Hell or High Water

By Shotzette

PG

“Even More” Continuity

 

This is a work of fan fiction only.  It was written for giggles and grins, not dollars and cents and is not intended to infringe upon anyone’s copyrights or intellectual properties.

 

 

 

 

Laverne groggily made her way down the humid and darkened street.  Typical New York, she thought with a smirk.  Even at a quarter to five am on a Tuesday, it was the city that never slept what with the car horns honking, winos stumbling over trash cans in alleys, the screech of a fire truck’s siren…

 

As she rounded the corner on Mulberry, Laverne’s jaw threatened to connect with the asphalt.  The smoldering skeletal hulk that had been Martinelli’s Trattoria loomed in front of her.  Laverne’s stomach pitched as she stench of the burning structure reached her nostrils.  Oh god, she thought.  What happened?

 

She tried to flag down a number of firemen, whose muscular good looks would have usually distracted her, to find out what happened.  Was anyone hurt?  The assorted faces of Vic’s half-witted relatives flashed through her mind as she whispered a fervent prayer for forgiveness for saying an unkind word about them.

 

“DeFazio!“

 

The nasal bark cut through her self-recrimination and she ran toward Vic, stopping short and squelching the impulse to squeeze him in a fierce bear hug.

 

“Vic!  You’re okay?  How about Tony, and Paulie?”

 

“Fine,” he growled at her.  “Every one had left before this started.”

 

Laverne breathed a sigh of relief.  “That’s good.  I’m so glad no one was hurt; I mean when I left earlier…”

 

“You mean when you closed at two,” Vic interrupted.

 

She shook her head.  “No, Vic.  I left at eleven.  Rico was going to close.”

 

“No, Laverne,” he hissed as he pulled her closely to him.  “You closed—alone at two.  Remember?”

 

“Wha--?”

 

He nodded, his eyes darting around nervously, and Laverne suddenly became aware that several of the firefighters were walking their way.

 

“Inspector,” Vic called out.  “This is my assistant manager, Miss DeFazio.”

 

The sharp-featured man looked at Laverne shrewdly.  “She’s the one who closed up?”

 

Before Laverne could answer, Vic’s grip tightened on her arm.

 

“Yeah, she closed at two and she said that everything was fine when she left.”  He looked at Laverne intently, his dark eyes holding her in a stronger grip than his meaty fist.

 

“Yes, everything was fine when I left.”  At eleven, she added mentally.  Out loud she asked, “What happened?”

 

“It looks like there was a short in the circuitry by the stove.  You haven’t had any problems, have you? “

 

Laverne shook her head as Vic answered quickly.  “None at all.  I just had the stove serviced last month.”

 

The inspector turned his gaze back to Vic.  “I know.  You had the stove inspected by your cousin, Guido Martinelli.  By the way, it’s interesting that you have the invoice from his visit since all of your paperwork has burned up, he said indicated the pile of embers.”

 

Vic smirked.  “Guido’s family.  He dropped it by the house when he came over for supper last Sunday.  Ask any of them.”

 

“Don’t worry, I will, even though I know what they’ll say.”  The inspector looked at Laverne again.  “You’re not related to this guy are you?”

 

“Heck, no,” she replied quietly, as the enormity of the situation started to sink in.

 

The inspector gave her a quick smile.  “Lucky you.”

 

“Not too lucky,” she said, as she eyed what had been her first –possibly last—foray into management.  “I don’t got a job no more.””

 

Vic slapped a meaty arm around her should and smiled an oily smile.  “Don’t you worry, Laverne.  I think of you as family now.  You of all people should know how important that is,” he said to her as his eyes watched the inspector walk back to his men.  “C’mere,” he said as he yanked her roughly by the arm, pulling her quickly into an alleyway.

 

“Vic,” she sputtered, “What is going on?  What—“

 

“Don’t ask questions, Laverne.  You don’t wanna hear the answers anymore than I wanna say them out loud.”

 

“Why?”

 

He rolled his eyes.  “You’ve seen the books, you know how bad business is been lately.”

 

“It’s gotten better!”  She insisted.  “You’ve had a lot more lunch business since we put up those flyers near that construction site up the block and by that doctor’s office…”

 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s helped some.  But that’s lunch business, Laverne.  The dinner business is what pays the bills, and you know that.  And you know we haven’t had a lot lately.”

 

“But, it’s gotten better.”

 

“Yeah, a little.  Since you took over the day-to-day management, but it’s too little too late.  I just…” his voice trailed off.  “I’m fifty five years old Laverne, I’m too old to be standing over a hot stove all day cooking and making sure that everyone else is doing their job.”

 

“That’s why you promoted me, wasn’t it?” She asked, a little leery as to where the conversation was heading.

 

Vic snorted.  “Yeah, I hired you because my aunt owed your grand mother a favor—don’t ask about that either if you know what’s good for you—that’s all.  But, you turned out to be a not so dumb broad.  If I hired you six months ago, we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, but—“

 

“What happens now?”

 

Vic’s eyes became flinty.  “Now?  Now I collect an insurance check in the next few months and me and Gloria retire to Miami before the first snowflake falls.  I’m sick of this town anyway…”

 

What about me?  I got no job—

 

Vic reached inside his jacket pocket and Laverne’s heart leapt in her throat. 

 

He pulled out a thick envelope and shoved it into her hands.  “Consider this severance pay,” he said as he held it out to her.  She reached out and he drew his hand back slightly.  “Conditional severance pay,” he added.

 

Laverne locked eyes with Vic and was acutely aware of how isolated she was in the alley.  “Conditional,” she repeated.

 

Vic nodded and handed her the envelope.  “There’s five hundred dollars in there, that should be enough go get you on your feet and settled somewhere else.  There’s also a letter of reference in there from me,” he added.

 

She looked up at him in surprise.

 

The big man shrugged.  “I meant it.  You know how to run a restaurant,” he said in a surprisingly soft tone.  “All of this,” he said as he gestured back to his restaurant,” had nothing to do with you.

 

“Thanks,” she said in a small voice, as she beat a hasty retreat from the alley and dashed back to the comparatively safer Brooklyn sidewalk

 

 

The lurching of the subway car woke Laverne up with jolting awareness.  She groaned as she rose to her feet and rubbed her numb backside before stopping herself.  Long enough to get a seat on the subway is definitely riding it too long she thought.  Then again, where did she have to go this morning?  She had hightailed it back to her apartment after her earlier encounter with Vic, but found herself bouncing off of the walls within an hour.  Though their studio apartment was tiny and cramped on a good day, Carmine’s absence made it seemed cavernous.  Vic’s envelope stuffed with twenty-five rumpled twenty-dollar bills weighed heavy and unfamiliar in her purse; and she cursed herself for her stupidity in carrying around that much cash with her on the subway.

 

The unexpected phone call from her grandmother had seemed like a godsend.  Although she had initially wrangled the job at Martinelli’s for Laverne, she had made no secret of her displeasure over her granddaughter’s lifestyle.  The thaw that Laverne had hoped for within days had dragged on for weeks, then months.  The lilt in her grandmother’s voice cheered her after the horrible morning she had, and made her feel for the first time since Carmine left that she wasn’t alone in New York.

 

She held her back close to her as she trotted up the stairs the street and was blown away by the blast of music and the colorful balloon and crepe paper decorations.  The street festival was in full swing, and the smell of the food on the vendor’s carts was tantazlizing.!  She smacked herself in the head for forgetting what had always been her favorite time of the year as a child—almost as good as Christmas, but better than Halloween and her birthday. 

 

Laverne smiled on her face as she walked through the jubilant crowd.  Right now, a bowl of Philomena DeFazio’s minestrone and home backed bread would hit the spot better than milk and Pepsi.

 

As she walked up the four flights of stairs, the strong sent of oregano and baked chicken buoyed Laverne’s spirits further.  The loud voices coming from her grandmother’s apartment were a different story.

 

“Pop?” she said, her eyes wide as she walked into her grandmother’s living room and laid eyes on her father for the first time in eight months.

 

“Laverne,” he said sternly.  Frank DeFazio stood by the dining room table, his arms crossed in front of his chest, glowering at her.

 

Hurt flared through Laverne.  If this is how it’s going to go, and then fine, she thought; smarting from his lack of an affectionate greeting and hating herself for still craving it.

 

“Laverne,” Edna Babish said warmly as she trotted over and gave her a warm hug.  “We drove here for the festival,” the older woman whispered in her ear, “Your father thinks it’s about time that I met his mama!”

 

“Good for you,” Laverne whispered back, happy to see a friendly face.  Unfortunately, the faces around her who shared her same last name looked at her in disappointment.

 

“Bambina,” her grandmother said, as she shoved Edna out of the way and grabbed her granddaughter in a smothering hammerlock of an embrace.  “Why you no tell me that the bum ran out, eh?  I have to find it out from your cousin, Anthony?”

 

“Thanks, loose-lips,” Laverne growled at the sullen young man sprawled on the couch.

 

Anthony shrugged.  “Eh, a buddy of mine shoots pool with your building’s super and he was saying the actor guy who’s always yanking his chain to fix stuff took a powder last month.  I can’t help it if I can put two and two together.”

 

Laverne’s eyes narrowed at the thought of her cousin and her creepy janitor gossiping about her.  “And as usually, you come up with five.  Carmine—“

 

“Don’t mention that bagagalupe’s name under my roof!”  .

 

“Carmine,” Laverne said, ignoring her grandmother’s outburst, “is working on a movie in Hollywood, Grandma.  He’s coming back in two weeks.”

 

“Bambina, he’s no coming back.  Men like him never do.  His kind is like the wind, my poor ruined, Bambina.” Philomena lamented.

 

All respect for her elders was immediately squashed as Laverne’s need to defend her absent boyfriend asserted herself.  “What do you even know about him?  You never even met him!”

 

“Eh, eh…  you talk to your grandma with respect,” Frank said, as he jabbed at her with his forefinger.  “Anthony did the right thing when he found out about carmine.  He called your grandma who called me, and Edna and I are here to take you home to Milwaukee.  You can move into your old room, maybe find another job at Shotz, and forget about this awful time.”

 

“Frank?  That’s not why we came here is it?”  Edna asked.  “You said that you wanted me to meet your…”

 

“That too, but I figured you could help me with Laverne; help her to see her mistake and bring her home where she belongs.”

 

Edna shook her head as her blue eyes filled with tears.  “I don’t think Laverne made a mistake, Frank.  She and Carmine seem to be doing okay here.  Has she once called you up asking to come home?  Has she asked anyone in this room for money?”  She looked around the room, as if waiting for the DeFazio clan to universally come to their senses.

 

“Eh, what do you know?  You’ve been married five times,” Franks said dismissively and turned back towards his mother.

 

“Five times,” Philomena gasped in horror and crossed herself, glaring at Edna.

 

Edna’s tone turned icy.  “My matrimonial history has never been a problem before, has it?”

 

Frank shrugged, apparently oblivious to Edna’s hurt tone.  “I just thought you more than anyone else could help Laverne to recover from this awful mistake.  Is that so wrong?”

 

“Yeah, Pop.  It is,” Laverne chimed in, tired of feeling like an inanimate object in her family’s living room, “I haven’t made a mistake.  I love Carmine, and he loves me.  I don’t have to be within grabbing distance of him to believe that.”

 

Frank’s eyes bulged.  “He’s off in California, which means he’s with Shirley.  Ain’t none of this getting through to you?”

 

“Whose Shirley?” Piped up Anthony.

 

“My best friend.”  At her cousin’s leer, she added, “Don’t get yourself worked up.  She’s out of your league.”

 

“Hey!” Anthony looked like he was going to say more, but had already used up his big words quota for the day.

 

“You just don’t wanna see the truth,” Frank said.

 

Laverne shook her head, and said, “I see the truth, Pop.  I know that Carmine has seen Shirley in California, in fact he called me from her apartment to let me know he got to Hollywood safe and sound.”

 

“I’ll kill that bum…” Frank growled.

 

Laverne squared her shoulders and looked her father in the eye.  “He ain’t a bum.  He had dinner with Shirley—that’s all.”

 

Frank shook his head in apparent despair.  “You can’t be dumb enough to believe that, can you Muffin?”

 

“I ain’t dumb, Pop,” Laverne said, her voice loud even over the din of the celebration in the streets below.  “I trust Carmine and he trusts me,” she said, as her earlier paranoid nightmare became a laughable cartoon when confronted with the words that came so naturally from her heart.  “Carmine is living in a cheap motel and eating ramen noodles every day so he can live on his stipend and send his paycheck home to me so I can pay our bills.  Does that sound like a guy who’s running out?”

 

“Shirley ain’t the only girl in California, Laverne,” her father hinted, his eyes glimmering darkly.

 

Laverne refused to rise to the bait, and to let her own insecurities run her life.  “No, she’s not.  Then again,” she added, “New York is full of women as well and Carmine hasn’t given me a reason to doubt him since he’s been here.”

 

Her grandmother touched her arm gently, her voice softer and wheedling.  “He’s not here, Bambina.  What are you going to do when he stops sending you money now that you don’t have a job?”

 

Laverne’s eyes narrowed and she looked at her grandmother suspiciously.  “Good news travels fast, I guess.”

 

Philomena shrugged as she replied, “Lucia told me about her nephew’s…misfortune.”

 

“That’s one way to put it, I guess,” Laverne said, wondering how well she really knew her closest blood relatives at the world they lived in.

 

Now her father’s tone had turned pleading as well, as if taking his mother’s cue.  “You can come back home, Muffin.  Work at the Pizza Bowl with me…”

 

“As assistant manager?” Laverne asked suddenly.

 

Frank blinked.  “What?”

 

Laverne smiled.  “That’s what my last job was.  Why should I take a step back?  I was also earning five eighty an hour, too.  Can you match that?”  She folded her arms across her chest and rocked back on her heels, enjoying the apprehension on his face.

 

“Well uh…”

 

Laverne smiled even more broadly and shook her head.  “See, Milwaukee is a dead end, just like Shirley and I decided it was when we got canned by Shotz.”

 

“You got family in Milwaukee!” Frank railed.

 

“I got family in New York, too,” Laverne countered, “but my boyfriend and I were never invited over in all the months we lived here.”

 

Philomena’s eyes grew dark.  “Not under my roof….” She muttered.

 

“There’s nothing for me career-wise in Milwaukee, Pop.  You gotta be able to see that, don’t you?” Laverne asked.

 

“Career?”  Frank DeFazio snorted derisively.  “When did you ever want a career?  Come back to Milwaukee, Laverne.  I can call the matchmaker again and he can find you someone who ain’t too picky.  Your future husband never will have to know about this…mistake.  You can get a fresh start, and lead a decent life again.”

 

Laverne’s eyes filled with tears.  “What you’re describing don’t sound like a decent life, Pop.  It sounds like a bunch of lies, and I can’t live like that,” she said as she turned and headed for the door.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

Laverne gripped her bag righter against her thigh, and turned again to look at her father, for perhaps the last time, she acknowledged to herself, “Away from here and away from you.”

 

“How long are you gonna last with out a job, Laverne?” her father asked, his voice dripping with spite.  “You think anyone else is going to hire you after the restaurant you managed burned to the ground?”

 

“Laverne…”

 

Laverne gritted her teeth and prepared for yet another attack.  “Yes, Edna.”

 

The older woman grabbed the suitcase that was still standing by the door.  “Wait up, I’m going with you.”

 

 

“And then instead of us going dancing like he promised, we ended up at your Uncle Funji’s house for dinner and…” 

 

Laverne groaned as she refilled her jelly jar with the gallon of Chianti they’d purchased on the way back to her apartment, “Don’t tell me, he and my Pop started playing table bocce with meatballs?”

 

Edna nodded quickly before draining her glass.  “Ruined my pink taffeta dress,” she groused.  “Son of a.—Sorry, Laverne.”

 

Laverne shrugged, the alcohol and the tears she’d shed on the long walk home had put up a pretty sturdy, albeit temporary, wall between herself and her feelings.  She’d hurt tomorrow, she thought, and if the half drained bottle of Chianti was any clue, she’d hurt a lot.  But for now…  “Don’t apologize, Edna—Mrs. Bab…

“It’s Edna, honey.”

 

“Edna, Laverne repeated with a smile, I ain’t exactly my pop’s biggest fan today.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Ain’t your fault,” she said taking another gulp of wine.

 

“I know,” Edna said, smiling sadly and shaking her head, “I should have figured it out.  I feel like such a dope driving halfway across the country with Frank, thinking he wanted me to meet your grandmother because he was ready to…”  She gulped her newly poured glass of wine hurriedly.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s not your fault.”

 

“I know, but I’m sorry you had to get caught up in my family’s mess.  It’s not exactly a proud moment for me.”

“”

They care about you.

 

Laverne snorted and then had another sip of wine.  “I don’t know.  Me and Carmine lived here for eight months, and my grandma never even tried to get to know him.  Heck, she wouldn’t even meet him.”  She smiled sadly as tears threatened to leak out from behind her numb façade.  “It get’s old.”

 

“What gets old?”

 

Laverne’s face twisted into a bitter smile.  “Being the family disappointment.”

 

Edna shook her head.  “Laverne, you’re not a disappointment.”

 

“I am to them.  ‘Laverne, why ain’t you married?’ ‘ Laverne, why don’t I have any Italian grandchildren?’  ‘Laverne, why weren’t you a boy?’” Her last sentence trailed off into a ragged sob.

 

“I’m sorry,” Edna repeated.

 

“Don’t be.  I should be used to it by now.”

 

Edna grabbed her arm and pulled Laverne around to face her.  “No, you shouldn’t.  No one has the right to talk to you that way.  I’m very proud of you, Laverne DeFazio.”

 

“Nah…”

 

“Yes,” Edna replied in a no-nonsense, if somewhat slurred tone.  “You took a chance, both you and Carmine.  He gambled on a risky career, and you gambled on following your heart.  It looks to me like you both won.”

 

“I don’t know, Edna.  I don’t have a job anymore, and I only go the job at Martinellis because of my grandma.  I don’t think that would happen again, not that I’d want it to,” she said, as Vic’s grim face flashed before her eyes, “and I’m sitting here all by my lonesome—no offense.”

 

“None taken”.  The older woman smiled gently.  “I’m very proud of the way that you stood up for Carmine.”

 

Laverne’s smile dropped.  “Don’t be.  I wasn’t all that happy when he called me from Shirley’s.  I know I shouldn’t worry, but…”

 

“But…”

 

“I did,” Laverne admitted wryly.  “A little, at first.  But I know I shouldn’t.  I told the truth earlier, I haven’t had any reason to doubt Carmine, and him being in California shouldn’t give me any reasons either.”

 

“Atta girl,” Edna said, as she punched Laverne gently in the arm.

 

“Thanks,”

 

“Do you stay in touch with Shirley?”

 

Laverne nodded.  “Yeah, we write once a week, and I’m glad we do.  I miss her.”

 

“Me too,” Edna admitted.

 

Laverne grinned as she remembered Shirley’s last letter, penned in her best friend’s precise English-teacher cursive.  “She loves California.  She has a job wrapping gifts at a big department store and it pays better than Shotz ever did.”

 

“Good for her,” Edna chuckled.  “You both were far too good for that place, Edna said.  I was sorry to see you both go, but I was happy for you.”

 

Laverne smirked, happy that the conversation had drifted to happier and safer topics.  “Yeah, you could probably raise the rent for your new tenants.”

 

A shadow crossed over Edna’s face.  “If I had any.”

 

“What?”

 

“It’s an old building, Laverne, and it’s not cheap to maintain,” Edna explained.

 

A shadow of guilt rose up in Laverne.  “And all of this time you never raised our rent…”  Laverne’s lower lip began to quiver rhythmically.

 

Edna shook her head.  “No, it’s not because of any of you.  I charged you fair rent, but I could always keep up repairs.  Lately, though…”

 

“What?”

 

Edna shook her head, and the words didn’t seem to come easily from her lips.  “It’s gotten harder.  I never realized how much I relied on your father and Carmine to keep yours and Shirley’s apartment together.”  She edged conspiratorially closer to Laverne.  “I once even paid Carmine five dollars to kill the green thing in Lenny and Squiggy’s apartment.”

 

Laverne shuddered.   “I seen that thing move furniture once.”

 

Edna nodded.  “It’s just become more costly.  It also doesn’t help that Shotz had more layoffs, people can’t afford a rent hike when they’re afraid that they’re going to get pink slipped every Friday.”

 

“It’s gotten that bad?”

 

Edna hesitated, and then nodded.  “Yes, it has.  You bottle-cappers were just the first to get let go.  They laid off an entire shift of labelers two months ago, and I heard that truck drivers and dock workers might be laid off pretty soon.”

 

“Oh my god,” Laverne whispered, as she thought of the faces that she used to greet every morning, people she knew couldn’t afford to miss a day’s worth of pay, even during better times.

 

Edna continued, “It’s not just the laborers this time, they’ve also had layoffs in the secretarial pool and they’re pushing some of the older office workers to take early retirement.”

 

“That ain’t right!”

 

Edna sighed.  Tell me about it.  It also doesn’t help that three new apartment buildings have opened up downtown.  Anyone who still earns a decent salary wants to live near the fancy restaurants and department stores, not two blocks down from the docks.”

 

Laverne shook her head sadly.  It was like finding out her childhood home had been condemned.  “So there really isn’t anything back in Milwaukee, is there?  I mean, even if I wanted to go?”

 

Edna shook her head.  “That’s why I never would have asked you to come back.”  Edna looked away for a moment, as if thinking something over.

 

“What is it?”

 

“It’s not just me who’s having problems.  The Pizza Bowl hasn’t been doing well either.”

 

Laverne paled.  “No!”

 

“Who has extra cash to eat out and bowl when they’re living hand to mouth, and the people who have money…”

 

Laverne finished the sentence for her, “Don’t want to slum on the east side by the docks,” Laverne said bitterly as visions of the well off kids from Jefferson High School flashed before her eyes.  “Edna, are you sure?”

 

“I’ve been helping your father with his books,” Edna said with a short and bitter laugh.  “As usual, I end up helping him with the Pizza Bowl more than he’s helped me with the building.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Laverne said automatically before wanting to kick herself for sounding like a broken record.

 

“It was my choice,” she said heavily, before flashing a quick and not convincing smile.  “That’s one of the reasons I admire you, Shirley, Carmine, and even the boys…”

 

“You admire Lenny and Squiggy?”

 

“In a way, yes.  Then again, I’ve had a lot to drink,” Edna slurred.  “You all got out, don’t you see it?  You’re all young, and you’re at the time of your life to take a chance. You don’t need to stay in a dying town and grow old before your time.  I envy you all.”

 

Laverne let loose her usual snort of derision.  “Nah, we’re only brave because we had nothing to lose.  Shirley and I didn’t leave Shotz, Shotz left us.”

 

Edna shook her head, “No, you two were always looking for greener pastures, and Carmine too.”

 

Carmine.  Damn it, she wished he was there to hold her now.  “God I’ miss him…”

 

Edna’s look was sympathetic.  “I know you do, honey.”

 

Her tears started to flow again.  “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Edna.  I mean, it was hard enough with him being gone when I was working a ten-hour shift, but now…”

 

Edna rolled her eyes in exasperation, “You can get another job, Lavnerne.”

 

She shook her head.  “I only got my last job because my grandma called in a favor.  She’s not going to do that again.  She’ll probably call in every favor she can to keep me unemployed so I have to go back to Milwaukee with my Pop.”

 

“She wouldn’t …”

 

“She would,” Laverne said grimly.  “What are you going to do?”

 

“With your father?  Nothing!”

 

An unpleasant and traumatic picture flashed before Laverne’s eyes.  “Eww…”

 

“I didn’t mean that,” Edna explained hastily, and obviously flustered, “I meant that he and I are through.  He let me know where I stood in his life this afternoon, and didn’t like it.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Laverne said, before mentally kicking herself again.

 

Edna shook her head in consternation.  “It’s your grandmother.  I had no idea Frank was such a mama’s boy!  He’s a totally different man around her.”

 

“He always wants to make her happy.”

 

“Yeah?  Well I deserve some happy too!  You know,” Edna said, “I had an offer to sell the building two months ago to a management firm.  They have a contract with one of the canneries that needs temporary housing for it’s seasonal workers from Canada.”

 

Laverne’s expression brightened.  “It sounds like a good deal for you since you’re having problems getting tenants and keeping the building up.”

 

“It’s a great deal for me, but I turned them down because I didn’t want to leave your father alone.  I am so stupid!”  Edna’s howl of lamentation was quickly dampened by another swig of Chianti.

 

“You ain’t stupid, Edna.”

 

“I am so!  I also turned down another terrific opportunity because of that pizza-tossing walrus…”

 

“Hey, hey…” Laverne said reflexively, and in spite of herself.

 

Edna looked her dead in the eyes.  “He wanted to set you up with a matchmaker,” she said in a flat tone.

 

Laverne momentarily reconsidered.  “What else did you turn down because of the pizza-tossing walrus?”

 

Edna leaned towards her, and slurring ever so slightly said, “An old high school chum of mine is married to a man who sets up franchise opportunities for restaurants.”

 

“Huh?”  Laverne blinked.  She looked down at the now empty gallon of Chianti.  Uh oh…

 

Edna continued on obliviously, “He finds people to buy into them, brokers the deal, and then makes sure that you comply with the agreement throughout the franchise—you know, keeping the menus up to date, having certain regulated standards for cleanliness and décor.”

 

Understanding dawned on Laverne.  “Making sure the golden arches are all golden?”

 

“Exactly!  I was surprised to find out how much money you can make with those things.”

 

Laverne shrugged.  “Yeah, but it costs a lot of money upfront to buy into them.  Pizzatown approached my Pop a few years back, but there was no way he could afford to do it.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Well,” Laverne hedged, “I think that was one of the reasons.  My Pop also don’t like it when people tell him what to do, and the first thing this guy did was tell him that he made pizzas the wrong way.”

 

Edna winced.  “Ouch.”

 

Laverne smiled despite herself.  “Yeah.  I think that’s what the guy said, but there was more whimpering involved.”

 

Edna shook her head ruefully, “That was the great thing about this opportunity, it’s a new franchise so they weren’t asking for much cash down.  Do you remember Cowboy Bill?”

 

Laverne’s eyes bugged out in surprise, “From TV?  As in “whoa, Thunderbolt, whoa!”  Shirley and I used to watch his show on Saturday mornings when we drank our Ovaltine.”

 

“The one and the same!  He’s starting a chain of western restaurants.”

 

“Like Roy Rogers?”

 

Edna nodded, “Yes, but not just fast food.  More like a family restaurant with a more extensive menu.  The staff would dress as cowboys and cowgirls and the whole place would be decorated like a barn.  They also want to market them as community meeting places to local civic associations, so they let their associates have a freer rein than most franchises.  It’s like the best of both worlds.”

 

“It sounds great, Edna!  I could see something like that being a hit.  Well, until it snowed and people started slipping in cowboy boots….”

 

Edna’s face darkened.  “That’s the problem.  They’re only offering the franchises in the southwest, not any where near Wisconsin.”

 

Laverne felt a flash of sympathy for her former landlady—no, her new friend.  “And you didn’t want to leave my…”

 

“Yes.  I even asked him if he’d consider going into business with me.”  Edna looked away.

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

“No, I’m not.  I have a lot of business experience,” she explained, “but he has the real hands on restaurant experience.  I think we could have made a good team.  She drained the rest of the wine in her jelly jar.  “Who am I kidding?  Like Frank DeFazio would ever leave Milwaukee for Fort Worth, Scottsdale, Barstow, San Dimas, Burbank…”

 

“Burbank?”

 

Edna looked at her quizzically.  “Yes, Burbank.  Why?”

 

“Shirley lives in Burbank.”

 

Edna shook her head, “I thought she was going to living near her mother in San Diego.”

 

Laverne shook her head vigorously and then had to wait a few minutes for the room to stop spinning before continuing.  “That’s what I was afraid of when she first went out there, but she’s living in Burbank—right near Hollywood where Carmine is shooting his movie.

 

Green eyes locked with blue.  “It’s crazy,” Edna said quietly.

 

“It’s insane,” Laverne agreed.

 

Edna shook her head, “I don’t even know if the management company still wants to buy the building, they may have found something else by now.”

 

Laverne shrugged, “Carmine might hate Hollywood.”

 

“They may have already found someone to buy into the Burbank franchise.”

 

“They only restaurant I ever managed burned to the ground this morning.”  Laverne looked around the sparsely furnished studio apartment. “I ain’t got nothing tying me here.”

 

Edna looked away and then looked back at Laverne, her eyes reddening.  “I really don’t have anything left for me back in Milwaukee,” she said, with a slight tremble in her voice.

 

Slowly, Laverne held out her right hand, and smiled as Edna clutched it in hers.  “Then we ain’t got nothing to lose, do we?”

 

 

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To "Short Fuse"