Bookends
By Shotzette and Missy

Peace Pipe
By Shotzette


Peace Pipe
PG-13
By Shotzette

Laverne took a deep breath as she walked up the stone stairway to the heavy oak and wrought iron front door. As many times as she'd visited, she never felt like she truly belonged in the grand house in Bel Air, even if it did belong to one of her closest friends.

As if on cue, the ornate door swung open and she was greeted by Carmine Ragusa's smiling face. "You didn't give me a chance to knock,"

"The last time I let you knock, your "shave and a haircut" nearly made me go deaf," he said before quickly pecking her on the cheek and ushering her into the dimly lit foyer.

"Maybe this place wouldn't echo so much if you put down some rugs or something." The entry hall was huge, but barren. "You've lived here for a year, Ragusa, you ever gonna unpack?"

He shrugged. "I really haven't had the time and I don't know if my old stuff will work in here." At her look he added, "Okay, my decorator doesn't think it will work here. I believe her exact words were 'Goodwill surplus'."

"Hey, don't say nothing bad about Goodwill, me and Shirl got our beds there.: She looked around at her surroundings. Though bare, the granite floors beneath her feet and the ornately carved molding reminded her once again how far Carmine had come since Knapp Street. The smile on the face of the man in front of her was just as charming as it had always been, however.

"I know!" Carmine's smile grew broader as it often did when they reminisced. "I used to get couches there all of the time. Some didn't even stink too bad."

"So your decorator," Laverne asked with a sly look, "what's her name?"

"Monica."

"I thought Monica was your 'assistant'," she said, using finger quotes.

Carmine shrugged. "No, Lisa was my assistant and Tracy is my manager."

"How about..."

"Jenny is my wardrobe coordinator and Renee is my publicist," Carmine said as he counted off his various staff members on his fingers, "and I really don't wanna talk about any of them, 'kay?" His brown, puppy dog-like eyes gazed at her beseechingly.

"For a guy who all the time is griping that he don't have enough friends, your house is awfully full. I'm just saying..."

"It's not all that crowded. If you and Skye need a place to stay..."

Laverne felt her back stiffen as their easy mood evaporated. "I don't need a place to stay, Carmine. I got a house. He's the one who walked out."

He winced as if she'd slapped him. "I'm sorry..."

"You ain't the person who needs to say it," she mumbled through gritted teeth.

"Is Lenny?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Laverne, c'mon. You could even think that he'd be okay with Karen just showing up out of the blue."

"I wasn't thrilled to see her either, Carmine."

"I'm sorry. I just think that you should have give Lenny a little forewarning before you told Skye who Karen was."

"Lenny wasn't there, and Skye and Karen were. I ain't never lied to Skye before, Carmine, and I ain't gonna start now. Besides," she added with a slight shrug of her shoulders, "if I hadn't told her, Karen would have."

"Len should have been the one to tell Skye, Laverne. It was his call, he's her father."

"And I'm just her stepmother?" Involuntarily, she felt her fists clench up as she visualized knocking the former Golden Gloves champ of Milwaukee right in his capped teeth.

"I didn't say that and you know I didn't mean it."

"Well, Lenny said it loud enough for both of you the night he left so I got the message loud and clear."

Carmine stared at her in askance. "He was angry, Laverne. I'm not saying that you should have lied to Skye, but you should try to think how Lenny felt."

"Carmine," Laverne said, her voice tight, "I really don't have time for this right now. I just came to pick up Skye."

"You're right, I'm sorry," he said as he stepped back from her, "She and Marie are upstairs. I'll go get them."

"Thanks."

"As long as you're here, could you give me your opinion on something?"

"Like you could stop me," she grumbled.

"Well, since you don't like my decorator's taste, I just wanted to see you something that I got."

"Let me guess, you had it shipped in from Paris, right?"

"Nah," he said has they walked down the stairs that led to his study. "I found this in Burbank, but I think it's originally from Milwaukee." Carmine opened the door and gestured for her to walk in with a courtly bow that was pure dinner theatre in it's excution.

Laverne stepped into the dim room and then felt Carmine's hands on her back as she was shoved through a door. She was momentarily glad that Skye was no where around as a few choice curses escaped her lips while she regained her footing. "Carmine, what the-" The sound of the door slamming and a lock clicking cut off any further words.

"Carmine!"

Laverne whirled around at the sound of the masculine shout behind her. Lenny.

Her husband stood in front of her glaring, his eyes red rimmed and his face unshaven. Part of her was glad to see that he looked like crap; a look that she wanted to help along via Carmine's golf clubs that stood in their bag next to the closet. Another part of her wanted to hug him for all he was worth and beg him never to leave her again.

"I didn't know you'd be here. I just wanted to talk to Carmine," he said brusquely as he pushed past her, only to be stopped by the locked door. "Goddamn it, Carmine! Let me out of here!"

"Len, you can't use language like that in front of the girls," Carmine said through the locked door, his voice taking on an eerie cadence that reminded Laverne of her former roommate, "You know, it would be irresponsible parenting for me to leave them here so they can be exposed to blue language like that."

"Carmine, you sonofabitch!" Laverne shoved Lenny aside and started pounding on the door with her own fist.

"Thanks, Laverne, for helping me make the decision. I think the girls would love a night out on the town with me. It's not a school night so I think that dinner at Pizzamania, followed by a night at the roller rink and capped off at Basking Robbins is the way to go. That way, Skye will get a hot meal, a little exercise, and hopefully two sane and normal parents when we get home!"

Laverne's jaw dropped when she heard the massive front door in the foyer slam with a ground-shaking boom. Damn, she had to admit; her knocking must have really been loud. The pounding on the door distracted her from her thoughts. "Give it up, Len."

"I ain't gonna give up,Vernie." He continued to pound on the door ineffectively as his pouting lower lip threatened to hit the floor.

"Fine," she said as she felt her last vestiges of patience evaporate, "keep pounding on a locked door. See if I care."

"Not that you do," he muttered under his breath.

"Not this again..."

"I can't believe you let ...HER...near my daughter."

"OUR daughter, Len. What am I, the babysitter?"

"I would have fired the babysitter for this."

"Lenny, get over it! Skye met Karen and she knows that she's her real mother. Big deal."

"It is a big deal!"

"The sun rises every morning, don't it? Rain still falls. Skye is-was a happy kid. Until her father walked out on her last week."

"Don't blame me for this one, Laverne. Besides, Skye's called me at work a few times, she knows it ain't HER I'm walking out on!"

"Who do you want to blame, Len. Besides me, of course."

"This is all Karen's fault. I can't believe that she had the nerve to show up after all of these years and..."

"I'm just as surprised as you are. But she did. We're going to have to live with it."

"What about Skye, Laverne? Did you ever think about her?"

Laverne's jaw dropped in hurt surprise. "Skye's the only one that I have been thinking of, Len. That little girl trusts me, and I ain't ever gonna lie to her. I know that you don't like what I told her, but she asked me for the truth and I gave it to her."

His blue eyes were icy with contempt. "Well I hope you being all honest makes it better when Skye runs off with Karen, Laverne."

"What?" Laverne looked at her husband in shocked surprise and her brain tried to make the connecting flight to wherever the hell his had gone.

"The day that we wake up and she's gone," Lenny explained, "if we're lucky, maybe she'll leave us a note when she goes..."

"Lenny!" She grabbed him by the shirtfront and slammed him up against the wall, barely restraining herself from slapping him across the face. She looked into his face and saw past the anger to the frightened and abandoned boy that she had grown up with. She let out a deep breath as understanding dawned upon her. "Len," she said more quietly, "it ain't the same."

"Same as what?" He asked in a voice ragged from sleeplessness and tears.

"The same as Karen. The same as...your mother. " Laverne winced as she saw Lenny's jaw twitch. "Skye is a happy kid, Len. She don't have nothing to run away from. You did your job, Len. You've loved her and protected her all of these years, she hasn't ever had to go through what you did when your mother left..."

"Or what you had to go through when your mother died," he said softly.

Laverne looked up into his eyes and for the first time in several days saw the gentleness that she had come to take for granted.

"I didn't do it alone, Vernie, he said, "You're more of a mother to her than Karen ever could have been. I'm sorry for what I said the other day, Laverne. You ain't her step mother, you are her mother. I just..."

What, Len?

I guess I just always wondered why you never wanted to adopt her. Y'know, make it all official?"

Laverne shrugged as a grin washed over her face and felt the weight of the previous days melt out of her bones. "I dunno, Len. You never asked me this before."

"I never wanted to push you. I know it wasn't easy on you, Laverne, coming into this marriage with a ready-made kid..."

"I love Skye, Lenny. No piece of paper could make me love her anymore than I already do."

"I know, but I also know it wasn't easy on you at first. And I know that it's been tough since..."

"Since I can't have kids?" Laverne exhaled softly as the words she'd been holding back for the last six months fled her lips. Funny, they weren't as scary out loud as they had been in her head.

Lenny shook his head. "We don't know that for sure, Vernie. That special doctor wanted to see you again, remember."

"Yeah," she snorted, "he's on my insurance and he probably needs to make another payment on his Mercedes. I mean, we know the problem ain't you, Len. We've got proof of that--beautiful, wonderful, proof. And, if it ain't you, it's got to be me. I ain't exactly a spring chicken..."

"A lot of women older than you are mothers, Laverne." His face brightened, "There was this article in the Weekly World News..."

"Is that the one with Bat Boy?"

"None other than. Anywho, she was sixty-four-just like in the Beatles song. You always did like Paul McCartney..."

Laverne barely suppressed a shudder. "I don't want to wait until I'm that old. The baby would be changing our diapers right after we stopped changing his."

"Kids should have chores," he said absently. "All I'm trying to say, Laverne, is I know that it's been tough seeing Skye everyday when you've wanted one of our own."

"Len, Skye is ours. I never thought I'd love her as much as I do, but I don't think that I would love any baby that we had more than I love Skye. Blood don't make you family," she said, as she remembered the words that the doctor back at Milwaukee General told Shirley all those years earlier, "it doesn't matter if you give birth to them or adopt them, just as long as you love them."

"I'm sorry, Laverne," he said as he pulled her into his arms.

"Me too." The words that would have choked her years ago came out easily and she hugged him back as tight as she could, losing herself in the sensation of Irish Spring scented flannel. "I've missed you."

"Me too," he said as he pressed her back gently against the wall and his touch became hungrier.
"They'll be gone for a couple hours," she murmured into his ear, punctuating her sentence with a sharp nip to the lobe.

"That couch looks big enough..."






Carmine smiled as he quietly tiptoed away from the door and then allowed himself a sigh of relief. For the first time that day, he was glad that he'd run into Sonny St. Jacques at Paramount.

His ex-roomie was a helluva guy, but the look that Sonny had on his face when he'd asked about Laverne had galvanized Carmine into action more so than overhearing his daughter school her best friend in the fine arts of surviving parental divorce. Not that he had truly thought for a moment that anything would have happened if Laverne had run into Sonny while he was in town, but...

But sometimes the wrong guy shows up at the right time...

Carmine shook off the bad memory of a bandaged covered groom and put on his charming smile as he made his way to the two young girls in the driveway. And then he made a mental note to donate his couch to Goodwill.




To 1977



To 1979















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