Part 3: Carmine's Choice
Five months later...

This has gone beyond ridiculous. Carmine punched the heavy bag hanging from the exposed beam in his apartment. Perspiration dripped into his eyes, made him blink rapidly. She can't expect me to wait for her forever!

Wasn't Lenny supposed to be dead by now?

Carmine bit his lower lip and sent an angry flurry of jabs into the bag. Nice, Ragusa, he thought. Now he was wishing for an innocent guy's life to hurry up and end because it was an inconvenience to have him around?

Shame on you. He imagined Shirley's upper lip curling, her arms folded tightly across her bosom, head shaking.

But, damn it all, he was sick of playing the martyr. He and Laverne had a good thing going until Lenny's health abruptly went south. Even then, he'd thought it was a temporary lull, a couple months apart while she cheered up a dying friend. No big deal.

Except three months had already lapsed and Lenny was looking pretty healthy for a corpse. And what was worse? Laverne was in love with him.

"Not that she'll admit it, oh, no," Carmine panted at the bag. He socked it to punctuate each sentence. "She says she has fun with him, that they get along great, but is she willing to own her real feelings?" He snorted. "Even though they're as obvious as the nose on her face!"

He gave the bag one last punch and collapsed on his threadbare couch. As he tugged off his gloves, Carmine wondered why he was really angry. He and Laverne hadn't been together since that last, frenzied encounter when she told him she wanted to seriously give it a go with Lenny for as long as they had. Hell, in all reality, they'd never been together, not the way he'd been with Shirl.

So why are you so ticked off? he wondered, not for the first time. Why do you even care anymore? It wasn't like he couldn't get laid if he put in the effort. He just didn't much like trolling bars anymore or even responded to the flirtatious looks he got after singing at Cowboy Bill's.

Carmine tossed his boxing gloves aside. "Am I in love with Laverne?" he asked aloud. He wanted to hear the words in his ears, test their truth by putting them out into the world.

He closed his eyes and mulled it over. Did he have real feeling for Laverne, despite all their promises to one another to keep it casual? Had he fallen for her after all?

Against the screens of his eyelids, he saw the truth. It wasn't Laverne's face smiling back at him.

It was Shirley's.

"Oh, Angel Face," he murmured, startled by the tears that suddenly rose to dampen his lashes. "Why didn't I stop you from marrying that ass Meaney? Why didn't I step up before he did?"

Because you weren't ready yet. After a decade, you still weren't up for a real commitment. Her mummy of a doctor was, though, about a minute after they started dating. Besides, wasn't he what Shirley had always, ever wanted, a doctor-husband of her very own? Things had worked out exactly right. She'd gotten her dream come true and he'd gotten his precious freedom. All's well that ended well, and all that crap.

Except.

Carmine opened his eyes with a shiver of realization. It wasn't Laverne he missed, not really. Oh, sure, they'd had a hot time of it, a good time, but what was she really but a stand-in, his last connection to the woman he really loved. His Miss Right, who he'd let slip away while he dithered over the wisdom of marrying before he'd 'made it,' whatever the hell that meant.

Carmine stood up slowly. His knees creaked in protest, reminding him again that he wasn't a kid with more good years ahead of him than behind anymore. Laverne once told him it was time to get off his duff and do something already, in no uncertain terms. It was high time he took her up on that advice.

He looked around his little apartment, the shabby and sparse furnishings, the Golden Gloves hanging on the wall and his other, assorted little trophies for this sing-off and that dance contest. Not bad, more recognition than a lot of guys got in their lifetime. But, when compared to his dreams and ambitions, way too little.

Not too late though. Not yet.

Carmine jogged into the bathroom and fired up the shower. A new eagerness surged through him, brought an excitement he hadn't felt since Laverne had moved on with Lenny. Hell, I only came to California to be near Shirley, he thought. There was nothing holding him here anymore. Hollywood had proven itself a dead end where he was just another in a long line of guys with talent waiting for a lucky break. He didn't belong here, didn't fit in. He was a city boy at heart, and he belonged in a place where a guy could make things happen, not waiting around hoping to be plucked from the crowd.

He stripped and stepped into the shower, then started singing, "If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere. It's up to you...!"

#

Carmine spotted Lenny and Laverne sitting together at what had become their usual table at Cowboy Bill's. He jogged over to them, pleasantly surprised that, for the first time in awhile, he didn't feel a jab of irritation at seeing them cuddling in public. His heart was too full of renewed hope for his future and he couldn't wait to share his decision with his friends.

As he approached the table, though, he heard Laverne squeal. She clapped and bounced in her chair as Lenny slid to the floor. Carmine started forward, worried that this was it, the poor guy was going down for the count, but then realized Lenny had simply settled onto one knee as he held up a small box with something sparkling in its exposed center.

Whoa. Carmine froze and stared, as Lenny said, "Laverne, would you make me the happiest, most luckiest guy in the world by doing me the honor of becoming my bride?"

"Oh, Len, it's beautiful!" She grabbed the box out of his hand and held the diamond ring close to her eye. "Is this real?"

Lenny chuckled. "No, I got it outta some Cracker Jack. Duh, of course it's real!" He snatched the box back and took the ring out. Carmine found he was holding his breath as he watched Lenny take Laverne's trembling left hand and slide the ring onto her finger. "So? Whattaya say?"

"Lenny." She said his name like a hallelujah.

That made his heart twinge. She'd never said his name quite like that, not even in the throes of ecstasy. She really loves him, Carmine thought, surprised to find he was grinning. Sure, why not? He couldn't give her love, not the kind she deserved. Why shouldn't Laverne get the goosebumpy kind of happy ending she'd always craved? The girl deserved it, in spades.

Even if it was temporary.

As he thought it, the same realization appeared to hit Laverne. Her broad smile faded and her eyelids flickered. "Len, I mean, this is great and all. But...."

"But what?" he said, brightly. Then, as if suddenly remembering he was living on borrowed time, Lenny lowered his head. Carmine caught an odd expression on his face as Lenny's eyes focused on something off to the right and he bit his lower lip.

Strange, but it didn't look like the same thousand-yard stare Lenny had worn for so long whenever thoughts of his impending mortality seized him. This was different somehow, although Carmine couldn't quite put his finger on how.

"Oh, that," Lenny said. "Um, well, you know, I love you and I want us to be as together as we can for as long as we can. Laverne, with you by my side? I think that maybe I could survive...anything."

Her shoulders hitched with a sob. "Oh, Lenny. I love you, too. I mean, this is kinda soon, but I guess, all things considered?" She caught her breath and straightened her back. "Yeah. If us getting married makes this all better for you, even a little, then yeah. You bet."

"Really?" Lenny's eyes widened and his whole face lit up as she nodded. He lunged for her and nearly knocked her ass over chair onto the floor. "Vernie! Thank you! Oh, man, you just made me the happiest guy in all the world!"

Lenny stood, Laverne wrapped in his arms. He swung her around and whooped, while she laughed and held on for dear life. Mid-spin, she caught sight of him watching and her joyous expression faded. "Carmine?"

Lenny froze. He set her down gently and turned to stare at him as well. "Huh? Oh. Hey, there, Carmine."

Awkward, he thought, but put on his most congratulatory smile and held out his hand. "I was just coming over to...and then I heard. Congratulations, Laverne, Lenny. I wish you all the happiness in the world."

Laverne gave him a grateful smile, her eyes filled with a hundred unspoken emotions. Lenny stared at his hand as though Carmine might punch him with it, then hesitantly reached out and took it. They shook and again, Carmine saw that strange look cross Lenny's face as his eyes darted around, looking everywhere but into his. "Gee, that's real big of you, Carmine. Thanks."

Now why would he say that? It wasn't like Lenny knew the truth about his fling with Laverne.

Or did he?

Carmine tilted his head until he managed to catch Lenny's gaze. Staring hard into his eyes, he said, "Of course. Why wouldn't I be happy for you guys? This is great news."

Lenny just smiled with his lips pressed tightly together and nodded. He ducked his head again, breaking eye contact. That told Carmine all he needed to know.

The Ragusa family was a mishmash of guys on both sides of the law. His Uncle Vito had climbed the police ranks to become one of the first Italian detectives in his precinct and he'd taught his young nephew a few tricks of the trade. One of the most useful turned out to be how to read a guy's facial expressions and body posture, to figure out if he had something to hide.
And Lenny was exhibiting every indicator in the book.

What are you lying about? Carmine wondered, even as he embraced Laverne and then stepped back to make room for other well-wishers to swarm around the happy couple. Certainly it wasn't his feeling for Laverne; Carmine had no doubt they were real. So what else might Lenny have going on?

He had to find out. He owed Laverne that much. If her intended had a secret, then she had a right to know if it might affect her, and he needed to figure it out before he went forward with his plan to change coasts.

Fortunately, Carmine knew exactly who to approach first when it came to finding out anything about Lenny Kosnowski; his other half since high school.

Squiggy.

#
The little guy greeted him with his usual mix of suspicion and false bravado. "If you're here lookin' for your share from that gig I arranged a few weeks ago, I should first explain that when I said 'fifty-fifty split,' what I actually meant was...."

Carmine sighed. "No, Squig. I learned a long time ago to write off most of anything you promise me when it comes to money. I'm here about Lenny."

Squiggy looked relieved. He bowed slightly and waved Carmine into his apartment. "Oh, well then, he's out with Laverne for a change, but you're welcome to come in and twiddle your thumbs."

"Don't mind if I do." Carmine pushed past him and stood in the middle of the guys' living room, in a small clearing amidst a forest of scattered clothes, stacks of discarded pizza boxes and other stuff he didn't want to look at too closely.

Squiggy kicked aside one of the piles in his path and joined him there. "So. What about Len?"

"You heard the news yet? About him and Laverne." Carmine locked his eyes on Squiggy's pinched face.

Squiggy snorted. "That they're all over each other like white on lice? Kinda hard to miss." He cocked his head to one side. "Hey, I thought you and Laverne agreed to let her sow some oats with Len. You ain't here to beat him to an early death, are you?"

"They're engaged."

His bluntness was deliberate. Uncle Vito said that genuine surprise was something very few people could fake. If you caught someone at the moment they were shocked and led them on from there, you could get all sorts of honest info out of them.

Squiggy blinked rapidly and his mouth popped open into an O shape. Carmine nodded, satisfied. "Yep, you heard me right. Lenny proposed, she accepted. Didn't he tell you he was planning on doing it?"

"I...I...I," stammered Squiggy. He swallowed and gave his head a brisk shake. "No. He didn't say nothin' to me. Wow." His eyes clouded and he frowned. "Guess he'd rather spend all his remainin' days on this earth with a skirt, huh?"

Carmine chose his next words carefully. Squiggy was a needy kind of friend, a damaged little boy-man who took everything personally. It was an angle he could play. "Yeah, it surprised me, too. I mean, he's already passed that expiration date the doc gave him, so he knows time's running out. I kind of expected he'd want to spend a lot of time with the guy who's shared his life for so long."

"Ah, geeze, now he's got someone else he'd rather hang out with?" Squiggy threw his hands in the air.

Carmine sighed. "I meant you, Squig."

"Oh. Right."

Keep it simple, Ragusa, he thought. Remember who you're dealing with. "I mean, you've been roommates forever now, and you've stood by him through all of this. Why, without you stepping up and telling Laverne and me about Len's condition, he wouldn't be enjoying all this alone time with her now. He sure as hell wouldn't have a shot at marrying the girl."

"Yeah," said Squiggy, eyes narrowing. "You're speaking a lot of truth there, Carmine."

"Why, I think it's fair to say that Lenny owes you pretty much everything. And yet." He let the thought hang, watching the little guy closely.

"And yet...what?" Squiggy asked.

"Well, it's just that I never see you guys bowling or having beers or doing anything together these days."

"No, you surely don't." Squiggy started to pace, kicking aside clothes and boxes as needed. "You know why? I'll tell you why. 'Cause he's conned Laverne into bein' his one true everything!"

Interesting choice of words. "That's kind of a strange way to put it."

"Huh?"

"You say he conned her. That makes it sound like he's fooled her into a relationship somehow." Carmine found his suspicions, which had been all over the place, condensing into a particular possibility, albeit one so awful, so cruel that he couldn't quite believe it. Not yet.

Squiggy shrugged. "Well, sure, you know. I mean, it ain't like Laverne was longing for him all the time Lenny was crushing on her. She only started seein' him 'cause she thought it was to ease his shuffling off of his mortal foil."

"Yeah, but Lenny's really sick," he probed. "So, it's not like he's lying or anything. Right?"

"Well, no, I guess not. But it's still - whatta you call it - emotional manniplation. Doing all this crazy, expensive, romantic stuff to get her to fall hard and then proposing, of all things, when it's all just gonna end. What's even the point?" Squiggy stopped pacing, as if struck by a similarly dark thought as the one that now filled Carmine's head. His eyes widened. "What is the point, Carmine?"

"I guess he wants to experience marrying the woman he loves before he dies," said Carmine, carefully.

"But, unless they're eloping, he'd have to really rush it. He's, like, weeks past when the doc originally said he'd be really sick, bed-ridden sick, even if he was still breathing."

Carmine nodded. "The doctor said. Did you ever talk to this doctor, Squig? Do you even know who he is?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, no. I mean." He shook his head, seemingly confused by his own words. "I know the doc's name and stuff, but I never talked to him direct or nothing. No reason I would...is there?"

"You tell me."

Squiggy stared and the suspicion was back on his face. It wasn't directed at Carmine this time. "Maybe there is. Last few months, Len's not actin' the same, you know? He was all mopey at first, and then he was kinda resigned. But these days, he's been - I don't know." He rubbed his chin then held up his forefinger as though pointing to a light bulb going off over his head. "Cagey! That's the word. "

"Cagey." Carmine took a deep breath. His stomach muscles clenched and warmth flushed his face. It reminded him of how he felt before a boxing match, back in the day. "You think that maybe Len's not told you everything about his condition, Squig?"

"There's no way Lenny'd propose to Laverne, or no one else, without having a lengthy back-and-forth with me about it first." Squiggy was muttering as if no one else was in the room with him anymore. "Not unless he didn't wan to tell me about it. Like, maybe, he's got his own thing goin' on that he didn't want to involve me in."

"You got that doctor's number handy, Squig?" asked Carmine. His fingers twitched at his sides. If I'm right about this, Lenny's gonna wish he was dying. Hell, I might just make an honest man out of him.

Squiggy stopped mumbling and looked at him, fire in his close-set, dark eyes. "Yeah, I do. It's in his union guide from that tow truck gig he was going for when he got diagnosed. Hang on, I'll dig it out."

He waded his way into the bedroom and returned a few minutes later with a stained booklet in his hand. Flipping through it, he read aloud, "Pyasocki, Quaid - there it is! Quackenbush." He chuckled. "Stupid name."

Carmine followed him into the kitchenette and hovered while Squiggy dug the phone out from beneath a pile of paper plates and used napkins. Squiggy picked up the receiver, but then paused and looked over his shoulder. "Carmine, he wouldn't," he said quietly.

"Then why do we both think he did?" Carmine asked.

Squiggy stared at him for another beat. Then he sighed and started dialing.

--END PART 3-



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