But He's MY Weirdo, Part 3
By MissyRATING: PG (Just because it involves mature themes, but it isn't an "adult" fic)
DISTRIBUTION: To Squeaky and FG so far; any other archives are welcome to ask, but disclaimers must be included, my email left intact. send a URL, and provide full disclaimers as well as credit me fully. Please inform me if you are going to submit my work to any sort of search engine. Â Please do not submit my work to a search engine that picks out random sets of words and uses them as key words, such as "Google"
Please contact me in order for this story to be placed on an archive, or if you want know of a friend who would enjoy my works, please email me their address and I will mail them the stories, expressly for the purpose of link trading. MiSTiers are welcomed! Please do inform me that you'd like to do the MiSTing, however, and send me a copy of the finished product. I'd also love to archive any MiSTings that are made of my work!
NOTES: Continuing right where we left off...
Part: 2-3
CATEGORY: L&L romance, S&C Romance, Humor, drama
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Will Squiggy save Rhonda from Dick? Will Lenny ever meet up with Laverne? And what about that proposal?!
****

Laverne buried her fists in the pleats of her skirt, trying to mask the shaking of her hands.

"You want to know what I'm doing here, right?" He pulled out a chair for her, upon which he sat, "First, you look beautiful: really, really beautiful."

"Aww," She smiled and blushed, looking down at her hands.

"Oh, and you're not dead; I always forget to tell people that part...You're not dead, but I'm here to tell you something..."

Laverne interrupted him, "Randy...what's it like ta be dead?"

He shrugged, "It wasn't so hard...I miss people, but you can't help being dead..." He shook his head, "You're not supposed to be asking questions, Laverne," He took a deep breath and said, "Don't worry about marrying Lenny. It'll all work out just fine."

Her face contorted as Laverne pouted, "What kinda advice is that?"

Randy's hands fell to his own lap as he said, "It isn't very good, is it?" He sighed, "Laverne, I know you're not over me..."

"Nah, Randy, I am..." She said, without conviction.

"But you should be. Laverne, I'm dead, and I can't come back. And you have a lot left to do with your life."

"Ya ain't mad at me fer..."

"Go on, say it.." He smiled.

"..Fer lovin' Lenny." She finished.

"Of course not; I wasn't mad at you when you had feelings for Sonny, either."

She gritted her teeth, "Don't mention him ta me again." She gritted her teeth, "Ya date a guy for a few months, ya give im yer heart, and he falls in love on location an' never comes home again.."

Randy shook his head, "He was a piece of slime."

Laverne frowned at him, "If ya knew that, why didn't ya stop me? Isn't that what angels do?" Her eyes went upward, "Ya are an angel, aren't ya, Randy? Ya gotta be. I know ya didn't go..." She looked at the floor.

He too her hand, gently, "If you hadn't gone out with Sonny, and really let yourself try to love someone, you wouldn't be nearly as ready as you are to be in love. Admit it, you do want to marry Lenny."

"Yeah," She admitted quietly, "I'm just so scared, Randy."

"Don't be scared." He urged her, "If you knew I was going to die, wouldn't you have loved me anyway?"

"It's not the dyin' I'm scared of," Laverne explained, "It's bein' alone. It's losin' Len." She clutched at Randy's hand; he felt so real, and it made her want to cry, "I don't wanna lose Len, Randy."

"Falling in love with anyone's a risk, Vernie," Randy told her gently, "But everything happens for a reason."

"Not you dying...That didn't happen fer no reason.." She said sadly.

"It did. Everything does," He said, his own sadness equaling hers, "One of the things you were meant to do is marry Lenny; to be his wife and have his kids. You were also meant to love him more than you could've loved me," Her face showed shock, "And I was meant to teach you how delicate life is." He held her to his form as she felt tears well up. "Now, that isn't your whole destiny, so don't think that's ALL you'll be doing." She quieted him with a kiss on the cheek.

"Randy," She said quietly, "Ya know..what you were gonna ask...I woulda said yes, right?"

In the silence that followed, a smile appeared on his face, "Yeah. I know you would've." He hugged her tightly, "You're gonna have a good, long life, Laverne. Sorry I can't be the one to share it with you."

"Yer always gonna be wit me anyway," with soul-deep honesty she informed him, "An some parta me's gonna always love ya."

He broke the embrace, "I love you too," Randy told her. Partingly, he let her go, stepped away.

***

Laverne awoke sweating, her face covered in tears.

But with a sense of peace and hope she hadn't had in years.

***

Hours later she sat out on the Knapp Street building's stoop; cross-legged and leaning against the handrails. Tugged at her green football jersey so that it rested closer to the broken zipper on her jeans. She watched with great interest as the Arcola's and their friends (many of whom she didn't recognize) played stickball in the middle of the closed-down street. It was an hour before the carnival was set to officially open.

"Ya sure you girls don't need another player?"

Joanie Arcola looked up from her task at hand, which just happened to be pitching past home plate, "Thanks, Laverne, but we've already got enough people for a team."

Laverne sighed, "Ah, OK..." With that, Joanie pitched; the ball sailed right by Chachi's bat, to her delight. Laverne laughed at her antics, but couldn't help and feel the awkwardness underlying every action made toward her that afternoon. She'd somehow become an old maid in these youthful eyes; counting in the years she had on all of them made her about the age of an older sister or baby sitter. She wondered briefly where Potsie was, then she recalled that he'd gone off on tour with Leather Tuscadaro as her opening act. Leather was always doing favors for her friends from Milwaukee; one year she'd invited Ralph Malph to perform standup for her overseas..they'd returned engaged.

Laverne shifted against the cold cement of the porch; Her fugicle was dripping in the heat of the setting sun. She almost dropped it with the sound of a horn honking further up the street. With his usual elegance, the Fonz smoothly parked his Cadilac and slipped out, earning him shouts of "Fonz!" and "Fonzie!" from the group of amateur athletes. Fonzie acknowledged their words with his usual cool; he siddled over to his wife's side of the car and opened it.

Pinky, noted Laverne, had regained her rather breathtaking figure since bringing her latest Fonzarelli into the world; baby Howie cooed prettily in her arms as her husband tried to shepherd their kids onto the sidewalk. Three kids paraded by Laverne; from pictures she recognized Danny, the child Fonzie had adopted; then Marianne, their only girl, who's' name had been derived from Marion, Mrs. Cunningham; and Rich, who, at three, already resembled his father.

"Fonzie!" Laverne couldn't resist calling out to her former date. A grin broke out across Fonzie's face as he strutted over to great her.

"De-Faz-I-o!" He called, she stood to meet him. Both of them nearly joined in what was once their customary hello kiss, but they managed to quickly turn it into a hug. "Ya look incredible!"

"Awww; ya don't look half bad, neither; I guess haven' kids don't turn ya gray right away afta all." She smiled over Fonzie's shoulder to Pinky, "You must be Pinky."

"Ey...you must be..." She looked to Fonzie for some prompting. He pretended not to notice her agitation and started a conversation with Marianne, asking her if she wanted an ice cream like 'this nice lady here'. Finally Pinky snapped her fingers, which sent her husband instinctively upward, "Well, which one is she?"

"This," said Fonzie, wrapping an arm around Laverne's shoulder, "Just happens ta be Laverne Marie DeFazio; her pop usedta own the Pizza Bowl."

"Ahh!" Said Pinky, smiling as she switched Howie from one arm to the other, "Sorry; when yer husband's dated halfa the town, all the faces kinda smear. You're onea the more memorable ones, though." She settled Howie against her breast as she asked, "Mind if we sit?"

"Nah," Laverne said, "I'm kinda lonely, actually."

"Lonely?" Fonzie asked, "Laverne DeFazio, lonely?"

"Yeah," She laughed, "Whoda Thunkit?" She watched as Joanie Cunningham sent a stray ball careening through a popcorn stand, causing much laughter among her friends.

"Ey, watch that arm, Shortcake!" Came Fonzie's cry, earning him a bemused expression from Joanie. He shook his head, "I rememba a time when they'd be beggin' me ta come play fer them. Now lookit us," He shook his head as Marrianne dripped fugicle all over his clean jeans.

She laughed, "Well, if yer ova tha hill, Fonz.."

"I neva said I was ova the hill," Fonzie said sharply, shooting Laverne a warning look.

"If yer...'of a certain age'...lookit me," She tucked the cuff of her jeans deeper into the boots she wore.

"Yeah, lookit ya," Fonzie grinned in a smarmy way, earning him an affectionate smack from his wife.

"No use flirtin' wit me now, Fonz," Said Laverne, "Yer lookin' at an engaged woman."

"'Engaged woman?'" He echoed, "Some guy finally tamed ya! I don't believe it!"

"Fonz, ya know I ain't tame," She teased, "Yer gonna fall ova when I tell ya who it is, tho.."

"Lemme guess; fireman, policeman or sailor?"

"Ice cream man."

Fonzie started to laugh, "That's real funny, DeFazio...the only ice cream man I know is Lenny Kos.." His eyebrows rose upward as he examined her face, "Yer in love with Lenny?!"

Pinky shook her head as she bounced Howie on her knee, "Don't judge 'er, Fonz; we ain't exactly the picture've perfection."

"Yeah.." She looked at her knees, "It's a long story....I'm goin' home to California soon ta tell 'im."

"Looks like ya got yer chance now." Fonzie said, watching Lenny as he marched down the side street.

Laverne's lips fell apart as she watched his approach; disheveled, sweaty, but with a face filled with determination, he marched toward her. In the setting sun, the yellow of his shirt melded perfectly with the dirty blond of his hair and the medium brown of his pants. In his right fist there dangled a handful of daisies.

She stood up instantly at his approach.

"Len," she began as he reached her, but his look hushed her.

"Ya gotta lemme speak my piece, Laverne," He said, then handed her the daises, "These're fer you." She took the flowers from him and held them as he said, "Laverne, I ain't the smartest guy in th' world..I got lucky wit the songs I sold, an' gettin' inta college was some sorta miracle....I ain't some great big stud like Clarke Gable....I ain't gonna be. Neitha are ya. But I love ya. I've loved ya since I met ya, an' I'm gonna keep lovin' ya. Yer the only girl in th' world that makes me feel this good...I ain't big on speaches. I ain't big on proposals. But yer my best girl; ya always will be. I love ya, An', fer the last time, Laverne, will ya marry me?"

He knelt there; right in the middle of the stickball game, digging the ring right out of his pocket. K.C.'s friend Rodger had to run around him to make it to third base. In any case, he stalled the game.

Everyone stopped, stared at Laverne. Even the children were quiet. Laverne stepped down the front steps, carefully, coming to stand before him. She ran her fingers through his hair. "Len?"

"Yeah?" He spoke quietly, remembering very distinctly this moment from his first proposal.

"Yes."

"I knew it!" He cried out, sadly, trying to get away from her; then the meaning of her words began to come to life, he lept to his feet and crushed her in his arms, "Really?! Yes?" He asked, letting go of her briefly.

She nodded her head, "Yes."

He flipped the ring box open and pulled it out, her heart nearly stopped as it slid carefully home around her ring finger. He clutched her in his embrace, spinning them both around in laughing circles of pure joy as the gathered audience applauded them.

At that very second, all of the lights went on in the carnival. As he held her tightly against him, music began to pipe through Knapp street.

Laverne wasn't shocked that the first played song was by The Ocean Breezes.

"They're playin' our song," He pointed out. And it had such a cheesy but true ring to it that she sighed and gave him a shove.

"Yer such a big dope," she uttered.

And then she kissed him.



Back To Part 2

On To "One Door Closes and Two Windows Open"































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