I Never Promised You a Pepsi Tree, Part 1
SERIES: I Never Promised You a Pepsi Tree
PART: One of ?
RATING: R-ish (For discussion of mature themes)
PAIRING(s): Lenny/Laverne/Fonzie Triangle; Shirley/Carmine/Richie Cunningham conflict; I'm thinking about what I'm to do with Rosie Greenbaum here, believe it or not..
DISTRIBUTION: To Squeaky, LW 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. 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"
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CATEGORY: Oh gads; help? Drama, definitely.
SETTING IN TIMELINE: L&S: Just before the girls are scheduled to move to California. HD: Post Pinky Tuscadaro and pre-Ashley and Heather for Fonzie; we'll pretend that Laurie Beth hasn't nor will happen for Richie. Sort of a WOTIF moment.
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: One of the girls turns up pregnant; the hows, and whys of which are truly shocking. Some white knights run to their rescues, and true colors are revealed.
NOTES: This is somewhat adultish and very, very heavy. No extreme language, but this story's going to tear your guts out.
"Everyone," Rosie Greenbaum noted from her perch by her apartment window, "Has a secret on this block. An' I know 'em all." She listened halfheartedly as a voice chattered into her ear, "Laverne and Shirley? Eh, there ain't nothin' new wit them bimbos. At least nothin' I kin repeat in mixed company...Yeah, especially DeFazio..." He laughter was a bit shrill, even to her own ear, "I gotta go, Anne; been nice talkin'. Yeah, Ogden's on his way home and I gotta talk to the maid about the way she's been lining up the towels...See ya. Yeah, bye.."
Rosie laid the phone back onto its cradle and, with an unusual-for-her expression of delicacy, alighted down a flight of stairs and to her car. In her gloved fist was a set of test results.
Yeah, she thought to herself, I know a lotta secrets. But I owe 'em..
She knotted her hands together, rubbing one knuckle against the other. Her eyes drifted closed and then flew open, foccussing on the Wendy Lou dolls they kept in a neat little row.
She couldn't help but wish for her childhood back. It was all so easy back then. Carefully, she played with the ruffles of the carefully pressed skirt of one doll, musing at how delicate everything seemed.
A sudden noise from the bedroom stirred her into thought; her eyes met her best friend's as she approached and moved down the hallway.
"Rosie's coming." She said quietly.
Arthur Fonzarelli stood before his full-length mirror, primping in an unusually obsessive manner. He had combed his hair until his scalp felt sore; his white teeshirt gleamed underneath a brightly-polished leather jacket. His surface was immaculate, but his natural cool was beginning to crack.
Ey, it ain't the end of the world. She's a high-class girl, and she's a lotta fun...I can see bein' mar..mar..mar.. His mind stuttered, refusing to complete the world, Cool it, Fonzarelli...Just play it cool...It ain't even the first time you asked a girl to mar...mar...mar... He wanted to slap himself. Taking a deep breath, he gave himself one last good look in the mirror.
He thrust both of his thumbs into the air. "Ayyyyy." He crooned to himself, a gesture of reassurance; at that moment, he was his old, cool self. For a moment, his mind filled with thoughts of Pinky and he had to shake his head to remove them. His heart pained him for more than a moment as he headed out of his apartment over the Cunningham garage; straddling his bike and driving himself away from the clean suburbia of his residence.
Toward the wrong side of the tracks.
And the Babbish/DeFazio apartments.
Rosie sauntered her way down the basement steps of the Babbish building; pettishly, as if armed with the knowledge that the walls were lined with deadly bacteria. At the foot of the steps, she rapped quickly on the door to her natural enemies' apartment. The door jerked open; a pair of eyes could be vaguely seen in the early-morning hours, right above a chain that remained latched.
"Yeah." The door slammed shut and she could hear locks turning on the other side. It slipped open silently, and Laverne gave her unusually wide berth. Without looking into either face, she placed the results onto an empty space on the sideboard shelf and made her way back to the doorway.
"I want you girls ta know Ogden hadta pull a lotta strings for this...You ain't gonna tell no one about...him, are ya? Ogden?" She asked suddenly.
Laverne shook her head, "No one. Don't tell no one 'bout this, neither. Or.."
"Yeah yeah; my teeth'll go to Peoria.." She tossed her fox backward, so that it rested comfortably across her shoulders, then sauntered out of the room. Both girls tried hard not to notice that it hid a bruise.
Laverne closed and locked the door, but Shirley was already on the document, which she ripped open and held up to the light.
Both women stood still, statues fixed upon their spots on the floor.
Shirley's eyes went wide, "Does that say what I think it does?"
Laverne gulped, "Yeah."
The brunette picked up the other document in the small folder. Her heart hammering a chant, OhpleaseGodohpleaseGodohplease...
Laverne was dressed with an hour's time, packing and labeling boxes. California...she didn't understand how they could make such a big change now, not after everything had changed so much...
A firm knocking sent her to the door, "Commin...comin..." She pulled the door open, shocked to see Fonzie standing at the other end of the door.
"Fonzmsmmpsh!" He cut her off in mid-word with a toe-curling kiss. His lips could melt a woman's butter, and she wilted against him like the many who came before her.
She frowned down at her arm as he embraced her, dismayed to see no bumps rising to the heavens on her forearms. "Waddya doin' here?"
He tilted his head, "Ya OK, DeFazio? Feel a little dizzy or somthin'?"
She shook her head, touching her hair self-consciously, "Fonz, don't joke around like that," He kept studying her, making her feel all the more uncomfortable, "FONZIE?!"
"Ah,...yeah...these're for you," He thrust a boquet of flowers into her hands; she wasn't shocked to realize that they were roses, "Classy flowers for a classy girl."
Laverne buried her nose in the bouquet, "Thanks." His look was inscrutable, "Yer lookin' at me like I got two heads on my shoulders. Tell me what's goin' on!"
He tilted his head, "Ya never could pull a punch, Laverne." He pointed to the couch, "Sittdown."
She was eerily reminded of the time Lenny proposed to her as she settled down. Her mouth fell open when Fonzie fell to his knees.
"NAW!" She cried, rising to her feet, "We ain't even been datin' steady! Are ya crazy?!"
"Laverne, it's all ova town.."
"What?" She turned white, "Whatisit?"
He took a deep breath, "Ralph Malph heard from his father that yer in trouble. Now, I ain't one fer takin' Ralph's word like it's God's, but he said his fatha's got it from Ogden Greenbaum, and if you girls knew that one a ya was pregnant, after what ya went through the last time, ya'd go through him."
"Rosie," She snarled, "I swear, if I see that bimbo again I'll rip out every hair outta her head!"
"Waitaminute; no one mentioned the Mrs. If it was anyone, it was Ogden."
Laverne crumpled to the couch, tears springing to her eyes, "Whattim I gonna do, Fonz?"
"It's you that's pregnant, ain't it?"
She swallowed hard, then said quickly, "Yeah, yeah, that's me; ol' pregnant Vernie..."
He pressed his finger to her lips, hushing her, "And you an' me...up at Inspiration Point a month ago..."
She blushed, "Yeah. We did do that, Fonz."
"And Ya said it was yer first time..."
"Yeah..." She looked over his shoulder, unable to meet his eyes.
"I'm askin' ya...ain't it mine?"
She flushed, "I...yeah..."
He closed his eyes, "This ain't eva happened to the Fonz before..."
She had heard rumors to the contrary, but said nothing, her hands folded in her skirt.
"I can't let the kid grow up wit no name..."
"...which is why yer down on your knee.."
"Are you tryin' to ask me somethin', Fonz?"
He swallowed, "Yeah...Laverne DeFazio...Would ya...would ya ma..ma..ma...ma..." He pounded the arm of her couch to regain his composure.
"You askin' me if I wanna marry ya, Fonz?"
Laverne had always hoped that when this moment came in her life it would be beautiful. She closed her eyes tightly to shut out the ugliness that surrounded her circumstances. Any woman in Milwaukee, in the entire world, would be glad to have Arthur Fonzarelli down at her heel proposing marriage.
"Yeah," She said, "Yeah, I'll marry ya, Fonzie." Her voice betrayed no emotion.
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