Hand In Hand
By Shotzette, Old Time Fan and Missy
Episode Two
By OldTimeFan
Thank You To Chesh For Tireless Hours of Betaing!
On the plus side, it was nice and warm in the California night. At least it was, until it started to rain. Just my luck, Lenny sighed. Even the elements hate me.
He walked down the patch of highway, battered duffle bag in his left hand, the right holding his rapidly-cramping thumb aloft. Cars and trucks zoomed past him without pause and he was beginning to wonder if the three bucks in his wallet would at least buy him a bus ticket to a town with friendlier drivers.
Lenny yawned and let his right hand drop to his side. What was the point? He'd just have to depend on his well-worn sneakers to get him somewhere. Anywhere that wasn't on the other side of the wall from the woman he loved and loathed for her unknowing betrayal would do.
Just then, a car slowed down just ahead of him and pulled over into the shoulder. Hopefully, Lenny forced his weary legs to carry him quickly to its side. He peered in the passenger side window with his best, I'm-not-a-serial-killer smile. The driver, a dark figure within, leaned over and rolled the window down. "Hey, pal, thanks for stopping. I'm...hey. What are you doing out here this late?"
"I could ask you the same thing," said Carmine.
"Could you do that after I'm in the car with you?"
"Sure."
Lenny opened the door and slid inside, shaking his head like a soaked puppy until Carmine gave him an irritated look. "Sorry."
"It's okay. I needed a shower." Carmine cocked his head to one side. "So, you didn't answer my question."
"What was it again?"
"What are you doing hiking along the freeway this time of the night?" asked Carmine, wearily.
"Oh, that question." Lenny shifted in his seat. "Well, the thing of it is, Carmine, is I'm moving on."
"No kidding."
"No kidding at all! I've had enough of all this...um...warm weather. Yeah, I miss skiing and snowball fights and all that great stuff we had in Milwaukee."
"I see." Carmine didn't look convinced. "Since when do you know how to ski, Len?"
"That ain't the point." He stared at his shoes. "Look, I've just got to go, okay? I need a fresh start, a clean break from...everything. I need to get on with my life and I just can't do that out here."
Carmine closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. "That, Len, I can definitely understand."
Lenny peered at him a little closer. "You can, huh? Say, what're you doing driving this time of night, anyway?"
"Much the same as you." Carmine revved the engine and pulled back onto the freeway, nearly sideswiping a Greyhound bus in his haste. "I'm heading for New York. Wanna come?"
Lenny considered for a second, before shrugging, "Good a place as any. At least it's far away from her...here...here, I meant."
"I hear you," muttered Carmine.
***
Sonny made her runny eggs and overdone toast in the morning. Laverne ate it with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, not wanting to hurt his feelings. He's so sweet, she told herself. Look at him, cooking for you, smiling at you every chance he gets.
So why don't you love him yet?
You will, she chided. Give it time, be patient. After all, what's not to love? He's built like a Greek god, he's kind and gentle, and, most importantly, he loves you. What else do you need?
The fact that she even kept asking herself that very question was more irritating than her inability to answer it. As a distraction, she launched into small talk. "So, what are you up to today?"
"I've got that huge opportunity I told you about, remember?" He was wolfing down toast two slices at a time. In between gulps, he said, "That new action flick? They have to make sure I match the leading man for the stunts in height and weight, and if I do, I'm a shoe-in! It's gonna mean a lot of bucks, Laverne. A lot of bucks!"
She grinned. "Aw, I'm sure you'll get it. You're the best stuntman in the business."
He blushed very sweetly. "Well, you know, there are a lot of guys here - but you're right. I'm the best." He reached over and took her hand. "You know what I'm gonna do with that big payday, Laverne? The very first thing I'm gonna buy?"
Her heart started to flutter in her chest. She was almost afraid to ask, "What?"
"A big old bunch of roses for my girl. A dozen...no, two dozen. What color do you like best, red or yellow or...?"
She hesitated, feeling an unexpected sense of relief. "Surprise me."
"Deal."
They finished breakfast and Sonny headed off. Laverne gathered her things and went back to her own apartment, hoping Shirley didn't notice that she was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Maybe if she tiptoed into their bedroom and quickly slid under the covers, she could play possum until Shirl got up and went in the bathroom, then quickly change.
Geeze, it's like you're living with your mother! What are you so afraid of, her disapproval? Laverne shook her head. It was silly, absolutely, but concocting a plan to hide her night of passion from her best friend was a great distraction from the nagging voices in her head. The ones that said maybe last night wasn't as earth shattering as she'd expected. That maybe she should have waited until she was really, truly in love instead of jumping at only the potential. That maybe she was rushing down the wrong path but couldn't figure out what the right one was.
"I wonder how Len's doing this morning?" she asked herself out of nowhere.
***
Carmine glanced over at the blond haired young man snoring softly in the passenger's seat. I wonder how long he was out there before I picked him up? He must have gone at least a few miles on foot, considering where I found him. And I thought I was motivated to get the hell out of Dodge.
He shook his head, trying to keep his vision clear. The first rays of dawn had broken the horizon, and he knew he'd be wise to pull over for a few hours of sleep. But then he remembered the feeling of Shirley's warm, soft body in his arms earlier that night and the thought of lying alone and cold in a strange bed motivated him to keep going.
Thinking of Shirley brought back the sick, sinking feeling in his gut. She'd probably be waking up soon, despising herself for what they'd done. He pictured her scurrying into the shower, scrubbing her alabaster skin and crying for her wasted virginity. At least he'd spared her the pain of having to face him this morning and pretend to be happy about it all. It was a small comfort, but he clung to it like a drowning man clutching a piece of driftwood.
Time to look forward, Ragusa, he thought. Time to focus on the ads he'd hastily circled in Variety and what opportunities they represented. Broadway was booming and there were lots of new shows casting fresh talent to attract younger audiences. There was even a show about the Vietnam War and some hippies, which sounded like a lot of fun. As to where he was going to live while he followed up on all these great possibilities, he had no idea. There was no Frank DeFazio to turn to in New York, no safety net. It was terrifying, but at the same time, he felt more like a man than ever before. He was going to have to make it on his own, or die trying.
It was strangely comforting to have Lenny along for the right, like bringing an old teddy bear. Even if they parted ways once they reached the city, at least he'd have one link left to his circle of friends. Although Len was a poor substitute for his Angel Face.
Clenching his jaw, he accelerated, as though he could outrun his memory of her. So far, it wasn't working.
***
Frank re-read the note from Edna one more time before letting it slide to the floor like so much junk. He buried his face in his hands. I ain't gonna cry. I ain't sheddin' a tear! The only woman Frank DeFazio cried for was his late wife, Josephine. She'd left him too, but of course that hadn't been her fault. This time, he couldn't blame death for the end of his marriage.
But he could sure blame Edna.
He slammed his fist down on the kitchen table a few times, shouting in frustration. "Why? What in the hell could I have done so wrong? I gave her a home, put food on the table, did whatever she asked...why?"
The walls of their trailer had no response. He stormed around the kitchen, cursing and hitting things, his rage strangely comforting. Now what did he have? The business, for what it was worth. This crappy trailer, all he could afford in this god forsakenly expensive town. A bunch of memories he no longer wanted. That's all he had to show for his sixty-odd years on this Earth, that and of course, his daughter.
Laverne. He still had Laverne.
Frank took a deep breath. Then another. He looked around at the mess he'd made of the kitchen and rolled his eyes. He'd clean it up later. Right now, he had to check on his little Muffin. After all, as long as her life was perfect, what did his really matter, anyway?
***
Shirley had waited for nearly three hours before it had finally sunk in. She had showered, dressed, and put her face on while waiting for Carmine to come back. Then she had sat and flipped through Saturday morning television for awhile, glancing at the door every few minutes. Finally she had gone back into the bedroom and made the bed with flawless hospital corners. Only then did she notice his slightly open closet door. When she'd opened it and realized that it was empty, her heart had dropped into her shoes.
Carmine isn't coming back, she'd thought. Not this morning. Maybe not ever.
She didn't cry, not right away. She was too numb to feel anything. She had simply gathered up her purse and left, heading back down the stairs to her apartment. She was too dazed to concern herself with Laverne's inevitable questions about where she had been all night long and what had happened. It wasn't until she was in the living room that her legs suddenly went weak and she more fell than sat down on the couch.
How could he do this to me? How could he share something so precious, so perfect with me and then just...leave?
She could hear her mother's voice in her head. "What do you expect, Shirley? You gave him the milk, did you think he'd still want the cow?"
Her eyes filled with tears. Maybe she'd done something wrong, although what, she couldn't imagine. He had been so tender during their lovemaking and seemed completely satisfied afterward. Yet what did she know, really? She was just a frigid virgin, or at least she had been. Now she was just used goods, used by the one man in the world she had trusted understood what it meant for her to finally, completely commit to him, body and soul.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she cried, pounding the tops of her knees with her fists.
"Hey, cut it out!"
She looked up to see Laverne standing in the doorway, looking both disheveled and guilty. She hadn't even heard the door open.
"Geeze, Shirl, you shouldn't be judging me like that! You don't even know all the facts!"
"What are you talking about?" Shirley demanded.
"I...wait." Laverne came further into the living room and looked down at her. "Aren't those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?"
Shirley brushed away her tears and eyed Laverne up and down. "I could ask you the very same thing."
***
Squiggy had to tell someone, anyone. But who? No one loved Lenny like he did, in a totally guy way of course. Heck, the girls probably wouldn't even care that Lenny was gone. But if he didn't talk to somebody about Len's farewell note, he'd explode.
Squiggy got dressed with difficulty. His stupid hand still wasn't working right, and he felt all off-balance. Probably coming down with a bug, to top it all off, he thought. Today wasn't shaping up to be a good day.
He ran down the stairs, nearly slamming into Rhonda halfway down. The buxom blonde grabbed his shoulders and squealed, "Hey, watch it! You almost knocked Rhonda off her platform heels!"
Squiggy looked up at her indignantly. "Say, it ain't my fault! I'm upset, woman!" He pulled away from her and nearly fell down the remaining stairs.
She steadied him again and asked, "What has you in such a tizzy anyway?"
"I'm tizzying because my best friend in the world has left me behind like so much garbage!" He clenched his teeth, trying to keep his voice from getting girly.
Rhonda blinked a few times. "You mean Lenny? Where did Lenny go?"
He sighed heavily. "If I knew that, Rhonda, he wouldn't be gone!" Squiggy sank down onto the steps and planted his chin in the palm of his left hand. "He left me a note, sayin' he had to go find himself, whatever the hell that means. I coulda told him where he was."
Rhonda sat down next to him. "I'm sorry, Squiggy. I know you really liked him. Say, maybe he'll be back soon."
"I don't think so," said Squiggy glumly. "He took Jeffrey and a bunch of other stuff he cares about with him."
"You don't know what prompted him to leave so suddenly, without saying goodbye?"
"No I don't. I thought things were goin' good, you know, with the business and stuff. I thought Len was happy here." He shrugged. "Guess I was wrong about that, just like I'm wrong about everything. I just wish I knew...."
"What, Squiggy?" she prompted gently.
"Why? I mean, what'd I do? Recently, that is."
"Oh, Squiggy, I doubt it has anything to do with you. Let me ask you something."
"What?"
"You said Len took a bunch of things that were important to him. Was one of them by any chance that picture of Laverne and him he kept on top of his bureau? The one you took of them at my party a few weeks ago?"
Squiggy squinted up at her. "So what if he did?"
Rhonda nodded. "There's your answer."
"To what?" He thought about it for a moment, then said, "Oh. Oh! Ohhhhhhhh."
FIN
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