Hand In Hand
By Shotzette, Old Time Fan and Missy

Episode Four
By Shotzette

Thank You To Chesh For Tireless Hours of Betaing!

Episode Four

By Shotzette



One Week Later


The look of sheer joy on Squiggy's face melted away the second when he saw who stood on the other side of his front door.

"Oh. It's just you," he said, as he turned around and limped back towards his bed.

"That's not precisley the sort of reaction Rhonda is used to, Squiggy," said the statuesque blond as she shook her head ruefully before entering the tiny, dark apartment. Cleaning hadn't been a priority since Lenny's departure, not that it had been before, she surmised. The tattered shades were drawn on the one window, and the trash can in the center (?) of the room overflowed with dirty paper plates. The whole place had a claustrophobic staleness that made the hair on the back of Rhonda's neck stand on end.

Gingerly, she approached Squiggy's bed. "How are you feeling?" she asked in her best auditioning-for-the-part-of-the-heroic-nurse voice. He winced as she drew the shade, the light illuminating the newly acquired dark circles under his eyes.

"I'm fine," he replied shortly.

"Really? Squiggy, you really should go to a doctor. You took a nasty fall down those stairs. You may have hurt yourself more than you realized."

"I said I'm fine, woman!"

"Squiggy," she replied, the steel in her voice surprising both of them, "you're still limping. You've obviously hurt your leg. You need to see a doctor before you hurt yourself even more."

"Rhonda, Rhonda, Rhonda, my little golden butter tub. I slipped and fell. That's all. Don't go making a federal case out of it," he said, though the bravado in his voice sounded more forced than usual to her thespian ears, "Just like a woman, you go to pieces over a simple bruise. Y'know if Lenny were here--" His voice broke off raggedly and he refused to meet her eyes.

"Lenny's not here," she said as gently as she could, "and you need to start taking care of yourself."

"I'll say! I need to start working out so when that loser crawls back after his little fannydingho, I'll be able to smack some sense into that thick skull of his. Andrew Squiggman will not be tossed aside like somebody's salad!"

"Squiggy, calm down. You need to take care of yourself because, in case you haven't noticed, you've stayed in your apartment for nearly a whole week." A frightening thought occurred to her. "Am I the only person you've talked to all week?"

"I just needed some alone time. It got loud over here, with him talking to Jeffrey all day. I'm cherishing my *me* time."

"You mean no one else has checked to see if you're feeling better?"

"I don't need nobody. Besides, you're the only one who knows I fell."

"Andrew Squiggman, you cannot ask Rhonda to believe that no one in this building heard the racket you made when you fell," she stated as she drew herself up to her full five foot ten inches."

"My dearest Rhonda, there are many things I can't ask you to do. Most of them because you've slapped me in the past when I've asked, but that's neither there nor here. In case you haven't noticed, Lenny and Carmine no longer live here, Laverne is too busy playing kissy-face with Sonny to notice much of anything, Jay and Mrs. Babbish haven't been around for weeks, and Shirley hasn't been around much either."

"You shouldn't be alone and you should see a doctor," Rhonda pressed, although she could tell by the resolution in his face that it was a lost cause.

"I should be alone, because no one is living here anymore!" he flared as he stood a limped towards her. "Don't you get it? This is how it's gonna end! Me, alone, in a strange town! The place I moved to because all my friends were leaving me behind in Milwaukee. Well," he said as emotion shook his voice, "they've all finally managed to ditch me in sunny California as well." Grabbing her arm, he yanked her towards the door. "You too, Rhonda! You leave and I'll stay here and curl up in a little ball," he hollered right before his left leg crumpled beneath him and he fell to the ground.

"Squiggy!" Rhonda cried out as she saw his face contort in a painful grimace. He didn't answer her. He just clutched his injured leg against his body with his right hand as his left arm draped itself lifelessly across his small form.

Rhonda immediately lunged towards the phone to call an ambulance. The silent receiver told her that paying the utility bills hadn't been a priority since Lenny left, either.

"Don't move, Squiggy!" she said, wincing at her own innappropriate words. "I'm going to get help!"

Ignoring his pleas to the contrary, she ran out of his apartment as fast as her four-inch heels would carry her up the stairs to Laverne and Shirley's place. They had to be home, she thought to herself, what else would those girls be doing on a Saturday night?

"Laverne! Shirley! Open up! Rhonda has an emergency!" No one answered. She kept pounding on the door, endangering her flawless acrylic nails, and yelling until she heard movement from the apartment.

The door swung open to reveal a very disheveled, and angry Shirley Feeney.

"Rhonda," she slurred, "I've told you before and I'll tell you again, just because you got a run in your last pair of pantyhose, doesn't mean it's an emergency!"

Rhonda pushed her aside and ran to the phone. "Shirley," she gasped as she waited for the operator to pick up, "Squiggy's had some sort of an attack. We need an ambulance."

"Attack?" asked an unfamiliar masculine voice from the top of the stairs. Rhonda looked up in time to see a strange man struggle into his shirt as he ran down the stairs towards her. She gaped disbelievingly as she tried to reconcile the image with that of the virginal Shirley Feeney she thought she knew. "What sort of attack?" continued the stranger. At her look of non comprehension, he elaborated, "I'm a doctor, I might be able to help."

"His leg went out from under him, and I think he's convulsing." As the doctor ran to the front door, she hollered after him, "He's in the apartment down the stairs to your left,".

As she hung up the phone and headed to the door, Rhonda really looked at Shirley for the first time that night. The petite brunette's lipstick was smeared, and a hickey on her neck was becoming more pronounced by the second. "He's a doctor," she announced to Rhonda, with a note of triumph in her inebriated voice.

Rhonda smiled automatically, a skill she had learned quickly in Hollywood to deal with an uncomfortable situation. Then she quickly fled to the relative sanity of Squiggy's apartment.

*****

Blinking away the sting of his own sweat, Carmine Ragusa once again squinted at the address on the flyer in his hand.

Hell's Kitchen in July. You real know when to plan a trip, Ragusa, he thought to himself, sarcastically. Then again, things could always be worse. He and Lenny could have arrived in January and be up to their asses in snow.

Or, he could be back in Burbank disappointing the woman he loved.

Shaking the illegal thought away, Carmine once again turned his attention to the flyer: Apt. for Rent. Studio/1Ba. 500 sqft. No Pets. References Required. $150/month. New Mgmt.

One hundred and fifty a month for one room and a bathroom he'd have to share with Lenny Kosnowski? And he had thought the prices in L.A. were high. He sighed as he rounded the corner.

Then his heart and stomach simultaneously dropped.

The address on the flyer had to be wrong. There was no way that the crud-infested building in front of him could legaly be described as a dwelling, much less one that would cost him one fifty a month. Broken glass littered the sidewalk, obviously originating from the multitude of broken windows in the four storey dump. Various vulgarities, many concerning a woman named Trudy, were spray painted across the battered brick front. The wino passed out on the stoop in front was merely icing on the cake.

He was about to turn around when the front door opened, revealing a young woman. She was slight, and wearing a serious expression on a face that was framed by short blond hair. "Please," she said, addressing the wino on the ground, "you need to go now."

The man just groaned and rolled over towards her.

"Please," she said more loudly, as she looked around the deserted street nervously, "if you don't leave, I'll have to call the police."

The wino's response was a sound somewhere between a growl and a grunt. Then, with surprising speed, his hand shot out and snaked up the young woman's leg.

She shreiked in surprise and fear as she stumbled, then fell back through the open doorway.

Like lightening, Carmin bolted across the street. He grabbed the other man's shoulder and yanked him off of the girl, sending the wino sprawling down the three steps of the stoop and into the empty street.

"Get away from her!" Carmine said in a chilling tone that had quieted down Vinny's Pool Hall on more than one occassion.

His opponent rose to his feet, hate emanating from his entire being. The look on his facce changed however, once he took in Carmine's powerful physique. With a parting glare, the pervert hightailed it down the sidewalk.

Carmine then turned his attention to the trembling girl in the doorway. She shrank away when he offered her his hand.

"Don't be scared," he said in his most soothing tones, "That creep's gone, and he probably won't be back. Are you okay?"

She nodded quickly, never meeting his eyes.

He backed away, giving her room to stand on the small stoop, instinct warning him to move slowly as to not frighten her further. "Well," he said awkwardly as she stood up silently, still staring at the ground, "uh, have a nice day," and he turned around and started to walk away.

"W-w-wait," said a feminine voice behind him.

He turned around and saw the girl smiling tentatively at him. "Th-th-thank you," she stammered as a blush crept into her cheeks.

He smiled back, feeling better than he had in days. "No, thank you," he replied. "You're the first person who's smiled at me since I've been in the city. It's not a very friendly place, is it?"

She shook her head vigorously, agreeing with him. Her eyes glanced downward and fixed on the light blue flyer in his hand. "Did you want to see the apartment?" she asked, her face lighting up hopefully.

"You work here?" At her enthusiastic nod, he continued, "Yeah, I did. But," as he looked at the decrepit building behind her, "I don't really think my buddy and I can afford a hundred and fifty a month." For this dump, anyhow, he finished silently.

"We're thinking of offering fifty dollars off the rent if the new tenant can do some of the handyman work," the girl said enthusiastically as she took a step towards him, her fear seemingly forgotten. "We just bought the building and it needs a little fixing up."

That's the understatement of the century, Camine thought to himself. Still...

"Could I see the unit?" he asked, throwing all of the Ragusa charm into the smile he gave the girl.

She smiled in return and nodded, blushing furiously as she led him though the door.

The interior wasn't in much better shape that the outside, but the sight of cleaning buckets and cans of paint reassured him, somewhat. Besides, the odor of ammonia and paint trumped the odor of an overripe Lenny Kosnoski any day. If this place had running water, he was going to go for it, he thought as he touched the checkbook in his back pocket reassuringly.

"Thanks, Miss..."

"Amy. Just Amy."

*****





Aside from the air conditioning and lasagna, this could be hell, Laverne mused.

Both her father and Sonny sat across the table from one another, smiling blandly at her as they both talked about Sonny's positive attributes. They both seemed to agree that Salvatore Putanesca, nee' Sonny St. Jacques, was quite the man for her. Now they were both hellbent on making her see it too.

She stared at her plate and tried to always have food in her mouth so she wouldn't have to reply. If this keeps up, Laverne thought, I'll put on sixty pounds and the question will be moot. Sadly, part of that idea appealed to her.

It would be easier hurting herself than either of the two men at the table, she realized as she forced herself to tune back into their conversation.

"...And now that I'm the stunt double for the lead actor, I'm guaranteed a pay or play contract through the first twenty-six episodes," Sonny said, with pride evident in his voice.

"That's great!" Frank replied, giving the young man a friendly swat on the shoulder. "Muffin, I'm so proud of you! You finally got a nice Italian guy with a good job! Your Mama would be so happy." Frank beamed as he started clearing away the dishes in the tiny trailer.

The glass of chianti in Laverne's hand shook has her father's word's penetrated the safe cocoon she had wrapped around her brain. Proud? She was sleeping with a man, who she didn't love, out of wedlock. Her Mama would weep if she knew what her little bambina had become.

Over the last several days, Laverne had forced herself to face the ugly truth her life had become. She was only with Sonny because she was afraid to be alone. A fear that had only intensified over the past few weeks.

The truth came as no surprise, oddly enough. Mama left you, she thought to herself. She left you crying in the hospital when you were nine. And when she left, Laverne remembered bitterly, she took the best part of Pop with her.

Randy left. One day he had kissed her, held her, and was on the verge of offering her a future. Six hours later, he to, was gone for good.

Edna left. The trailer now looked so bare. She knew Edna couldn't have carried everything off with her. The overflowing dumpster in the parking lot confirmed her earlier suspicions. Whether her father had thrown their belongings out in a fit of grief or rage, she could no longer tell. Briefly, she wondered if he could tell the difference anymore.

In many ways, Shirley had left in the dead of night with Carmine. Her friend had lost more than her virginity tht night, she had lost herself. The Shirley that resided at Laurel Vista now was a cold andnocturnal creature. Laverne was becoming used to waking up in a bedroom that reeked of booze most mornings. The nights Shirley bothered to come home, that was.

Lenny had also left. She wasn't certain when, but he was definitely gone. Squiggy had been holed up in their apartment for days, most likely greiving in his own bizarre fashion. In the last few chaotic weeks, she felt for sure that Lenny would resurface. He'd come back with a few funny stories from his adventure and everything would be back to normal again.

Laverne inhaled sharply. for some reason, Lenny's disappearance was pushing past the other drama surrounding her life, aggressively placing it's self in the forefront of her mind. Strange...

A sudden wave of anger burned through Laverne as she gripped her fork tightly. Why did things have to change? Why was everone she cared about hurting themselves?

"Laverne?"

Laverne looked up into the puzzled faces of her father and her lover.

"Earth to Laverne," Sonny said jokingly, as he helped himself to a third portion of lasagna.

"Muffin," her father said more loudly than necessary, "be polite! Sonny was telling us about his new job." Turning back to the young man, Frank added, "Go on, son."

"Well," Sonny replied around a mouthful of pasta, meat, and marinara, "the director said..."

"Excuse me," Laverne interrupted, "but could you swallow before you finish the story? The view from this end of the table ain't the prettiest."

Sonny looked as if he had been slapped. As he swallowed, he managed to croak out an indignant, "Laverne!" before she cut him off again.

"And as long as we're talking about your new job, has the story changed at all since the last five times you've told me about it?" Ignoring the two horrified faces in front of her, she continued, allowing the chianti to amplify her venom and her volume.

"Why don't we talk about my new opportunity, hmm?" she said with a false cheerfulness, "You now, the one you said was too dangerous, Mr. Jumping-Off-Buildings-Guy. If either one of you two care, they offered me the tester job! I'm going to make a lot more than I make at Bardwells, I'll get full dental and medical benefits, and a pension plan," she slurred triumphantly. "I start in three weeks, and I gave Mr. Hildebrand my notice today." She sat down victoriously and downed the rest of her glass.

Not surprisingly to her, they both started at once.

"Muffin, you had seniority at Bardwells..."

"Laverne, I thought we discussed this and you decided not to take the job."

"No, Sonny. We didn't discuss anything. I told you what I was going to do, and you told me you didn't want me to take it."

"So you took the job to prove I can't boss you around?" he asked incredulously.

"No," she said sadly, as she saw him clearly for perhaps the first time. "I took the job because it's a great opportunity. It's probably the best job I've ever been offered. For once, some one's paying me to think. Not to cap bottles, sere food, or wrap gifts, but to think. Like they think what I think matters," she said, still not quite believing it herself.

"Well," Sonny continued, "when you put it that way, this job sounds pretty important."

"Yeah. It is," Laverne responded as she felt her spirits lifting on the hope he DID understand.

"So, do you think it's fair you took it?"

"Huh?"

"C'mon, Laverne! If this job is so important, it's not fair for you to take it and then jus quit after a year of so. I mean, it takes money and time to train new employees. You took a job that some poor guy with a family to support could have had!"

She sat down heavily, as her last remaining hopes of a future with Sonny St. Jacques were dashed by his words.

Oblivious, Sonny blathered on, "Besides," he added as he looked meaningfully at her Pop, "I know it's not official or nothing, but in a couple of years, you'll probably be more interested in motherhood anyhow."

Frank said nothing, but grinned warmly at them both.

"Is this your idea of a proposal?" Laverne asked, as her lasagna threatened to make a return appearance.

"No, no," Sonny quickly back pedaled. "I still need to save up some money and see if this job takes me where I need to be before I make anything official."

"Before YOU make anything official," Laverne murmured, mostly to herself. "Have you noticed you've somehow changed the subject back to your job?"

"Laverne," he said as irritation finally found it's way into his voice, "my career is important to me, and I'm tired of you brushing it off like it's trivial."

"Like you did mine?"

"You don't have a career," he announced flatly. "I don't know what's wrong with you," he said as he began to pace back and forth as much as the tiny trailer would allow him to. "You've let the idea of this dumb job mix you up so much that you don't know whether you're coming or going."

"Muffin," her father interjected in a warning tone before he was interrupted by the ringing phone.

Ignorning her father as he walked to the phone at the other end of the trailer, Laverne replied to Sonny heatedly, "This job doesn't have me confused! In fact, right now it's the only bright spot in my life."

"Laverne, do you realize what you're saying? That you're choosing some silly job over me? Over us?" he said dumbfoundedly as he threw his hands up in amazement. "After all we've" he paused as his eyes glanced to Frank, "been though together," he said, the emphasis in his tone and the raising of his eyebrows telling everyone with half a brain cell what they had actually been through together.

"I just," she paused as tears threatened to overtake her, "I just don't think there's an us anymore, Sonny." She looked into his dark eyes, as her need for honesty overrode her need not to hurt, "I don't know if there ever was."

He sat down heavily, as though the wind had been knocked out of him. His eyes, glassy and unfocused looked at her, but Laverne knew he wasn't actually seeing her.

"Sonny, I'm sorry..." she began as he pushed himself suddenly past her and stormed to the door. "Sonny, wait! I don't want us to end this way," she pleaded, as the guilt rose within her.

He whirled around as he reached the trailer door, rage blazing in his eyes. "Putana!" he hissed as he barrelled through the door and out into the night.

Laverne's face flushed in humiliation and anger. Sonovabitch...

She turned towards her father, bracing herself for the next outburst.

What she saw scared the hell out of her.

Frank DeFazio sat on the floor of the trailer, the receiver dangling off of the table beside him. His face was ashen, and his eyes were vacant.

"Pop?" Laverne cried out as she rushed to him and knelt beside him. "Pop, I'm sorry!" she began as the tears she'd been holding back finally overtook her. "I know you wanted to see me and Sonny together..."

"Mama," he whispered, looking off into the distance.

"Grandma? What's wrong with Grandma?" Laverne pleaded as she grabbed his shirt front.

"That was your cousin Angelo," Frank continued in an eerily calm voice, "Mama had a stroke."

Laverne felt the color drain from her face as the drama of the past hour was put into perspective. "Is she..."

"She's in the hospital, Muffin." He looked at her and his eyes finally seemed to focus on hers. "We gotta go to New York."

FIN






To Chapter 3

On To Chapter 5











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