Hand In Hand
By Shotzette, Old Time Fan and Missy

Episode Nineteen
By Shotzette

Thank You To Chesh For Tireless Hours of Betaing!
Episode 19

Two Weeks Later...


Laverne sighed as she held Sonny's weak hand in her own. The memory of that horrible day in Simi Valley still clung to her, haunting her dreams. Sonny had improved slightly. He was breathing on his own and no longer needed the respirator.

But he was still in a coma, and things were looking less promising by the day. Although the valiant efforts of Shirley and Lenny had kept him alive for the ambulance, Sonny's brain had been deprived of oxygen for many minutes. That combined with the rupture of a tiny, yet so important blood vessel in his brain, could keep him in his vegetative state forever.

Laverne couldn't believe the physical changes that had taken place in a few short weeks. The doctors had explained to her that in order for Sonny's damaged tissue to repair itself, he was burning upwards of six thousand calories a day. In just two weeks, the formerly muscular and toned stunt man had lost more than thirty pounds, giving him a frighteningly gaunt appearance and a gray pallor. Between the weight loss and the burns crisscrossing his now exposed scalp, she wouldn't have recognized him on the street.

The sad thing was, she probably wouldn't have given him a second look. Guilt washed over her anew. She'd fallen for a very pretty package with little thought to the man who lay beneath it. The man laying on the hospital bed in front of her was all but a stranger to her. He was a good, generous man; but she'd be lying to herself if she said that's what warranted her attention in the first place. She just saw the biceps, the flashy smile, the dark curly hair. The fact that he adored her and treated her well was of little consequence.

For the umpteenth time since his accident, Laverne sent up a little prayer that Sonny would make a full recovery and find a woman able and willing to love all of him, not just his exterior. He deserved more.


************


Lenny smiled at his wife when she walked through the front door and flopped bonelessly onto the couch. His wife. It had been nearly a month, and he still couldn't get over the fact that he and Laverne were married.

"Tough day?"

"Yeah," she replied, her forearm covering her face as if she was surrendering to the world.

"You stayed late again," he remarked.

"I went to see Sonny at Cedars," she said, and craned her neck around to see him, as if though gauging his reaction.

"Oh. Any change?" He tried to make his tone light, tried to make it seem like he was only concerned about Sonny's well being. Not that he wasn't, that just wasn't the half of what was going on inside of his head. She married you, not him. Let it go, he pleaded with himself.

As if Sonny St. Jacques, handsome, Hollywood stuntman wasn't enough competition; Sonny St. Jacques, coma-victim, who was injured selflessly trying to save a distraught retarded girl was even more so.

The tabloids had a field day with his injury. The studios, producers, directors, and stunt coordinators were all pointing fingers at one another; and the B movie Sonny had been working on was being promoted more heavily than the big budget pictures coming out of the major studios. Sonny went from being an unknown, second-stringer to being the most well-known stuntman in the business. He was getting the kind of publicity that most celebs would kill for, but he sadly was in no shape to enjoy or exploit it.

The Bosco really hit the fan when a freelance photographer snapped a picture of Laverne leaving Sonny's hospital room a few days after the accident. Immediately, the two of them were unwillingly thrust into the harsh glare of the spotlight. Laverne was painted as the fickle woman who broke brave Sonny's heart, and he suddenly became the unemployed guy who *didn't* try to save the distraught retarded girl, and had married Sonny's girl in a quickie Vegas ceremony.

Once again, Lenny kicked himself for letting Laverne stop him from saving Amy. If he had run after he her on his first impulse, he could have caught her long before she got close enough to the blast site. Amy would be fine, Sonny wouldn't be in a coma, and things would be good between him and Laverne again. Why did he always have to screw things up?

Well, he thought grimly, they had been trying to figure out a way to tell Laverne's father about their wedding. Maybe they should thank the kind folks at the "Tattler" for saving them the trouble. Or not.

Frank had called the apartment once since the tabloid came out. Laverne never told him what she and her father said to one another. All she did was go upstairs and cry quietly in bed for the rest of the night.

Shaking his head to clear the dark cobwebs, Lenny tried to focus on Laverne's words.

"...still unconscious, but the doctors said he's gotten a little bit stronger. I think they're going to try more things out on him the stronger he gets."

"Like he some kinda guinea piglet?" The second the flippant comment was out of his mouth, Lenny immediately regretted it. Laverne's perturbed look sealed the deal. "Sorry," he murmured, looking away.

After a few tense seconds, she asked, "How was your day?"

He noted the forced cheerfulness in her voice. Instead of it making him feel better that she was trying to shift the mood, it only irritated him further. "I looked through the want ads. I saw two jobs that I think I could have done, but by the time I called them, they were filled."

"Oh." This time, she didn't even seem to make an attempt to mask her disappointment.

"I tried!"

"I didn't say you didn't," Laverne replied, defensively. "Look," she said, as she sat up on the couch, "I've just had a long day, and I'm tired. I think I'm going to go upstairs and take a nap, before we get into it again."

"No, Laverne," he snapped, "you stay where you are. It's your apartment since you're paying all the rent. I'm going out." he said, striding angrily to the back door.

"Lenny! Where are you going?"

"Just out, is all!" And with that, he was gone.

*****

Frank DeFazio rubbed his tired face with his hands. He hated hospitals. Hated them more than anything in the world. He'd spent too many nights at St. Catherine's, watching his beloved Josephine waste away to cancer. Then, having to go back to the same damnable place a few months ago, only to be told they were sending his Mama home to die.

Yet, like a moth to a flame, he sat with Amy in Sonny's room at Cedars, trying to ignore Amy's sing-song chanting as the talked to Sonny. Annoying as it was, who was he to tell her to stop? If there was the tiniest chance Sonny could respond, it would be worth it. Her constant apologies were breaking his heart, though..

She shouldn't be the one to apologies, he thought, clenching his fists. If he ever found out what that Ragusa bum said or did to Amy to frighten her so much, he'd snap his spine like a twig. Or better yet, find someone younger to do it. First the bum ruined little Shirley Feeney, then abandoned her, leaving her with child. God only knows what Carmine's plans for poor, innocent, Amy were. Poor Shirley had become a drunk and a tramp, Amy's reaction would have been even worse. It would kill Edna if Amy had to be instituionalized.

Edna had sobbed hysterically the entire way to the emergency room that awful day. She'd been so relieved to see Amy, and to discover the girl's physical injuries were minimal. Edna had just held Amy tightly as her tears turned to those of joy. Fortunately, Frank's eyes were umimpaired by tears and he could see things clearly. Like the fact that Carmine had his hands on poor Amy when they walked in, looking almost as obscene as that Kosnowski bum groping his daughter on the seat next to them.

He didn't even speak to Laverne that day. Frank heard snippets of information from people at the scene and the police officer who was taking everyone's statements. He didn't think it was possible to have any deeper respect and admiration for Sonny, but that day proved him wrong. After his ungrateful daughter accepted Sonny's invitation to the shoot, she brought Lenny along. The Polish-sausage-for-brains, unemployed, idiot who did nothing that day. Despire his incapacitating illness, even Squiggy had his life together more than Lenny did with his new job at the studio and gorgeus new wife.

How could Laverne be so foolish?

His face darkened even further. How could Laverne be so cruel? To elope with that bum to Vegas, not tell her Pop she was married, and, he thought wish a slight shudder, probably pregnant. Why else would she have gone for a quickie ceremony with no questions asked? Didn't she realize that she and Lenny were still living in sin in the eyes of the Church? That their children couldn't be baptized? Did she hate her father that much to go to such lengths to spit in his face?

It didn't matter, he told himself firmly. After their last conversation, he made it clear to Laverne that she was dead to him. A man can only take so much disrespect and disobedience.

Frank looked over at Sonny's mangled form and pity warred with the anger in his heart. Such a good boy, he would have been the perfect son-in-law, a take charge guy who would take care of Laverne so she could quit her job and start a family. Son-in-law? Forget that, Sonny would have been the son he never had, but always wanted. His Muffin had everything in the palm of her hand, and she through it all away, Frank thought bitterly. For the first time in his life, he was glad Josephine was not there to see her daughter's disgrace, and his failure as a father.

Still, sometimes when God closes a door, he opens a window. Frank looked at Amy, as she sobbingly implored Sonny to wake up and forgive her. Poor kid, he thought, and such a good girl. She'd never stab someone in the back, never rebel. Amy'd never run off in the night with some bum.

It was almost like she was the perfect daughter.

*****

",,,and he still hasn't regained consciousness. It's all my fault, Dr. Schnable. I should have talked to Amy on my own and taken care of the problem myself. I--"

"Mr. Ragusa, do you know how many times you referred to yourself in the last few minutes?"

"Uh, no. I wasn't counting."

"Well, I was. Forty two times, Mr. Ragusa. Remember when we had that discussion about narcisism?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Your friend is in a coma," Dr. Schnable said flatly, "and that is tragic. You however, are not. You did not cause your friend's coma, he elected to risk his life to save someone else. A very brave choice, Mr. Ragusa, but it was his choice to make. You didn't cause that explosion, or your friend's injury."

Carmine's face darkened, "No. But if Shirley hadn't stopped me--"

"Your friend made a quick judgement call on what she believed to be the truth. Just as you did."

"Yeah, but--"

The heavy set woman sighed, and took off her glasses and massaged the bridge of her nose. "Mr. Ragusa, once again, I must remind you that Shirley Feeney is not the anti-christ. Your problems are not her fault, neither was your friend's injury, nor is the current conflict in southeast Asia."

"It's just... it's just like she don't seem to care no more," he finally blurted.

"Care? Care about you? Care about your friend? Care about herself? Which is it?"

He snorted derisively. "Care about herself? That's all Shirley seems to do these days. You think I'm a narcisist? Hang around with her for ten minutes. It's all 'AA this and AA that' and 'my sponsor said this'. It's like she's not thinking for herself anymore. The Shirley Feeney that I used to know, and love," he added, noticing the doctor's raised eyebrow, "cared about her friends. She'd be the first one there in a crisis, offering a shoulder to cry on, or a pat on the back. Now..." he broke off and looked away from her, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Now she's trying to get her life under control?" Dr. Schnable prodded gently.

"No. It's more than that. It's like the rest of us don't matter no more."

"The rest of you, or just you, Mr. Ragusa?'

"Well, yeah, all of us, but me in particular," he said, looking back at her challengingly. "Shirley used to always be there to buck me up when I was down, to tell me that my big break was around the corner, to make me feel better about myself."

"And, what did you do for her?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me, don't get selective hearing at this point of the game."

"She was my girlfriend. We weren't always going steady, but we sort of had an understanding that we'd be there for one another. I helped her buy a car, I helped her and Laverne move furniture, and sometimes did repairs in their apartment."

"How long did you and Shirley go out with each other?"

"Off and on, since tenth grade, officially."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty nine."

Dr. Schnable peered over her glasses at Carmine incredulously. "You two have been going out off and on for the last fourteen years, and you just slept together for the first and only time eight months ago? Doesn't that strike you as," flustered, the doctor groped for words, "odd?'

Carmine stuck out his chin defiantly. "It ain't odd. Shirley's a nice girl. Or, at least she was."

"A nice girl, Mr. Ragusa? So I'm to assume that evening eight months ago was her first time?"

"Yes," Carmine said, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"And your's as well?"

"Well, uh, no." At the doctor's puzzled expression, Carmine continued, "I mean, we didn't go steady all the time. And I never, ever cheated on her when we were," he added quickly.

"Never?"

"Well, uh," he fidgeted uncomfortably as a stray memory, one he squelched everytime it surfaced, flashed before his eyes. "There was this one time, about five years ago, when I fooled around with her roommate."

Dr. Schnable flipped back through her notes, "That would be Laverne, correct?"

"Yes," Carmine replied shortly, hating the direction the discussion was heading more with each passing word.

"Did you have intercourse with Laverne?"

"No!" Carmine stood up swifly, powered by dual rushes of guilt and indignation. "I would never do that! Laverne's a nice girl, and she's Shirley's best friend!"

"No, you'd only fool around with her," Dr. Snable replied, as she made annoying little quotation gestures with her fingers.

"What's that supposed to mean?

"You have very rigid criteria on what makes a nice girl versus a not-so-nice girl, Mr. Ragusa. Where does that come from?"

"That's just how things are. I didn't make the rules."

"No, you didn't. But you sure seem to like to exploit them at the drop of a hat, don't you?" He started to speak, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand. "A man who sleeps around is a playboy, yet a woman who sleeps around is a tramp? Does that seem fair to you?"

"No, but--"

"And," the doctor continued as she once again referred to her notes, "several times in our past appointments, you've used the phrase 'ruined' to describe Shirley. Is that how you see her?"

"Well, waiting for her wedding night was always a very big deal to Shirley, and yes, I felt guilty for robbing her of that. Is that a crime?"

"No, it is not. I've always assumed you and Shirley engaged in consensual intercourse--"

"Would you please stop using that word?" Carmine groaned, as he buried his face in his hands.

"Was there coercion or force used that night? Was Shirley inebriated to the point where she could not make a sound decision?"

"No!" Carmine leapt to his feet and started pacing angrily back and forth in front of her. "What kind of a lowlife pervet do you think I am? I'd never hurt Shirley, that way!"

"Yet, you'd abandon her the moment after you two finished making love, without an explanation. Don't you think that hurt her?

"Yes, and that was one of the cruelest things I could have done. If I could go back in time to that night, things would have been different, believe me."

"You would have stayed with her?"

"No. I wouldn't have slept with her in the first place. I wouldn't have put any of these horrible events in motion. Shirley and I would be the same as we ever were, and neither one of us would have been hurt like we've been."

"You'd elect to keep 'dating' the woman you've been seeing off and on for the past fourteen years? The one you moved to California to be with in the first place? You'd rather keep the status quo than commit to her?"

Carmine opened his mouth to reply, and for once, didn't have a comeback.

Dr. Schnable sighed as she closed her notebook. "I really should have thought this through before I said yes," she muttered.

"Excuse me? Said yes to what?"

"Said yes to taking you on as a patient instead of letting the department head commit you like he wanted to."

"Why did you say yes?"

"Shirley." At his stunned expression, she continued, "The former love of your life begged me to intervene. She said that being committed would be the worst thing for you, and you were finally making some strides forward in your career. She said she was not strong enough to give you the support she knew you needed, and she was afraid you'd feel abandoned. She planted herself in my office and talked at me, not to me, at me, for nearly an hour. I basically just said yes so she'd leave me alone."

Carmine sat there, dumfounded with his shrink's revelation.

Unfortunately," Dr. Schnable said, looking at him with an expression close to regret, "I don't seem to be making an impact on you. You've been seeing me regularly for nearly a month, and I can't honestly say I've seen any progress. More importantly, I haven't seen an honest effort from you to confront your problems. Mr. Ragusa," she said, as she stood up and indicated the hour was over, "therapy is a two way street. I can't fix your problems for you, I can just illuminate the way and offer you options. You need to start pulling your weight, Mr. Ragusa. Now."


******



"Lenny?'

"No, Vernie. It's just me."

"Oh. Shirl," Laverne replied, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Lenny's not here?" Shirley squinted at her watch. "It's nearly midnight. Where is he?"

"Well, that seems to be the sixty-four thousand dollar question at this point," Laverne said with a forced smile, as she flopped gracelessly onto the couch.

"You two had a fight," Shirley stated rather than asked.

"Yeah. I really don't want to talk about it right now, Shirl," Laverne responded before she could ask any further questions. An awkward silence fell between the two women.

We've had too many moments like this in the last year, Shirley thought. What's happened to us? Laverne and I used to be closer than most sisters, now there's this wall between us.

"Well," Laverne began clumsily, "speaking of midnight, you're home kinda late. What's up?"

Shirley sighed. She really wasn't up to having this conversation now, but one of her biggest issues was holding things in too long, and using other people's needs and concerns as an excuse not to deal with her own problems. At least that's what Bill, her sponsor, told her earlier that day.

"Laverne, I have some big news..."

"You and Carmine made up?" Laverne asked, her face instantly illuminating at the possibility.

Shirley took a deep breath and counted to ten silently before replying. "No, Laverne. The situation between Carmine and myself hasn't changed, and it most likely won't anytime soon, if ever." Looking deeply into her friend's eyes, Shirley prayed that the speech would sink in this time. "You need to let the 'me and Carmine' thing drop. For good, Laverne."

"But--"

"No buts. My life does not revolve around Carmine Ragusa anymore. I'm just sorry I let him be so important to me for so long."

Laverne looked away, her lower lip protruding in a pout that would do a kindergartner proud. "Fine," she answered, sarcastically, as she crossed her arms and looked at Shirley appraisingly, "so what's the big news?"

Ignoring the barb, Shirley continued, "Well, it's sort a three parter." She paused and took a deep breath before going on, "I got a job today!"

A huge grin spread itself across Laverne's face, as Shirley felt herself pulled into a fierce bear hug. "I knew you would! Congratulations! What kind of job is it?"

Shirley smiled proudly. "You are looking at the newest assistant in the admissions office of Burbank Community College!"

Laverne's eyes widened. "An office job? You ain't never done nothing like that before. Neither one of us has."

"Like you had any experience with testing space suits before your new job," she gently chided her roomate. "It's nothing I can't handle, light typing, and as you know I used to be able to type sixty words a minute back in high school," Shirley said, waiting for Laverne's nod of affirmation before continuing, "answering the phone and scheduling meetings."

"That's great, Shirl! I know you've been hunting really hard on top of going to your AA meetings every day."

Shirley's eyes followed Laverne's gaze to the kitchen table where she and Lenny had divided up the want ads,as had become their daily custom. On the right side of the table, she could make out the neat red circles that marked the jobs she had looked into that morning. On the left side of the table sat the other end of the want ads, marred by Bosco stains. Uh oh, Shirley thought. It didn't take a genius to figure out what their fight was probably about. Stay out of it, she told herself. This is Laverne's marriage, not yours.

Forcing her attention back to Laverne, Shirley smiled then said, "That's only the first part of the good news, Laverne."

"There's more?"

"I did say there were three parts, didn't I ?"

"Yeah, but I thought you were just being dramatic. Are you counting to ten, Shirley?"

Shirley shook her head quickly. "The second part of my news is even bigger. The job pays almost as much as I was getting at Bardwells, but the benefits are better."

"Like medical coverage and stuff?"

"Even better, Laverne!" Shirley paused for effect for a moment, then blurted, "Employees of the college can take courses for free after their first six months of employment. Free, Vernie! Don't you get it?" she asked, seeing Laverne's blank expression. "After they hired me today, I talked to one of their guidance counselors. He said that as long as I can get ahold of my high school transcripts, once I'm eligible, I can enroll in their Nursing Program."

"You wanna be a nurse? I mean, I guess it's a good way to meet doctors, but--"

"Laverne!" Shirley snapped, "I want to be a nurse for me. To have a career I care about, to do something that makes a difference, to be able to support myself."

"Well yeah, but that's going to take years and years. What's going to happen when you--"

"And Carmine get back together?" Shirley finished, as she through her hands in the air in exasperation. "Laverne. Get it though your head, Carmine and I are over. I need to take control of my life and my future, and this is the most intelligent way I can think of. I'd really like you to be in my corner on this one, Vernie," she pleaded.

"It's just... I don't..Look, Shirley. You've totally changed in the last few months, and I'm having a hard time keeping up with you. All of your life, all you've ever wanted to do is marry a doctor, start a family, and live in a two story colonial in the suburbs. Now, all of a sudden , you want to be a nurse? It's just a little sudden, especially after.." Laverne broke off, and looked away.

"After all that's happened?"

"Yeah. Don't you think you're moving a little too fast?"

"Maybe, a little. But Laverne, think of all the time I've wasted just standing still."

"Wasted? Shirley, do you really think you've been wasting your life?" Laverne asked, the hurt evident in her voice.

"Wasting is probably not the best word. I just," she sat back down on the couch as she tried to gather her thoughts, "waited for something or someone else to make my choices for me. I've never really done anything on my own before."

"I don't understand."

"You know how you used to ask me if my balloon would ever land?" At Laverne's nod, she continued. "Well, until the last couple of months, it was never really my balloon. This is the first time I've ever run my own life. Until now, I've never done what I wanted to do. I know it's not going to be easy, Laverne. But the best things in life are worth working for. It's like how you knew that taking the job at Ajax was the right things for you to do."

Laverne visibly relaxed, as Shirley finally saw the look of realization she'd been hoping for. "Yeah. Okay, I guess I sort of understand why you want to do this. Besides," she said, as she gave Shirley an affectionate thump on the shoulder, "you always did real good in school. You'll be a great nurse."

"Thanks, Laverne."

"When did you figure all of this out? I mean, I know things have been kind of crazy around here, but I had no clue you were doing this.

"Well," Shirley hedged, "we've all sort of been wrapped up in our own lives. I mean, a lot has changed in the last year for all of us, hasn't it?"

"I'll say," Laverne replied as she looked at the gold band on her finger and smiled sadly.

"Which brings me to the third part of my news." Shirley took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and said the words she desperately hadn't wanted to say to her best friend of twenty three years, "I'm moving out."

"What? Shirl, you can't! I mean, we've been roomates for ten years now..."

"Laverne," she replied, as gently as she could, "things have changed. You're married now, remember?"

"Yeah, but--"

"No buts. Even by California standards, it's pretty odd that you, Lenny, and I are sharing a bedroom."

"Yeah, but--"

"Laverne, I spend most nights listening to his snoring, or his pleading with you that I'm asleep and won't hear anything, or I hear you two get up and go to the living room in the middle of the night. None of this is healthy for any of us."

Laverne looked around helplessly, her eyes reminiscent of those of a lost child. "Where would you go?" she finally asked, in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

"I'm moving in with Rosie Greenbaum."

"What?"

"She has a two bedroom apartment, and her former roomate moved to San Francisco last month. We've discussed it, and she's cutting me some slack on the rent so I can pay less to her than I'd be paying here."

"Shirley, if money matters, between the three of us the rent will be less. Once Lenny's working and all--"

"No, Laverne. It's not all about the money. You. Are. Married. You and Lenny need to be a couple without a fifth wheel hanging around."

Tears began to fill Laverne's eyes, as she lashed back at Shirley. "Oh yeah? Since when do you know so much about marriage? That whole month you lived with Walter must have been very educational, Shirley! Besides, when did you and Rosie become such close friends?'

Shirley bit her lip, and forced herself not to respond in anger. "Damnit, Laverne! I always got along with Rosie fairly well. You two couldn't get along with each other, and that is not my problem, a fact I made very clear to Rosie when we first started talking about this last week. We were all Debs together, Laverne. Don't you remember any of the good times we all had? It wasn't that long ago."

Laverne merely snorted in response.

"I've been meeting Rosie for coffee every day since Sonny's accident. She told me how she got her RN in less than two years. Believe it or not, she did a lot of things besides shopping and mambo lessons back in Milwaukee?"

"Yeah, Shirley. She did a lot of sailors."

"No, Laverne. She was studying Ogden's medical books. She was bored and wanted to educate herself so she could help him at his practice. She thought it would bring them closer together as a couple at first, but then she really started to like it. Of course," Shirley added, "this was all before she found out about Ogden and the cocktail waitress."

"Great. You want to be a nurse just because Rosie's one? So much for independance, eh Shirl?"

"No, Laverne. What I would really prefer to be is a doctor, and maybe I will someday. Becoming a nurse is something I can do within the next few years, and I'm going for it."

"No, Shirley. You're just running from one pipe dream to the next, and one roomate to the next. Nothing's really changed with you, has it?" she spat back angrily.

"A lot has changed with me," Shirley hollered, as frustration took hold. "You're the one who's still the same old Laverne. Your entire life is at the mercy of your father and whatever guy you're with at the moment."

"I'm married to Lenny, or have you forgotten that?"

"Well, it would be pretty hard to remember considering you've only been together a month after running away to marry him without any of your friends or family."

"Our marriage is between Lenny and myself, no one else. Besides, I didn't think you wanted to be anywhere near a wedding with all the stuff you've been though lately. I was trying to look out for you."

"Bull. You knew I would have talked you out of marrying anyone that impulsivly. You two ran away like a couple of kids. As I said earlier, your father wanted you to get married, and you obliged him. As usual!" Shirley said viciously, as she regretted not letting this discussion wait until the morning.

"We wanted a private ceremony. One with no nay-sayers present," Laverne said with a glare.

"And how long did it take you to tell your father you got married? Oh yeah, I forgot. You didn't! He read about it in the paper. Laverne DeFazio Kosnowski, you are the biggest chicken that has ever lived!"

"I wanted to tell him when the time was right," Laverne growled.

"And that would have been when? After you and Lenny had your first child? You were never going to tell him because you've never, ever been able to stand up to your father."

"That's not true!"

"Oh yes it is! I swear, I don't know who's the bigger coward, you or Carmine. You both make these huge speeches about how you want to protect the ones you love, and do the noble thing, but it really boils down to neither one of you having the courage to say what you mean!

"For someone who's supposedly over Carmine, you sure bring up his name a lot, Shirl."

"Well, for someone who's supposedly my best friend, you sure take Carmine's side a lot. I swear, Laverne, no wonder you two had a fling back in Milwaukee, you're like two peas in a pod."

"Shirl..." Laverne said in a hushed tone, as her eyes left Shirley's to fixate on something behind her.

Lenny stood there with an impassive expression on his face.

FIN






To Chapter 18

On To Chapter 20











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