Hand In Hand
By Shotzette, Old Time Fan and Missy

Episode Sixteen
By Shotzette

Thank You To Chesh For Tireless Hours of Betaing!
Shirley Feeney, Meeney; or whoever the hell she was this week; stood in the tiny doorway of the trailer, wearing an expression of anger that Frank DeFazio had never seen on such a perky face before.

"This has got to stop," she said, thrusting a stack of church bulletins and pamphlets in to his reluctant hands. "Laverne is tired of looking at them, and I'm tired of throwing them in the trash so she doesn't have to look at them."

"Who are you to come into my home and tell me this? I've known you since you were six years old, Shirley. You're practically another daughter to me."

"They way you're treating your flesh and blood daughter these days, that's not very comforting, Frank."

He blinked in surprise that she called him by his first name, speech leaving him for the first time in weeks. It was though a beloved kitten had hissed and snarled at him.

"Laverne is a grown woman," Shirley continued, not skipping a beat, "Lenny is the one thing that's made her happy in the last several months. He's been there for her, he loves her, and he'd do anything for her."

Indignation finally gave him his voice back. "Oh yeah? If he'd do anything for her, why don't he marry her? Why don't he make my Muffin an honest woman, instead of allowing her to be the neighborhood putana?"

Shirley's eyes narrowed, "I don't know what that word means, but if it means what I think it does, Lenny would beat the tar out of anyone who called her that. Even you."

"I don't need you to tell me how to treat my daughter," Frank bellowed, his roar echoing in the tiny space. "I love Laverne and I'm worried about her. I don't want her to ruin her life the way you ruined yours!"

"Frank!" Edna cried out.

His dark eyes turned venomous, "Don't 'Frank' me! This," he said, pointing a meaty finger at Shirley, "is what happens to girls who don't listen. Who think they know it all. They end up in trouble, end up drunks!"

"Frank, I really don't need to hear about bad things happening to girls with Amy missing..." Edna wailed, as she wrung her hands in frustration.

"Amy's at the hospital," Shirley said flatly.

"The hospital?"

"With Sonny," Shirley ammended quickly when she saw the stricken look upon Edna's face. "I don't know all the details, but Amy saved Carmine's life tonight. He OD'ed on Valium. It was lucky for him that Amy was able to get in contact with Sonny so they could get him to the hospital in time." Shirley turned to leave, her head throbbing with the drama of the night, but then she paused. "You now, you both raised wonderful daughters. It would be nice if you had a little faith in them."

Frank and Edna stared at her retreating form, dumbfounded, as she walked out of the trailer and into the night.

*****

Lenny swallowed nervously as he took Laverne's hands in his. "I love you, Laverne DeFazio. I can't remember far enough back to a time when I didn't love you. Heck, there were times when I tried my hardest to not be in love with you. But, that never worked. Just seeing you smile makes me the happiest guy in the world. I ain't got a lot to offer you right now. I ain't got a job, or even a good lead on a job. I ain't got any money. I'm not even going to be able to afford my rent next month, and I really don't think Sonny will let me slide this month," he said, with a mock grimace before continuing, "But, I gotta be doing something right if someone as wonderful as you loves me. I promise, I will work my tail off to make you happy."

"Lenny," Laverne began, as she looked into his beautiful, blue, childlike eyes, "I love you with all my heart. I'm just sorry that it nearly took me losing you to realize that. You are so much stronger and smarter than you realize. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have made it through the last few months. You love me, and more importantly, you understand me better than anyone else. As much as other people want to help and think they know what's best for us, we're the ones who are making this committment and we're the ones who have to live with it. You are the man who I want to spend the rest of my life with," she said, her voice quavering, as she saw Lenny's eyes brim with tears.

"Is that it?" asked the short, stout man in the world's loudest Hawaiian shirt.

"That's it," Lenny said, as Laverne nodded in silent affirmation.

"Well, then," the man replied, no longer needing to read the words he said by rote ten or twelve times a day in a good week, "By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, and the Las Vegas Gaming Commission, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may--Oh!" The portly man grinned warmly at them as he took their invoice to the cashier and left the happy couple to their passionate embrace.

*****

Andrew Squiggman stared at the beautiful creature next to him in the bed. Their being together went against everything in nature, everything he had ever beleived to be right and logical.

Heroes were supposed to get to be with women like Rhonda. Tall, brave, smart men who were responsible for incredible deeds that benefited humanity, earned the right to wake up next to goddesses.

Not cripples like him.

Still... she had come into the bedroom willingly with him. Gave herself to him fully, joyfully. Touched him in ways that both comforted and aroused him beyond all description.

Why?

It's not like she loved him. Andrew Squiggman was many things, many admittedly disgusting things, but naive wasn't one of them. Maybe she had a bad day and her need for comfort went to far? Maybe she was afraid that he wouldn't want to give her career all of his attention without "incentive"?

His face colored as he contemplated the worst reason possible. Pity. Maybe last night was "throw-the-crip- a- bone" night.

Life had taught him many things, the first was that no one does anything for nothing. Except of course, for Lenny. But Lenny wasn't as smart as Rhonda.

As the tears began to sting his eyes, he quickly, and mericfully, quietly slid out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom.

*****

Sonny glanced nervously at the quiet girl in the passenger seat as he drove down the dark highway. He had thought he had cheered Amy up by playing jacks with her, took a little of the tension away, made the pretty girl smile. That's the sort of thing he was the best at, making people feel happy. Unfortunately, right in the middle of fivesies, Amy saw a very preoccupied Shirley walk from the direction of Carmine's room.

She'd clammed up and retreated behind her wall at that point.

She was such a puzzle to him. Laverne had once mentioned that Edna had a daughter who was "special", but she never went into details. It was hard for Sonny to reconcile the frighteningly quiet girl to his right, with Carmine's description of his number one fan and cheerleader.

"Why did Carmine want to see Shirley?" she asked him suddenly, breaking the quiet of the evening drive.

Sonny took a deep breath before replying, and concentrated all his might on not saying anything stupid or hurtful, "He cares for her a lot. They've been together for a very long time."

"I like Carmine a lot. I helped him tonight," she said, plaintively, her large blue eyes darting back and forth in confusion.

"I know you do, Amy. You saved his life tonight. You were very smart and very brave. You should be proud of yourself, " he added, encouragingly.

"I'm not smart," she mumbled, "that's why no one wants to be with me."

"Smart ain't about what you've got," Sonny blurted, "it's about using what you've got. You knew Carmine was in trouble, and you didn't let anything or anyone stand in your way. You knew that his safety was the most important thing in the world. Do you know what we call that where I come from?"

She shook her head.

"We call that common sense. Common sense and ethics. You'd be surprised how many supposedley smart people don't have an ounce of either one. Especially here in California."

"No," she said, shaking her head, as a tear slowly rolled down her porcelain cheek. "If I was smart, people wouldn't leave me. Carmine used to sing to me all day, better than the Beatles," she added, for clarification. "Now, all he does is sing at work. He never has time for me anymore."

"Amy, you can't take that personally. Singing is Carmine's job, and being a successful entertainer is something he's always wanted to do. He's worked very hard for a long time to build his career."

"No, he likes Shirley better than me."

"He and Shirley have a very complicated relationship." Sonny knew he was probably saying to much, but out and out lying was something he had never been good at. Besides, the thought of such a delicate person setting herself up for such a crashing heartache twisted his guyt. "I'm sorry if this hurts you when I say it, but as much trouble as they're having now, a big part of me thinks they're going to work things out."

"And Carmine won't play with me anymore, or sing to me," the girl wailed, and covered her face in her hands.

"No, Amy. He will sing for you again. He's just awfully busy with his own...problems right now."

"I could help him..."

"No. You can't. He's going through stuff that he's going to have to fix on his own, or with Shirley."

"That's not fair," Amy replied, darkly.

"Tell me about it," he mumbled.

"Carmine's going to be just like Lenny. Lenny used to be my friend, but now he's too busy fucking Laverne."

The car skidded maniacally from lane, to fortunately empty lane, as Sonny attempted to regain control of the vehicle and his own emotions.

"Amy! Where did you learn that word?"

"That's what Frank tells Mama all the time. He says Lenny is too busy fucking his daughter to marry her or get a job," she recited primly.

"Amy, were you in the room when he said that, 'cause I really can't imagine Frank saying something like that in front of you."

"No. I was on the couch in the other room. Frank and Mama thought I was asleep."

"It's not nice to eavesdrop," he said as he felt more and more like a cross between a big brother and a guidance counselor, "and it's especially not nice to use that word."

"You mean fu-"

"Yes, Amy. You know what word I meant," he said. Feeling generous, he continued, "Both Lenny and Laverne have been very busy lately..."

"Fu--"

"No! They've been trying to help their friends. You know their friend Squiggy has been very sick, don't you?"

"I don't like Squiggy. He said I was a dummy."

"Well, Squiggy's not the nicest guy in the world all of the time, but he's been having a rough time and Lenny and Laverne have been trying to help him and Rhonda out. They've also been trying to help Shirley out."

"Why don't Shirley and Carmine help each other out?"

Sonny looked down the dark highway, as if in search for an answer.

*****

"Come in," Carmine replied to the knock on his hospital room's door.

A heavyset, middle-aged woman in a charcoal suit entered his room.

"Mr. Ragusa?" she asked.

"The one and only," he said, with a ghost of his old glib charm.

"I'm Dr. Schnable. I'm a grief counselor." At his puzzled look, she continued, "Miss Feeney stopped by my office earlier. She said you needed to talk to someone."

Carmine's expression turned icy. Great, Shirley thinks I'm insane. So much for being friends. "I'm fine. She made a mistake."

"Oh. Was it her mistake that caused you to swallow roughly nine Valium in a twelve hour period?'

"I was careless," he mumbled, staring at the sheets.

"Are you always that careless? Perhaps your grief distracted you, and that resulted in your self destructive behavior."

"I don't need a shrink!"

"Yes, Mr. Ragusa. You do." She sat down on the visitor's chair by his bed, and fixed him with a look that told him she would not tolerate any more nonsense from him. "You have two options at this point. Number one: you can enter into voluntary, twice a week therapy sessions with me, or with another counselor on the staff. Number two: you can be committed involuntarily as a suicide risk." At his shocked expression, she added, "Let me remind you that the first option will allow you to live on your own, keep your job, and will most likely result in a quicker period of healing. Now, Mr. Ragusa, which choice do you prefer?"

"It's not really a choice, is it?" he replied sarcastically.

"Life is full of choices, Mr. Ragusa. Just not always the ones we want. Now," she said, as she drew out her pen and flipped over to a fresh sheet on her notepad, "tell me about your relationship with Miss Feeney..."

FIN






To Chapter 15

On To Chapter 17











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