SERIES: Woman 'Cross The River

PART: 2 of ??

RATING: PG (Adult thematic material, language, adult content)

PAIRING(s): L/L

DISTRIBUTION: To LW, Myself 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"

 

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!

CATEGORY: Drama

FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!

SETTING IN TIMELINE: Includes canon up to "The Cruise" - roughly six years later.  This fic is set in 1965.

SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Laverne meets an unforgiving ghost on her summer vacation.

NOTES: I'm considering making this sharable or collaboration.  If there's no takers by next week, I'll be flying solo.

 

Warning: portions of this fic are not for people with weak stomachs.

 

***

 

"I'll make you a sandwich."

 

Emmy pouted, stomping back into the kitchen area.  "I wanna play, Mamma."

 

Laverne glowered at her daughter - the one person in her life who was all but a carbon copy of herself.  "It's getting late - almost six.  I'll make you a nice peanut butter sandwich with some soup and run a bath and get you in bed."

 

The little girl rolled her eyes.  "But we're on vacation!"

 

She cast her daughter a sympathetic glance.  "I know, baby.  But you got to sleep and eat the same times you do at home."  Emmy didn't perceive her mother's thin truths as an excuse, but looked forlorn and tiny as she squirmed up onto a kitchen chair.  Laverne kindly kissed the girl's forehead, and heard a tiny self-pitying sniffle escape her sinuses.  "You okay?"

 

"Uh-huh."  Emmy wiped her nose along the back of Laverne's hand.

 

The mother grunted, leaving her son in a booster seat, then walking over to the sink and washing her hands.  Satisfied that her hand was clean, Laverne began to rummage through the kitchen cabinets.  The cabin's previous occupants had vacated a week earlier and had left scant supplies, but she managed to dig up a loaf of day-old bread and a half-used jar of peanut butter.  She found a white-rimmed pink china plate and began the process of making sandwiches.  After completing five, she rifled through the kitchen's crisper looking for edible carrots and celery - most of the carrots were beginning to head south, but she found two that were fresh enough to consume.  She placed them on the counter and selected a butcher knife from a maple chopping block, beheading the unpeeled tubers before chopping each root into match-stick sized slices.  A small pile would feed them - the celery lost their green tops and dirt-brushed lower halves, giving up their green bodies to a pile of equally-sized sticks.  It was standard restaurant procedure, but in this case she wasn't as cautious about uniform size and weight as she might be for patrons at the Pizza Bowl.  The Kosnowskis, after all, were not very fond of vegetables.

 

Two arms snaked across Laverne's middle in mid-chop, and she flailed for a moment with the shock.  Lenny held her firmly between his body and the counter, waiting for her surprise to diffuse - when it did, she pressed her head against his chest to look up into his face.

 

"Scarin' a girl while she's holdin' a knife ain't bright," she complained.

 

"So?  I ain't bright," he jocularly noted.  She snorted, returning to the celery.  "Got Squig to finish up the unpacking - don't gimmie that look, I put away the private junk. Want me to help with dinner?"

 

"Yeah - see if there's some soup and put it on the stove."

 

"Okay - Emmy, you having fun watching your baby brother?" Lenny reached over his wife's head, opening a cabinet and picking out two cans of vegetable soup.

 

"No." Emmy said, her tone lifeless.

 

Lenny chuckled.  "She's honest."

 

"She's mine, that's for sure," Laverne snorted.  "Hey Squiggy!" She shouted. 

 

"WAAH?"

 

"Look into Dominick's baby bag - get out a jar of carrots and a jar of bananas and bring them down with his baby spoon."

 

Silence.  "Which one's the baby bag?"

 

Laverne snorted derisively.  "The one with the little yellow duckies on it."

 

"Geesh!  How'm I supposed to know that?  You got sixty bazillion bags up here!"

 

"Any idiot knows what a baby bag looks like!" Laverne retorted.

 

"Well, ain't you fancy!  When I was a baby, my mother wrapped my tush in the Milwaukee Times and fed me yesterday's meat loaf!"

 

"Squiggy, that's not true!" Laverne replied.  "Who would feed meatloaf to a baby?"

 

"She did!  She wanted to be just like Missus Clever!"

 

"Len!  Watch the soup!" The brew of tomatoes and pasta had begun to bubble around the edges - Lenny turned down the heat.  "You gotta watch soup - you boil out all of the juices and it turns into garbage."

 

"Aww, I ain't dumb," Lenny said as he went in search of bowls and spoons. "Who'd be stupid enough to eat garbage for supper, anyway?"

 

"Hello!" Squiggy walked into the kitchen area, dumping jars of baby food onto the table.  "The chow ready yet?"

 

Laverne turned around and burst into laughter - Squiggy sported a pink inner tube, neon-green swimming goggles, a purple flowered bathing cap, orange water wings, his hi-tops, and bright-blue swimming trunks.  "You look wonderful, Squig."

 

"Maybe I should change," Squiggy wondered. 

 

"Squig..." Lenny warned.

 

"Mebbe not...If a chick who's dead below the waist thinks I'm handsome, I'm gonna be swimmin' in women by the end of the night!"

 

"Aww, you always look great." Lenny concluded, ladling out the soup into a succession of earthenware bowls.

 

"I know - there's gotta be wrong with the chicks in Milwaukee!  I'm twice as handsome as you and I ain't had a steady date in years."

 

"What about Francine?" Laverne wondered as she lumped the vegetables onto a platter. 

 

"Eh, she keeps sayin' she has to stay home and cut her lawn."

 

"So?"

 

"She lives in a walk-up on Montgomery Street."

 

Laverne shoved the platter of vegetables into Squiggy's open hands.  "Put them over on the table for me, okay?"

 

"I gotta eat veggies on vacation?"

 

"Yes," Laverne tonelessly said, allowing no arguments.  She picked up her peanut butter sandwiches and carried them to the table, then relayed the bowls of soup to via Lenny.  "Can you get some milk, honey?"

 

"Yup."  Laverne pushed her chair against Dominick's high chair and opened up one of the jars of baby food.  Someone had spread newspaper across the high chair - Laverne didn't recall asking for it, and Squiggy didn't tend toward such thoughtfulness usually.  She didn't mind having the task completed, and her world melted to nothingness as she concentrated on getting as much food into Dominick's mouth as possible without destroying the furnishings. 

 

Her mind wandered away in moments like these - into the loveliness of her son, the fading of the night, and the past....

 

***

 

1959

 

Laverne listed against the railing of the ship.  Her white fingers clutched desperately around the railing as she clenched her jaw. 

 

Breathe, She ordered herself, as she ship swayed and plastered her sweaty knees against the railing.  You won't throw up. 

 

She took two longer, deep breaths of air.  Gradually, her nausea faded away.  She smiled waveringly; finally ready to join the dance going on inside...

 

A meaty hand clamped down on her shoulder abruptly.  "Hey, Laverne."

 

Normally, she would have been simply been shocked by the sudden touch. Instead, her stomach took the caress as a signal to empty itself of what little it contained right there on the deck. 

 

As her muscles ceased their straining, his voice floated back over her consciousness.  "Geez, are you okay?"  To her embarrassment, he was already on his knees, mopping up her sick with that omnipresent red bandana of his. 

 

She knew, just knew, that he was never going to throw away that handkerchief.  When she could, she opened her eyes and glared at him.  "Seasick," she gargled.  "Better than yesterday."  She gulped and continued evenly, "what are you doing here?!  I saw you get lifted off on a helicopter!"

 

"I WAS lifted up by a helicopter.  We had a real nice view, right over the Sound - the seagulls were flyin' around us like we was tuna!"

 

"Why aren't you back in Milwaukee?"

 

"It's cause of the seagulls, Laverne.  See, Squig's always been afraid of them, since he was real little..."

 

"Don't tell me..."

 

"He started screamin' and kickin' and he...kicked until we fell out of the rope."

 

"Did Squiggy drown?" She felt bad about the hopefulness in her voice.

 

"Nah - he decided to swim for the shore.  I said he was a dope, 'cause the shore was five miles out and the ship was way closer.  So I doggy-paddled 'til I got here!"  He rocked modestly on his heels.

 

"You ain't sore?"

 

"Nah - I'm sure Squiggy's not mad at me anymore."

 

Laverne sighed at their cross-purposes.  "Sorry I gotta leave you There's a dance goin' on downstairs, Len - they've got a band and punch and some single dreamboat sailors that just scream 'Laverne'."

 

"How can they scream your name if they don't know you yet?"

 

"Well, they're gonna know it by the end of the night," she straightened her bodice.  "How do I look?  Are my teeth all pukey?"

 

"Nah, you look good...hey, Laverne, what do I care about sailors?"

 

"Well, wherever there're sailors, there're loose girls..."

 

"I don't follow."

 

She groaned, standing on her tip-toes and whispering in his ear.  His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

 

"They'd do that?!" He gasped.

 

"And more, if you buy 'em dinner."

 

He bit his palm.

 

She chuckled.  "So you'll come down with me?  And you don't care if I ditch you?"

 

His eyes darkened perceptively, but he said, "nah."

 

"Okay." She took his hand.  "'Cmon.  I'll introduce you to..." Laverne tried to remember the name of the girl she'd met playing shuffleboard.  "Careen!"

 

"Does she have big..."

 

"She's built like a violin."

 

"Oooh!  A musician!"

 

Laverne chuckled at Lenny's innocent tone.  Something about that boy made her feel so very safe - but now that she was over her sickness she wanted anything but safety for the night.

 

And if Shirley's Agatha Christie books were right, she was bound for a hell of a night.

 

***

 

As a spoonful of icy vegetable matter smacked Laverne in the cheek, she broke her reverie.  She scolded Dominick, wiggling the spoon from his chubby fist and scraping the last of the mashed carrots from the jar and into his rosebud mouth. 

 

In the background, she could hear Emmy eating, knew that Lenny was listening as she chattered on.  Over the din of Squiggy's chewing Laverne heard the girl begging to be let outside to go swimming with Squiggy after dinner was finished. Lenny was visibly conflicted by her begging, and turned an eye to his wife - the disciplinarian, as always, by default - for advice.

 

Laverne shook her head.  "We got time for a bath and a story before you go to sleep."

 

Emmy pouted, and Lenny came to her defense.  "She won't be out late - it ain't gonna take long for a little dip."

 

"I promise that if she gets to bed on time, I'll let her swim tomorrow."

 

"Aww..." Lenny stuck a bit of celery between his lips, jutting out his jaw and looking quite simian.

 

"We gotta keep the kids on a schedule, or they'll get tired n' sick."  Laverne placed the empty jar of carrots on the table and reached for the pears - not bananas as she requested, but Dominick didn't mind. 

 

"I'm not sick!" Emmy said crossly.  "I haven't been sick in...ever!"

 

"How long is an ever?" Lenny asked.

 

"A long time," Emmy said smartly. 

 

"You're brainy for someone with peanut butter all over her face," Laverne teased.  Lenny reached over and began to dab away the sticky mess from his daughter's cheeks.

 

"P-U," Squiggy groused.  "I'm gonna go eat my sandwich on the porch."

 

Laverne watched him waddle to the door in amusement.  She took the empty jars of baby food and dumped them in a trash can, then wiped Dominick's face.  

 

Lenny chuckled.  "You all done, Em?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Ready for your bath?"

 

"NO."

 

Lenny snorted.  "I'll go get it all set for you - your nightclothes 're all in the top drawer in the second room on the left."

 

Emmy grumbled, but marched upstairs, following Lenny to the upper level.  Laverne listened to the water run and marveled at the now-empty table while burping Dominick.

 

"Boy, you're getting heavy," she told the baby.  "You're gonna be walking soon - then you ain't gonna want to spend time with me, either."  She wiped away the self-pitty as her son let out a hearty burp.  Satisfied, she placed him back in his highchair and quickly ate her own dinner.  In the silence of the afterward, she wondered, against her own will, if Shirley had another baby of her own to burp now.

 

Laverne distracted herself, changing Dominick, then walking him upstairs and changing him into his onesie on the bed in the master bedroom.  Satisfied that he was set for the night, she carried him to Emmy's room and laid Dominick down in his playpen.  The little boy fell slowly into a deep sleep, and his mother vacated the room.

 

Downstairs, she found Lenny already removing the dishes from the table.  "She get into the bath okay?"

 

"Yeah, she didn't fight me for once." Lenny chuckled.

 

"She never liked baths," Laverne recalled as she helped him finish clearing the table.

 

"Remember when we had to clean Emmy up for the first time?  I thought she was gonna wiggle out of my arms."

 

Laverne cackled, picking up the empty glasses of milk.  "I don't blame her for being scared.  You were holdin' her away from your body like you were afraid to touch her!"

 

"Emmy was so little back then.  I though I was gonna squish her."  he turned on the water, and handed her a large piece of cheesecloth.  "Wanna dry?"

 

She nodded - as usual, Lenny moved through the dishes much more speedily than she did. Since they weren't her own, Laverne ignored the occasional minor trace of peanut butter as it passed her by. 

 

"You put Dominick down?" He asked.

 

"Yep."

 

Lenny peered over his shoulder.  "This mean we're alone?"

 

Laverne grinned, placing the last, dry cup where it belonged.  "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

 

"You wondering how they get peanut butter in the jar, too?"

 

Laverne grabbed Lenny by his slim hips, pressing her body to his.  "No."

 

His grin was devilish.  "It's seven o'clock..."

 

"We used to do it at noon.  In front of open windows."

 

Lenny snorted.  "Who was that young couple?"

 

"Want me to remind you?"

 

He lowered his chin, aligning their mouths like magnets.

 

Upstairs, the sudden wailing of a baby and Emmy's shouts of "Daddy!  Daddy!" broke their intimate embrace.  They tried to locate Squiggy, but he had already abandoned his sandwich plate on the deck and could be seen splashing in the water below.

 

"Rain check," Lenny insisted.

 

"Definitely."  Laverne then pushed down her tee-shirt and re-arranged her expression into that of a caring mother.

 

***

 

Twenty minutes later, Laverne lay in bed listening to the shower run. Once upon a time, she would've never been able to convince Lenny to take a shower.  Parenthood had changed them both - mentally and, she patted her thickened middle, physically.  Their lifestyle had morphed, too - where sex had once been spontaneous, it was now planned and arranged.  That didn't damage their connection - it just differed their lifestyle.  Though their sex was certainly less choreographed than it had been when they tried to conceive their children - and pre-pill.  She gave thanks once more to the advent of that wonderful little capsule, which meant no more gaps and breaks in their connection to insert diaphragms. 

 

Another great thing about planning sex out - it allowed her to develop a mood.  And, despite her exhaustion, hours of whining from Squiggy and questions from Emmy, Laverne she was in the mood.  The timing could not be better: Dominick had woken up for a diaper change, and Laverne had checked his bottle of water and the time - he would not waken for the rest of the night.  While she made sure that Squiggy would be all right - he planned on a night of wine, women, and beachcombing- and prepared herself, Lenny read to their daughter - even though their daughter was doing so well in the first grade that she had the prowess to read to him.  Finally, Laverne took a shower, and on her way to the stall she heard Lenny singing softly to Emmy.  It was their nightly routine - he would sing and brush her hair, somehow comforting her to a state of near sleep.  Emmy would never let Laverne anywhere near her hair - she alleged that Laverne pulled too hard - but her father could comfort Emmy to a state of quiet grace.  On Laverne's walk to the master bedroom, she heard Lenny singing "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" in the softest, sweetest voice - the sound of it had turned her insides to hot cream.  Years of experience meant that the small things were erotic to Laverne.

 

When Lenny appeared, his hair slicked habitually back with water, torso still dripping, it was all his wife could do to keep from jumping him. He flopped into bed beside her, their legs stroking against one another - he grinned and placed his hand on her inner left thigh. 

 

That was their old, silent signal from home - a nice gesture, but he didn't need to do it.  "Are you kidding?" She said.

 

He threw himself over her body.

 

In their frantic tangle of limbs and tongues, Laverne had no time to think - her form was beautified in the light.  

 

He pulled away from her suddenly.  "You do your 'thing'?"

 

He was asking her if she'd taken her pill - he still had no idea how her birth control pills worked, but he didn't need to.  She nodded, reaching for him, but he sat firm.  "Why wouldn't you let Emmy go swimming?  She said she saw a nice girl on the other side of the lake."

 

Laverne's skin was suddenly icy.  "I told you why."

 

"That doesn’t make sense.  You ain't into schedules that much..."

 

"I don't wanna talk about it," She tried to kiss him.

 

"Tell me the truth."

 

She sighed.  "I saw Shirl."

 

"Shirley's here?"  His eyes lit up.  "You guys made up!  Boy, I ain't seen Shirl since our wedding - I wonder if she got fat..."

 

"If we had made up, I woulda told you we made up," She pushed down her green jersey, over his splayed hand.  "I saw her and she saw me, so I dragged Emmy inside."

 

"You never told me what you guys fought about.  I wonder if she ever married that Ensign Bensen guy she was datin'..."

 

"Who cares?  I don't wanna think about it," She wrapped her arms around his neck.  "'Cmere..."

 

"But what're you gonna do if she comes up to you?"

 

"Avoid her."

 

"But you can't do that forever."

 

"Len..." Her hands roamed down his back.  "This is my vacation.  Everyone knows it's a crime to think on your vacation."

 

He grinned.  "Well, I ain't a criminal..."

 

 

***

 

"GOOD MORNING, GOOD MORNING!"

 

Laverne hated Emmy's first-grade teacher for making her practice that song.  Emmy had been singing it every morning since...

 

Emmy was in the room.

 

Laverne's eyes flew open, and she glanced downward - Lenny had pulled the covers over their nude bodies sometime during the night.  Thankfully, Emmy hadn't noticed the scattered scraps of clothing she danced among.  "Morning, honey." Laverne kept herself tastefully covered and planted a kiss on her daughter's cool, smooth forehead.

 

"Uncle Squiggy says that Dominick put a load in his pants, but he cleaned him up." She announced.

 

"Where did he put the old diaper?" Laverne worried.

 

"He said he's gonna feed the plants with it.  Then he made us hot dogs for breakfast!"

 

"Hot dogs?  But the baby don't have teeth!"

 

"He knew, so Uncle Squiggy chewed it up and spat pieces of hot dog into Dominick's mouth."

 

"Ugghh..." Laverne moaned.

 

"Dominick liked it!  Then he told me to get into my swim suit and he took Dominick down to the lake.  He said he'd teach me how to do the Dead Man's float!  Can I go?"

 

It was a moment of trial for Laverne.  She could give in to her fear of confronting the past and spend the rest of her vacation inside - or she could go outside and live her life, come rain or shine.   

 

"You got get your towel and I'll be right out."

 

Emmy's valkryie shriek could have woken the dead - and it did waken her dead-to-the-world husband.  Fighting his way up from underneath a pillow, he located Laverne, then smiled sleepily.  "What’re we doing?"

 

"What normal people do on vacation.  Swimming."

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