PART: 1 of 1
RATING: PG (Adult Content)
PAIRING(s): L/L
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CATEGORY: Romance
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SETTING IN TIMELINE: Post-Show AU.
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: You do not have to be heard to be
understood (Lavenny, post-show)
NOTES: For Ashley, in celebration of her birthday. An appetite wetter, if you will...
***
She murmured
something indistinct against his shoulder - a prayer combined with a sigh. It was sometime past the
His weight shifted slightly against hers, releasing her from
his arms. They were tired from the
party, her ribbons limp from the heat of the un-air-conditioned August
afternoon, and he needed a rest and some punch to perk up his tired body.
The settle outside, in the marginally
cooler air. He brings her spiced
lemonade and they listen to cars whistle by on the street below.
Do you think it's time
to turn in? she asks.
Too hot, he
replies.
Wrinkles mark the passage of his years - she sees him in the
light of the street lamp. His hair has
fallen out or turned a strange yellow-tinged gray, and his teeth are crooked in
his mouth. She knows she's aging
herself, softer and more malleable than she had been in her youth.
It was a good party she
says.
The
best. Jodi's a good cook - at least one of us
taught her something.
Laverne smiled. Their
daughter was willful and unable to learn anything beyond what she wanted
to. The
girls are so big now - and Laurie's so tall...
Chip off the old
cement block. You always said I was too
tall...
Not too tall to do
this. His lips taste like
screwdrivers and barbecue, but his tongue tastes like coconut cake.
You're not supposed to
have sweets.
He smirks. It's hard to remember what not to do when
you can't yell at me.
Her eyes flicker darkly, and he regrets his words.
I can't help
that. And the doctor did say he was
sorry he put me through that scraping for nothing...
I know. But you're alive, Vernie. You're alive and I still have you.
Do you wish I could
talk right now?
Yeah. I liked it when you'd yell at me.
Len...
Okay - I miss hearing
you sing.
I'm a lousy singer.
Depends on who was
listening.
She rubs the back of his hand. That's
why we're so happy.
'Cause
you can't sing?
Because
most guys leave their wives when shit starts.
I'm never leaving you.
"Dad?"
Lenny swiveled around, catching sight of Jodi standing in
the doorway. She had once been his
little girl, but now she was fifty.
"I called you guys a cab," she smiled
deferentially at her mother and said loudly, "MOM, I WRAPPED UP SOME RIBS
FOR YOU."
Laverne rolled her eyes and scribbled in large letters on
her notepad quickly, I can't talk, but I
CAN hear.
Jodi, her Kosnowski genes showing through, smiled
dumbly. "OKAY, MOM. I'LL GET YOUR COAT."
Laverne sighed as the girl left them be. She tried a few words, but they came out in a
garbled growl.
"I hate laryngitis, too," Lenny smiled.
She rolled her eyes again.
Laryngitis: it's only a little bit
better than cancer..
"That's what I hear," he said fondly. He scooped up the pad and pencil and handed
them back to her. "The doctor said
you should have your voice back by Monday."
She scribbled quickly, I hope it'll be Saturday.
"I do, too."
She stopped in her daughter's messy and now abandoned living
room. With fluency, she wrote, dancing's always been
easier than talking. Let's dance.
He wrapped his arms around her and muttered a 'happy
birthday' in her ear.
When their daughter came upon them a few moments later, she
tried very hard to hear the song her parents were waltzing to.