Missing Piece
By Missy

Slush poured from Laverne's heel as she emerged from the frigid New York street. Adjusting it on the way to the elevator, she let out a disgusted whine and cursed softly; waterproof her patootie! She was going to have it out with that salesgirl at Loehmans the next time she has an hour off. The doors swung open, admitting her to the small, creaking elevator that led to sixth floor of the apartment building and Shirley Ragusa's apartment. Slumping against the side, she let out a groan of relief.

"Hey! Nice day we're havin' eh?"

She shrieked and automatically swung her purse at the owner of the voice. The offender - a tall blond guy in a ratty stain jacket, hollered and covered his head. "Woah woah, stop hittin' me!"

"Yeah, gimmie a good reason!"

He paused and gave her a sheepish look. "'Cause I ain't gotten to peak up your skirt yet?" The purse promptly connected with his face, which ripped her bag open and spilled the contents all over the floor of the elevator.

"Aww crap!" Laverne groaned, getting on her knees - which was rather hard to accomplish while wearing four-inch heels and a pencil skirt - and started gathering everything up. She'd salvaged her compact and lipstick case before the big goof got on his knees beside her and clumsily tried to help out.

"I'm real sorry," he said, tears in his voice, "I didn't mean to make you smack me in the puss. I've just...you're really nice lookin', is all. You seemed like a nice girl."

"Yeah right," she snorted, picking up her (please don't let him see) tampon case. "I've gotta banana nose and big ears."

"Yeah, but you got legs that go all the way to Milwaukee."

"Are you from there?" He nodded. For the first time, Laverne turned to look at this guy. He was blond, with large blue eyes, a lovely mouth, and a guile-free smile. There was a kindness in them that made her stop and stare for a moment. He kept smiling, even when her response came out dismissively. "Do we have some kinda exchange program with that place? Shirl's from there."

"Shirl?" His eyebrows knit, and he gave her a confused look. "I went through school with a girl named Shirley." He chuckled. "All the guys used to call her the 'untouchable.' Turns out she and her boyfriend went all the way on prom night and they had to get married. Boy, I wonder whatever happened to her."

Laverne answered him by yanking at his lapels. "Hey, no one talk about Shirley like that!"

"Okay okay! Geez!" He pulled away, fixed his jacket. "Boy, Squig's right about girls. If you don't treat 'em to dinner first they go crazy on you!"

Laverne grumbled and turned away, retrieving a hankie, a tube of lipstick and, most importantly, a wad of cah. She counted again the four hundred dollars she'd gotten from her Uncle Nunzio (may he rest in peace, crazy eyebrows and all) and stuffed them back into her purse.

"Oh boy, watcha gonna do with all of that dough?" It was an excited look he wore, versus an avaricious one.

Laverne glared at the man. "I'm gonna make peperoni out of it. Whaddya think I'm gonna do? It's for Shirl's new baby. The rest we're gonna invest in the stock market together." She smiled. "With any luck, in a coupla years we'll have a restaurant of our own and I won't have to work for my stepdad no more."

"You've got a mom?" he wondered. She gave him a puzzled look, and he shrank before her. "I don't got one. Mine walked out...when I was five."

Why was this total stranger sharing this information with her? And why wasn't she telling him to cram a sock in it? She added, sympathetically, "my pop died when I was five."

"Sorry."

"It's no one's fault," she said, getting a foot underneath her and standing up. "It was a car accident."

"Guess we both got a problem with cars," he said awkwardly.

"Yeah," she replied, watching him stand. He was pretty tall, though - but in comparison to her own tallness it wasn't any great shakes.

"I'm Lenny," he finally said, "Lenny Kosnowski. Short for Leonard, but why'd you wanna call me something like that?"

"I'm Laverne," she said, offering him a hand. "How long've you been in town?"

"Me and Squig are just here on vacation," he chuckled. "Boy, this place ain't anything like Milwaukee. It ain't even like Chicago."

"That's nice," Laverne remarked, as the elevator doors opened. "Excuse me, Len, I've gotta get going."

"Oh sure. Me and Squig're gonna go see Godzilla versus Megalon at the Rialto before we hop a suitcase back to Milwaukee."

That distracted her enough to make her look up. "You like Godzilla movies?" she wondered.

"Yeah," he grinned. "I better go get Squig," he declared. Laverne realized he was following close behind her, and stopping with her at Shirley and Carmine's front door. "You know, he always thought Shirl was crazy about him. I wonder..." Lenny's curiosity was cut off by a shriek coming from the other side of the door, which creaked open. A short, greasy-haired man was shoved through the crack, and he dizzily clung to Lenny's lapels.

"Leonard! Take me away from this place!"

"That's right!" Shirley shouted. "FAR away!"

"You!" Squiggy shouted over his shoulder. "One day you shall be mine, Shirley Feeney Ragmoosa!"

"When cows fly!" Shirley shouted. She grabbed Laverne by the shoulder, hauled her into the apartment and shut the door. Laverne took one look around the place and instantly spotted the wear and tear of a fight.

"What the heck happened?" Laverne asked, holding her bag under her arm.

"That man tried to chase me around the sofa! He kept calling me is 'motherly passion slave' and tried to kiss my ankles!" She panted, bending over to pick Little Carmine up out of his bassinette; the baby cooed happily at Laverne.

"Do you want me to call the police?"

"No, no," she shrugged. "Andrew has always joked with me this way. He's very intense, but he's a good boy." She sat down with her happy, apple-cheeked little boy and dusted some imaginary dirt from her fingers. "I see you got along well with Leonard. He's a nice guy, too - a little strange, but nice. So, what's new?"

But Laverne was staring behind her, at the promise behind the locked door.

"What's wrong?" Shirley wondered.

"Nothing." But for Laverne, it was an odd feeling, as if she'd regret knowing Lenny, or contradictorily that a par of herself long-missing had been found.

Time would bear out which was the truth.