Skye and I just rescued Marianne."

"What?"

"Don't worry: she's OK...she had a problem with her boyfriend. Skye was trying to sneak out to help her."

"Don't tell me...that was Carmine on the phone?" Laverne nodded, "Damnit..."

"Len," She cupped her husband's face, "Calm down."

"Why?"

"Because, our kid's acting like a teenager."

Lenny stared at her incredulously, "That's good?"

"That's great. It means she's trying to figure out her problems by herself, without asking either of us." Laverne tilted her head, "Not that I let her off of the hook for that."

"You talked to her about asking for help."

"Yeah, but I was a little easy on her. Skye's heart is in the right place, she just should've asked us before she went."

"Yeah," He wrapped his arms around her waist, "Well, it ain't the worst thing in the world...She ain't dating Jake the Snake...or trolling the peer for sailors."

"Len.." She reached over to muffle his words.

"Or dating The Fonz.."

She smirked, pulling her body closer to his, "You ain't gonna forget that, are you?"

"Yeah, well, I'm not a stud, Vernie."

"Yes," She kissed his lips, "You are." That one kiss lead to more kisses, which demanded Laverne let go of Lenny's lips before they start something that would keep her up all night.

"Vernie?"

"Len...I gotta get up at six."

"I do too...But.." He was kissing her neck, and somehow hit something that was too sensitive to be ignored.

Baggy eyes were fashionable. She would MAKE them fashionable...

****

This was the worst day of her life.

First, her father had decided to give her a lecture. Her father was a horrible lecturer. He felt guilty even disciplining her, a role that had fallen to her mother in ensuing years. None the less, he told her that he was proud of her kind heart...he just wished that she had come to either of them beforehand. He just didn't understand that sex stuff wasn't exactly something she wanted to discuss with her parents..

Then she received her first geometry quiz back...a solid C-. This would kill her math grade if she didn't bring it up in a month, and if she didn't bring up her grade she wasn't going to see Marianne in New York.

She spent her lunch break helping Marianne clean out her locker for the last time, an event too depressing for words.

Then her team lost their game, Four to Five...the small margin gaps killed her. And now she sat twisting purple streamers with white ones for her best friend's farewell party.

Oh yeah. Life sucked.

At least Marianne looked surprised when she and Carmine burst into the shop and saw half of the school (Minus Dave and the football team, who were sitting out in protest, Skye supposed), plus the Kosnoski clan, bellowing "surprise!" at them. There were tears, cake, and thoroughly embarrassing tap dancing by her Uncle Carmine to an INXS tune.

After about forty ice-cream sodas and too many cones of Milk N Pepsi, Skye caved in and danced with her father. He avoided her toes, improving on the Daddy-Daughter Dance disaster of 1983.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you this morning." Lenny told her hair.

"I understand, Daddy," She sighed, "I would have come to you, but you don't really handle sex stuff well."

He tried not to freeze, instead smiling a tiny parody of a smile, "I try."

She hugged him, "You more than try. You're a wonderful Dad." She sighed, "I'm not just depressed over that. I've got a problem with school."

"What?"

"I'm flunking math."

He seemed surprised, "But you're so good at it, Skye!"

"Thanks," she smiled thinly, "I don't get geometry, dad. And I'm going to fail. And you and mom...math isn't your friend." He looked a little offended, and she felt quite guilty, "Sorry."

He was ready to burst out with an offer to help her, but said, "We'll get a tutor."

She frowned; this really was the worst day of her life. But she wanted to get to New York.... "OK."

At that point, a hand tapped her on the shoulder. She spun and saw Mark Carpenter, the captain of the debate team. She didn't understand why he was considered a nerd in some social circles; actually, he was pretty cute, close-up.

And he, from the expression on his face, seemed to think she was cute, too. That didn't register until he was asking her to dance.

She looked to her father; Lenny seemed less-than-thrilled, but smiled, giving his blessing. And as she danced away to the tune of "Never Tear Us Apart", she felt as though her luck had changed.

"Thank you," Laverne said, as she wrapped her arms around her husband.

"Huh?" He responded.

She kissed his neck, "For letting Skye go dance with that kid."

Lenny shrugged, "I gotta let her have a little fun," He gave her a wicked look, "not a lot, like some folks.."

Laverne mock-pouted, "Just for that, I ain't dancing with you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

He kissed her neck, "Let's go for it."

And Laverne complied, admitting to herself that this moment that dancing with Lenny in a crowd of a hundred or so teenagers felt more momentous, more moving, than anything the past had confronted her with.



Back 1987
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