Hand In Hand
By Shotzette, Old Time Fan and Missy

Episode Fifteen
By Missy

Thank You To Chesh For Tireless Hours of Betaing!
"..And now I've been sober for one full month," Shirley concluded. The simple telling of her tale felt exhausting, though she had been through it many times before.

The group leader smiled at her, "well-done, Mrs. Meeney..."

"Miss Feeney," she corrected. The man's expression was apologetic, so much so that she forgave his reproachful expression.

Two cups of coffee and an affirmation later, Shirley strolled back to Laurel Vista. Her mind was everywhere; on Carmine's opening, which she had missed. On the hope of landing a real job, at long last. She felt jittery but exhausted. Sleep seemed to be the best possible option.

As she unlocked the door at Laurel Vista, the phone was ringing off of its hook. "I'll get it!" she said aloud, then realized that Lenny and Laverne were probably still away at the club.

Within seconds of placing the receiver to her ear, Sonny's shouts reverberated within her eardrum, "HELLO?!"

"Goodness, Sonny, what's going on?"

"Oh, Jesus, Shirley; it's Carmine. He OD'd."

She blanched; pity warring with sadness within her heart.

"Is he...dead?"

"No, no; I made him puke it up. We're at Cedars now."

She shuddered, having seen the inside of that hospital one too many times in the past year. She knew how well their operations ran, but that still did nothing to quell her fear.

Shirley responded the only way she could, "I'll be right there."

***

Sonny hung the receiver of the pay phone up, turning back toward Amy. The girl sat in a chair, rocking back and forth, her eyes focused on some far-away point.

Christ. Edna would kill him if the girl descended into catatonia. Not that he could blame her; sheltered Amy had seen, in ten minutes, far more than any girl of her mental faculties should ever see.

He sat down beside her, "Amy? Would you like some coffee?" no response, "some soup?" she stopped rocking. "soda?" he gave up.

She spoke, suddenly, "why did he do that, Sonny? That was bad."

"Well, sometimes people...take too much medicine." Sonny offered, lamely. "It was very brave of you to come and find me, by the way."

She smiled, "He kept calling me Shirl. The medicine did that, didn't it? He really loves me, doesn't he?"

Sonny's expression turned toward sympathy, "is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

She regarded him solemnly, "do you know jacks?"

He smiled, "my sister used to play them, when we were younger..."

She pulled a parcel of tin jacks from her pocket, and they began.

***

Lenny and Laverne strolled, arm in arm, down a commercial street. They stopped in front of St. Patrick's.

Laverne's expression was far-off, distant.

"Whatt're you thinking of?"

She shook her head, "Nothing."

"It's not about what your pop said, is it?"

She shook her head, "I just remember what you said, all those years ago. Remember, about trying out the veggie slicer, and what happens to all the ones that get returned?"

He winced; he had been more innocent back then. But some tiny, minuscule bit of him, the one that he certainly didn't want to let Laverne know existed, still believed in marriage, and making Laverne a mother. And that part of him was paralyzed by his own religious guilt, stopped dead by another fear; that rushing Laverne would mean losing her.

Well, he wasn't going to hell, not yet. How bourgeois of him to even think about it....whatever that meant.

"I ain't gonna return you." he offered lamely.

She turned, giving him a dazzling smile, "Len, I know that," she sighed, "I just...feel like I'm wastin' time, ya know?"

"Wasting time?" nerves prickled along the length of his arm.

"I mean....Len, I don't wanna be with anyone else. Nobody makes me this happy. Why are we wasting our time waiting on it?"

"Vernie, what are you saying?"

"I think, Len," she wrapped her arms around him, "That I'm askin' you to marry me."

***

Squiggy muttered in his sleep.

Rhonda noticed, though she didn't quite care. It was sort of sweet, endearing. She remembered having to share a living room with him, the night Shirley had left, and the entire family decided to wait up for Laverne. They had slept instead.

Little twinges of guilt rode her heart. What if he attached more than casual emotion to the consummation of their marriage?

What if she did?

She shuddered, burrowing against his shoulder. Giving in and loving him was a risk, a gigantic gamble that could serve only to break her heart. He could die tomorrow.

But some bus could come and run Rhonda over just as quick..

In his usual ignorance, he grinned in his sleep.

She fell asleep, holding on as tightly as she could.

**

"Carmine? Wake up."

He had gone to heaven. How had he managed to get there? That last binge alone should have taken him straight to the depths of hell.

But no. Shirley sat at the foot of his bed.

She sighed, the relieved sigh of a woman whose guilt had been alleviated, "Thank God."

"Shirl..." He said, guilt showing up in his face, "shit, I'm sorry."

"I know you're sorry." She said. It wasn't a condemnation, just a statement of fact. Her voice seemed to have been bled of all emotion.

Silence passed between them.

"I'm sorry I can't make things right for you," he said.

She groaned, "Carmine, no one can make my life right except for me. And no one can make you complete, except for you."

He reached out for her, "but Shirl...I want to take care of you."

Tears came to her eyes, "But I don't want to be taken care of anymore," she took a deep breath, standing and pacing, "I don't want to be the crutch you lean on. I don't want you to sacrifice yourself because you love me, which is what you keep doing." her eyes widened, "Carmine, don't you understand? Real love shouldn't be this hard."

His eyes darkened, but he said nothing.

She continued, "all we've done since that night is hurt each other. First you left because you couldn't commit to me, or because you didn't think you were worthy of me...Lenny told me that, but it just sounds silly...and you crushed me. But that was my fault; my fault for putting so much value on being a virgin."

"That was a noble thing, Shirl. You were right."

She shook her head, "it's not important enough to turn myself into a slut and drink my way through Burbank. I just wanted to forget, you know? And that's why I did that," she sat down again, "that was MY fault, Carmine, not yours. You didn't pour that alcohol down my throat. Walter, he was decent enough. It was my mistake, for letting him think that the baby was his. But how was I to know? It...she...might not have even been yours. There's no way to tell if she happened that night, or the night after. But none of that matters, because she's dead; that's my fault, even though I was very mad at you."

"Why do you keep saying 'it'?"

"Because...I need to have distance, or I'll go crazy. Don't deny yourself the right to mourn, Carmine, I know you loved..her..no matter if she was Walter's or yours or some drunk, anonymous sailor's."

He said nothing, just staring at her with a numbed expression.

"I didn't do it on purpose, you know. I just wanted the pain to stop."

"And I caused you to hurt...I'm sorry, Shirl."

"Please. Stop. Apologizing."

The words lay between them.

"Carmine," she said, trembling slightly, "Oh, I loved you so much. And I hated you for a very long time. And now we're like a soap opera."

"You always loved soaps, Angelface. How do you feel, right now?"

"I know that this isn't right." She said, "you hurting yourself, because you think you ruined me. But I'm here; I'm doing just fine."

"I killed your heart."

"...and you're being dramatic, Carmine. You tried to kill yourself for me, and frankly, I think that's scary."

"I wasn't tryin' to do that." He protested, "I'll survive, you know that I can."

She shook her head, "and I know that you love me," she said tiredly.

"You don't love me?" he said weakly.

She met his eyes and said, sincerely, "I like you, Carmine. But this love is a poison to the two of us. We're nothing but tragedy, and I can't live my life in the blackness anymore...now you've got me doing it."

"I can change, Shirl..."

"I don't want you to." She took his hand, squeezing it, "Carmine, I have forty years of living left to do. I can see the future out there, and while it's in front of me I have to figure out who I'm going to be. But you have to live your life for yourself. You have to have your own happiness. I can't carry the weight of your life, " she kissed his palm, "until then, I would like to be your friend."

He weakly squeezed her hand back. This would be better than never seeing her again.


***

"She isn't in here!" Edna cried from the bedroom.

"Great; I lose two daughters in one day!"

Enda's expression showed surprise, "you think of Amy as your daughter?"

Frank smiled, "as much as Laverne."

She smiled, realizing that this Frank was the one she had fallen in love with all of those years ago. Why couldn't he be as open and loving all of the time? Why did he have to micro-manage the lives of everyone around him?

A knock at the door interrupted their search.

"Please, let this be Amy," she murmured, opening the door.

But the woman standing on the other end of the door was as far from her sweet daughter as possible.

FIN






To Chapter 14

On To Chapter 16











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