SERIES: When I Come Back
PART: one of two
Author: Missy, Old Time Fan
Email: lasfic@yahoo.com
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING(s): S/C; L/L
DISTRIBUTION: Here so far; any other archives are welcome to ask (Please Email Me), 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!
DISCLAIMER: Laverne and Shirley, of course, not my property and belongs to its creators.
CATEGORY: Romance
CANNON/SPOILERS: Season fiveish.
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Shirley and Carmine take off on an Irish vacation, leaving Laverne and Lenny to hold down the fort at Knapp Street –where some buried truths come to light.

NOTES: For Kath on the occasion of her birthday.

*** 

 

The proper little French restaurant had probably never heard such a hullabaloo before.  “Ireland?  Shirl, we can’t afford Ireland!”  Carmine was shouting, tugging at his tie, which seemed to be choking off his blood supply.

 

Shirley lifted her wine glass.  “I think it’s something we shouldn’t miss.  Grandmother Feeney says it’s beautiful this time of the year in Shannon.”

 

Carmine smirked, watching her tongue lap at the rim of the glass.  “Grandmother Feeney don’t have a water bill like I do.  It’s the middle of winter, Shirl.”

 

“Why not?  I have a feeling Saint Jude’s looking out for us.” 

 

Carmine looked up from his plate of linguine and stared at Shirley in abject surprise.  “Shirl,” he started, “don’t be mad, but you know we can’t afford to go to Ireland…”

 

Shirley dimpled, dropping two envelopes onto the table at Chez Rouge.  “We can when my grandmother offers to fly us in, all expenses paid.”

 

Carmine stared at the tickets and gulped, joy warring with nausea.  “She must really wanna see you…”

 

“She hasn’t since I was a little girl,” Shirley grinned.  “And she definitely wants to meet you!”  Carmine felt himself turn white.  “You’ll come, won’t you?” she asked more tentatively.

 

“Sure!” he squeaked.  “Sure, we’ll go to Ireland…”

 

“Tomorrow!”

 

“TOMMORROW?”

 

“Grandmother Feeney is absentminded,” Shirley explained.  “She thought she sent this to me weeks ago – it was postmarked just last Friday.”

 

“I dunno - this is awful sudden, Sirl…”

 

Her fingers spider-walked up his arm.  “Can’t you put the studio in Max’s care for a week?”

 

“Welll…” he melted under her touch.    “Who’s gonna watch your place?”

 

“Laverne’ll be home – with both bats.”

 

“I think she might need more than that.  There’ve been burglaries up and down Knapp Street all month.  I think she might need more muscle.”

 

Her eyebrow raised.  “Carmine, are you suggesting…”

 

***

 

“NO!”

 

Shirley got down on her knees, throwing her arms around Laverne’s thighs.  “PLEASE LAVERNE!  PLEASE?”

 

Laverne crossed her arms over her chest.  It was midnight, her date had gone badly, and all she wanted to do was go to bed so she could be conscious at Mass the following morning.  “I ain’t gonna spend the whole week alone in this apartment with Lenny and Squiggy!”  she tried to move out of her grasp, but her friend had a tenacious grip.

 

“But it’d only be Lenny!  Squiggy left yesterday to go to a proctologist’s convention with Warren Schlagel!”  Laverne wrinkled her nose and shuddered.   “Come on!  You like Lenny!  You’ve been friends since you were five!”

 

Laverne titled her head.   Shirley’s pleading expression sealed the deal.  “Okay, fine...”

 

Shirley’s bear hug was monstrous.  “Oh, thank you Laverne thank you Laverne!”

 

“But he can’t sleep in your bed, OR use the shower OR the toilet…”  Shirley had tuned Laverne’s insistent requests out, singing “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling” in the purest of joys.

 

 

****

 

“…Now remember, the cold water is on the left, the hot water is on the right.”  Shirley wore a fetching black suit, white travel gloves and a picture hat for her departure from Milwaukee and, to Lenny, seemed the second-prettiest girl in the world.  “Now, Leonard, what’re the rules of the house?”

 

“Don’t use the bathroom, read the mail, look in your underwear drawer, or try to make out with Laverne,” Lenny recited, fidgeting slightly.

 

“Or?” Carmine asked, popping up over his shoulder.

 

Lenny squirmed.  “You’ll knock my block off.”

 

“That’s right!”  Shirley smiled.  “If you’re good, we’ll send you a box of candy.”

 

“Can you send me the kind with whiskey in it?  I could trade it to Squig for the latest Playboy.”

 

Shirley winced.  “It sounds like you’re living in prison!”

 

“Nah!  Squig lets me have conjugational visits whenever I want.  They don’t let you do that in prison!”

 

“That’s so dis-“  They all smiled broadly as Laverne – the prettiest girl in the world - rushed out of the Ladies room, her camera at hand. 

 

“Gimmie a big smile!” she ordered; Carmine and Shirley did, though Lenny wore a pained grimace.   She clicked off half a roll as Lenny watched her heatedly, hoping for a glance down the low-cut green blouse she wore.   A moment later, a voice came over the loudspeaker calling Shirley and Carmine’s boarding number.

 

Shirley and Laverne hugged quickly.  “Have a good time!  Take lots of pictures and don’t forget to write!”

 

“I promise I will!” Shirley squeezed her best friend.  “Have fun with Leonard!”

 

Laverne watched them join the masses boarding the transcontinental flight and felt envy.  Didn’t they look perfect together – a young Liz and Eddie?  Like Eddie and Liz, the two of them were going to jet off to glamour, while Laverne played Debbie Reynolds and babysat the kids at home.

 

Lenny’s big palm slapped down on her shoulder.  “So!” he grinned.  “Whattya wanna do?”

 

She stared at the fingers wrapped tightly across her shoulder.  “Take a long, hot bath.”

 

“Good – I’ll bring my snorkel…”   Laverne grabbed him by the wrist, plowing through the masses, vowing the entire way to the car that Lenny Kowsnowski would never, ever see her in a bathtub.

***

“So, you ready for that bath yet?” Lenny gave her a sly grin and bounced off of her sofa. Laverne’s hand shot out as if it had a mind of its own and caught Lenny in the chest. He flopped back onto the couch with a little, “Oomph!”

“Relax, Len,” she said, “I’ll take my bath on my own when I’m good and ready.” She glared at him and added, “Alone!”

He shrugged and said, “All right, but you’re gonna miss out on my patented back scrub. If Squig were here, he’d tell ya what a pro scrubber I am.”

Laverne opened her mouth, paused to consider his words, then said, “You scrub Squiggy’s back in the tub?”

Lenny’s blue eyes met hers and widened. “Only in a totally manly, macho way,” he assured her. “See, he’s got these little short arms and he can’t reach, so….” Lenny pantomimed trying and failing to reach the middle of his own back.

Just wanting this uncomfortable conversation over, Laverne nodded vigorously. “Yeah, okay, Len. I get it.” She headed for the kitchen to pour some soothing milk and Pepsi.

“Hey, what you makin’ in there?” Lenny called. Could she not get a single moment of peace? A half day of sharing her small apartment with Lenny and she was already about to crawl into the dumbwaiter and escape to the basement. How in the hell was she supposed to deal with him for six more whole days?

“Milk and Pepsi,” she said.

“Make it two, please.”

Laverne started. “Really? You like milk and Pepsi?” It wasn’t the usual reaction she got to her favorite, if unique, drink combo.

“I never tried it,” said Lenny.

She dutifully filled another glass with the concoction and brought it into the living room, all the while sipping her own. “You sure you want to? Shirl always makes gagging sounds whenever she looks at it too close.”

“Aw, how bad can it be?” He took the glass from her and patted the sofa cushion next to him. She ignored him and sat on the arm of the sofa furthest away from him. “I drank something out of my fridge the other night that had moss growing on the top and it turned out pretty good.”

Laverne’s stomach lurched. “Moss?”

“Well, something green.”

She fought to keep her next swallow down, contenting herself with watching Lenny’s expression as he took a swig of milk and Pepsi. It left a thin moustache of brownish-white on his upper lip. He licked at it and looked thoughtful, as if evaluating the vintage of a fancy wine. “Well?”

He smacked his lips and grinned. “Better’n the green stuff!” He took another gulp and settled back on the sofa with a sigh.

For some reason, his enjoyment of her drink pleased Laverne. Maybe because it confirmed that she wasn’t the only one in the world with exotic taste, after all. She slid down onto the sofa cushion and reached for the channel changer. “You want to see what’s on Monster Mania tonight?”

“Do I!” Lenny grinned and bounced in place. “I hope it’s Bride of Bwana Devil.”

“Ah, yeah, that’d be swell,” said Laverne, flipping channels. “I’m a sucker for a good romance.” Alas, they were airing the less-noteworthy Grandson of Bwana Devil. Still, it gave her something to pass the time with Lenny that wasn’t disgusting or irritating.

Once the movie ended, Laverne stood up and yawned. “Well, that was fun, but I think it’s time to hit the ol’ hay. Goodnight.” She turned and headed for the bedroom.

When she got there, she flipped on the light, turned toward her bathroom…and found Lenny was right behind her. “What do you think you’re doing?” she shouted, jumping back from him about three feet.

“What?” His eyes were innocent. “You said it was bedtime.”

“Yeah, but this is my bedroom!” She jabbed her forefinger toward the living room. “That’s yours for the week.”

Lenny looked confused. “But…all the beds are in here.”

“And the sofa’s out there. Enjoy it.”

“Oh.” Lenny looked disappointed. “I just thought…since Shirl’s got a bed and she’s not using it.”

“Lenny.” It was like talking to a child. “What do you think Shirley would do to you if she found out you slept in her bed?” She pointed to her roommate’s perfectly tucked, frilly bed. “Not to mention, it ain’t exactly appropriate for you to sleep in the same room with me.”

“Why not? We used to camp out in your backyard when we was kids.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not in grade school anymore.” She planted her fists on her hips.

“I’ve noticed.” His eyes wandered down her body, then reluctantly returned to her face. “Believe me.”

She fell silent. For just a moment there, he sounded like a regular guy. The bravado, the leering, the high school banter – all gone and just a man, with a man’s interest, stood before her. She stared at him and he gave her a shy grin, and ducked his head.

“You’re right, Laverne. It wouldn’t be cool, you and me in here alone, all night.  I’ll just go wedge myself on the sofa.” He turned to leave.

Laverne picked up an extra pillow from her bed. She held it in front of her chest like a shield, then said, “Len, wait.”

He looked back. “Yeah?”

She tossed the pillow at him. It whacked him in the face and then fell to the floor. “Whoops,” she said, “sorry ‘bout that. That’s for you, for the sofa. Y’know, so your head has somewhere to go?” Why were words so awkward all of a sudden?

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” He picked it up.

“Welcome,” she murmured as he walked out of the bedroom and quietly closed the door between them.

***

Shirley all but skipped out of the cab and into their Knapp Street apartment building. Carmine hefted their luggage and struggled after her. “Could you at least hold the door open?” he called.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she said, flinging the front door open wide again. “I just can’t wait to surprise Laverne.” She held the door and even took a small hatbox from the top of the pile in his arms. Which helped…not much at all, but it was thought that counted.

Carmine hauled everything else up the stairs. “You sure she won’t mind us coming in so late? What if she’s in bed already?”

“Oh, Laverne’s quite the night owl,” Shirley reassured him, flitting ahead. “Besides, when I tell her our good news, she won’t care what time it is.” She paused on the landing and held out her left hand, admiring the small diamond glittering on her ring finger. Despite his pending hernia, Carmine couldn’t help but grin as well.

He’d saved up for nearly a year to buy her that little sparkler. It had taken him even longer to build up the nerve to propose. The impromptu trip to Ireland, coming so soon after he’d finally plunked down the last payment at Klein’s Discount Jewelers for her ring, seemed like too perfect an opportunity to let slip by.

He’d waited until their last night in Shannon. First, he took Grandmother Feeney aside and asked for her blessing. It seemed like the respectful thing to do, and since Shirley’s father was out of the picture, the matriarch of her family would have to serve. Fortunately, the old lady didn’t toss her tea in his face. Rather, she’d cupped his chin in her hands and said, in heavily accented English, “You’re sure you’ve got enough love for me wee Shirley to last a lifetime, boyo?”

“More than I could ever run through in three lifetimes,” he’d assured her.

She stared deeply into her eyes, seeing something finally that made her smile and kiss him on the forehead. “A shame it is, your not being Irish, but what can be done? Go with the good Laird’s grace.”

He’d taken that as approval and thanked the old lady with a kiss on the back of her wrinkled, spotted hand. She patted his head and, more shockingly, swatted him on the behind as he’d stood to walk away. He’d looked back at her over his shoulder in shock. “Grandmother Feeney! Why, I never.” His tone was mock-offended.

“I’m just inspecting the merchandise.” She winked. “You’re prime stock, young Mr. Ragusa.”

He felt heat rush into his face. Grinning sheepishly, he said, “Uh, thanks. I’m going to go find Shirley now.”

As he hurried away, he heard the old lady mutter, “You do that, boyo. Go sire me some sweet great-grandbabies.”

Still shaking his head in bemusement, he’d tracked Shirley down outside the small cottage. She was standing on the hill overlooking the deep green pasture that, by daylight, would be filled with fat, wooly sheep. The moonlight lit her fair skin, giving her a glow that nearly stopped his heart when he looked at her. She pulled her shawl, a gift from Grandmother Feeney, tighter around her shoulders and smiled at him, her short black hair floating around her face in the light, nighttime breeze. She made him think of a fairy, an ethereal being that enticed him, but remained forever out of his reach.

He slowed as he approached her, doubt again troubling his thoughts. His hand closed around the small, velvet box in his pocket, seeking strength from its soft warmth. “Hey, Shirl. I figured I’d find you out here.”

She sighed and nodded at the landscape. “Oh, Carmine, it’s all so beautiful. Just like the stories Daddy used to tell me about the Emerald Isle. I can’t believe we’re here.” Her expression turned sad. “I can’t believe we have to leave tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He stood beside her and inhaled the clean, crisp air. “It’s gonna be hard to go back to regular old Milwaukee after this.” He cleared his throat. “A trip like this, away from the daily grind, it kind of puts things into perspective.”

“Doesn’t it just?” Shirley wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s all so much easier here. Everyone seems so comfortable, so satisfied with their lives.”

Carmine rubbed the little case again. He couldn’t stop second-guessing himself. Not that he doubted for a moment his love for Shirley, or his readiness to commit to her. He’d long since come to terms with the realization that she was the only woman for him and that this was the next, natural step in their long courtship. No, it was his fear that she didn’t feel the same way that gave him pause. After all, he knew he didn’t match her image of the ideal man, not in looks, not in career – not in any way. What if he was still just a placeholder, the boyfriend she turned to when she needed a date for Saturday night, or in between men who were real prospects? Maybe that’s all he’d ever be to her, and, if so, a proposal would send her running into the night, ending any sort of relationship between them forever. Did he really want to risk not having her in his life at all?

“I’d like to come back here someday,” Shirley said, staring out into the night. She slipped her hand into his. “Maybe with my children…and husband.”

He turned his head to face her, but she continued to look out into the darkness. “Carmine, I’ve wasted a lot of time wanting, you know? Just…wanting, and always for something out of my reach. The perfect career, the perfect man, the perfect future. I’ve forgotten how to want what I already have, and appreciate all the blessings I’ve already been given.” Her eyes finally met his and they shimmered in the light from the full moon overhead.

Emboldened, Carmine said, “You’re not alone in that. Everyone always wants what they don’t have. Me, I’m always worried about that next big score, the next move that’ll make me rich.” He chuckled and shook his head. “But what’s the point? I mean, it’d be great to have so much money that I didn’t have to worry about rent or how much anything costs, sure. But so what? I’d be in my mansion with all my stuff and then what? I’d probably just sit around being bored. You know why?”

Her fingers tightened around his hand. “Why, Carmine?”

“Because I’d have no one to share it with.” He thought about that. “Well, I’m sure I could get a few dates if I was a millionaire….”

“But that’s not your point, is it, dear?” Shirley’s eyes narrowed.

He grinned at her. “No, it isn’t.” He took a deep breath. Here goes everything, he thought, and sank to one knee. “Shirl, I can keep on waiting until I’ve got enough money to buy us whatever we want, but the truth is that’s probably never going to happen. And, well, as long as you’re with me, I’ll have everything I’ve ever wanted and it won’t matter what I’ve got in my wallet. I won’t have to buy stuff to fill up my life, because you’ll fill it.” He pulled out the velvet box and Shirley gasped. “So, here’s what I can offer you, Shirl, for what it’s worth. My whole heart and this little symbol of how much I love you.”

She took the box out of his hand with trembling fingers and opened it. She stared at it with eyes as wide as the moon above them. “Carmine,” she breathed, “is this…what I think is?”

“If you think it’s an engagement ring, you’re right,” he said. He swallowed the softball lodged in his throat and said, “Shirley Feeney, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Her scream split the night, setting the horses in her grandmother’s nearby barn to whinnying their displeasure. Wincing, he peered up at her out of one eye. “Is that a yes?”

She flung herself into his arms, knocking him backward and landing on top of him. He rolled them away from their precarious perch at the edge of the high hill as she peppered his face with kisses. “Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” she squealed.

He held her up above him at arm’s length. “Are you sure?” he said, afraid to trust in her thrilled response. “I mean, I’m not becoming a doctor any time soon….”

“I don’t care!” Shirley play-slapped his chest, then hugged him again. “Carmine, in case you haven’t noticed for the past year, I’ve grown up. I’ve been with the man that I want to be with and I don’t want anyone else. Why, if a six-foot tall, blond, god of a surgeon came over here right now and proposed, you know what I’d do?”

“Shove me off this hill and run away with him?” Carmine was only half-joking.

Shirley jabbed him in the ribs with her finger. He tickled her in response. “No, goofball. I love you, Carmine.” She looked down at him with such adoration that it brought tears to his eyes.

“Me, too. I mean, me for you…you know what I mean.”

They’d kissed then, and a whole lot more, right on that hill in the gentle Irish breeze. Although not too much more – Shirley was still waiting for her wedding night for that. Only now he knew that was all right. He’d be a part of that special night, so his cold shower in the wee hours of the following morning bothered him a whole lot less.

They’d caught an earlier flight home, since Shirley was itching to tell Laverne in person about their engagement. As they stood now outside her apartment door, Carmine wondered if Laverne would forgive their midnight intrusion because of the good news, or simply lob a heavy object at them.

Shirley fumbled for her key and let them inside. The apartment was dark and she flipped on the overhead light. “There we go.” She frowned at the sofa. “Hm, I wonder where Lenny is?”

“Maybe Laverne got sick of him and threw him out?”

“Oh, I hope not. I don’t like the idea of her being here all alone, what with the crazies out there who might prey on an innocent young lady left all alone.”

Carmine managed not to snicker too loudly at the idea of Laverne as a hapless maiden at the mercy of neighborhood ruffians. More likely, she’d just knock the block off any masher and go back to swigging her beer. But he appreciated Shirley’s watercolor image of her best friend. “I’ll wait out here so I don’t startle Vernie,” he said, sitting down on the couch.

“Perfect. I’ll be right out.” Shirley gave him a parting peck on the lips and danced off to the bedroom. “La-verne!” he heard her call in a sing-song voice. “Guess what? I’m home and I’ve got the biggest surprise…eeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!”

Shirley’s sudden screech launched Carmine off the sofa and into the bedroom with his fists clenched before he had time to process what he was doing. As he burst through the door, he heard an answering scream, this time from Laverne. And then a third voice, decidedly male, albeit high-pitched, joined the women in shaking the rafters.

Carmine froze, struggling to assess the suddenly chaotic situation. The light on the nightstand between the girls’ beds blazed to life, illuminating the tousled, half-naked figure of Laverne in a flimsy nightie. Carmine averted his eyes guiltily and they fell upon the blanket-wrapped lump crawling around on the floor, trying to escape Shirley. His little Angel Face was whaling on the indistinguishable figure with a pillow, screaming all the while, until she gave up on the pillow causing damage and flung it aside. She fell upon the yowling, blanket-wrapped figure and pounded it with her tiny fists of fury.

“Shirley? What are you doing here? Cut that out!” Laverne grabbed for Shirley’s flailing hands, struggling to rescue the lump now moaning on the floor.

Carmine processed the scene and decided there wasn’t any immediate, physical danger to the girls. Clearly whoever was crawling around on the floor wasn’t much of a threat. Still, it was his duty to step in and get the situation under control. “Laverne, are you okay? Who is that?”

Laverne looked at him with despair. “Carmine, what the hell are you guys doing sneaking in here in the middle of the night? Shirl…I said, leave him alone!” She dragged Shirley, still kicking and swinging, off the blanket-shape and dumped her unceremoniously on the disheveled bed.

Shirley stared up at her wildly. “Did he hurt you, Laverne? Oh, I am so sorry, I should’ve never…” She reached up and grasped Laverne’s shoulders. “Don’t you worry about a thing. Carmine will beat him until his eyes fall out for this!”

I will? Carmine shrugged. Well, if he had to. He reached down and grabbed a double-handful of blanket and yanked it off. “Get up, pal, unless you’re afraid to face me like a man!” He looked at the now-bare man huddled on the floor and gasped, “Lenny?”

Lenny raised his arms defensively. “Puh-please don’t kill me, Carmine,” he pleaded.

Carmine grabbed him by the elbows and hauled Lenny to his feet. His anger surged. “If you touched Laverne…!” he began, balling his right fist while hanging onto Lenny with his left.

Lenny cringed and shrank back. Suddenly, Laverne was between them, shoving Lenny behind her, protectively. “Back off, Carmine!” she snarled. “He didn’t do nothin’ I didn’t want him to do!”

Carmine froze. So did Shirley, still kneeling in the middle of the tell-tale bed. The only sound in the room was Lenny’s little whimpers and Laverne’s enraged panting.

Finally, Shirley said, “You mean you and…Lenny?”

Laverne whirled to face her roommate. “Yeah.”

Carmine let his hands relax and fall to his sides. As far as surprises went, this one dwarfed a little thing like an engagement. He looked at Lenny and said, “Really? You guys,” he waggled his fingers, “you know. On purpose?”

Lenny straightened to his full height, his expression indignant. “Don’t have to sound so shocked, Carmine,” he said.

He immediately shrank back again, as if realizing who he was talking to. But Carmine had no intention of retaliating against the guy for doing something that obviously Laverne had wanted. In fact, he was pretty damned impressed. Inside of a week, Lenny had gone from being an untouchable to being, well, obviously plenty touchable. He grinned at the guy and Lenny gave him a weak smile in response.

Shirley, however, still wasn’t having it. “Laverne, have you gone mad?” She got up off the bed and stood toe-to-toe with her scantily-clad roommate. Picking up the blanket from the floor, she tossed it at Laverne. “At least cover your shame!”

Laverne caught the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Lenny, realizing that a whole lot more of his shame was hanging out, ducked into the bathroom, and came out with a pair of Laverne’s panties on. Backwards.

“You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow, Shirl,” said Laverne, coldly.

“We caught an earlier flight, Laverne.” Shirley’s tone matched her iciness, cube for cube.

Carmine gulped. “Say, Len, what’s say you and I go in the living room for a few minutes and let the ladies chat?”

Lenny shot him a look of pure gratitude. “Oh, God yes,” he said, all but trotting out the door.

Carmine followed him, but hesitated to look back at his fiancée. Fiancee – that word was going to take some getting used to. “Shirley,” he said, a note of caution in his voice, “just remember you’re talking to another grown woman, okay?”

“Thank you, Carmine,” said Laverne. “I appreciate that someone here realizes that.”

“Don’t you worry, darling,” said Shirley, her fists on her hips, eyes locked on Laverne’s. “I know exactly to whom I am speaking.”

With no further purpose to serve, Carmine left the bedroom. He made sure to shut the door behind him.

***

The instant the door shut, Shirley said, “Tell me he got you drunk. Or he drugged you. Or, I don’t know, dressed up like Fabian and tricked you into the sack.”

Laverne blinked at her last suggestion. “How would that even work? Len don’t look nothing like Fabian.”

“That’s not the point!” shrieked Shirley. She wondered if she should slap Laverne back to her senses, but decided against it. Laverne would just pin her down and give her a big old pink belly. So she contented herself with picking up the pillow she’d used to beat Lenny and twisting it in her hands.

Laverne sighed. “Shirl, look, I know this is a shock…”

“A shock? A shock, she says.” Shirley bent the pillow into a pretzel. “No, Laverne, a shock would be that you won the lottery. A shock would be, oh, I don’t know, you joined the cast of Sea Hunt.” She slammed the pillow against the bed. “Finding you rolling in the hay with Leonard Kosnowski? That’s a heart attack and a stroke and a…a….” She couldn’t come up with a comparison dire enough.

Laverne slapped the pillow out of her hands. “Just stop it, Shirl.” Her face flushed bright red and she turned away. “Don’t you think I know how crazy this is?”

Maybe there was hope for her roomie yet. At least she realized the insanity of the situation. Shirley took a deep breath and said, “Okay. All right. I’m going to be calm and mature about this.” She inhaled again and sank down onto Laverne’s bed. Then she thought better of it – my God, what had gone on there? – and hopped over to her pristine bed instead. “Just tell me how this happened.”

Laverne shrugged, still refusing to look at her. “You’ll just call me nuts and yell at me again.”

“No, I won’t. I promise.” She held her pinky out.

Laverne turned her head far enough to see her hand. The rest of her followed suit, slowly. She held out her little finger. “Pinky swear?”

Shirley locked fingers with her, but crossed her toes in her shoes. “Pinky swear.” They shook on it.

“Okay, here goes.” Laverne plunked herself down on her own bed. “At first, it was exactly like what you’d expect. Len was his usual, annoying self. He kept flirting in that disgusting way he does when he’s with Squig.”

“The palm biting thing?” Shirley shuddered at the image.

Laverne nodded. “Exactly. Saying dopey stuff – God, I couldn’t wait for the week to end. But then.” She paused and a dreamy look passed over her face that made Shirley’s blood run cold.

“What? He transformed into Troy Donahue like some sort of werehunk?”

Laverne glared at her. “No.” She plucked at a stray thread on her disheveled comforter. “He just started talking to me. You know, like a person. Like when we were kids and just buddies. He made me feel – I don’t know.”

“Nauseous?”

Laverne stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. “Y’see? I knew you’d just make fun!”

Shirley bit her tongue. Being snarky wasn’t going to help the situation. “I apologize, Laverne. Please, go ahead. Lenny made you feel…?”

Laverne sighed. “Comfortable. Warm. Like I was with someone who understood me, warts and all.”

Of course. Toads know all about warts. Shirley nearly bit through her tongue to keep from saying that out loud.

Taking her silence as encouragement, Laverne continued. “It was weird. During the days, at work, he was regular ol’ Len, all dopey and leering and a real pain. But then, we’d come home, and,” she shook her head, “he was like Heckle and Jekyll.”

Shirley rolled her eyes. “You mean Jekyll and Hyde?”

Laverne snapped her fingers. “Right, those guys.” Shirley shook her head, wearily. “Anyway, I finally sat him down and said, ‘Len, why are you acting like this? You’re so damned irritating all day and so gosh darn sweet when we’re alone.’ And you know what he said to me?”

“What?”

“He said, ‘Cause when I’m alone with you, I don’t feel like I gotta put on a show all the time. You make me feel…’”

“Let me guess,” said Shirley, “comfortable?”

Laverne pressed her lips together in a tight grin and nodded, pointing to the tip of her nose. “Right. Exactly.” She sat down on her bed again, hugged herself, and rocked. “He told me some stuff, then, Shirl. Stuff I really shouldn’t tell you, ‘cause it’s private. But it explained an awful lot.” A faraway look passed over Laverne’s features and Shirley’s stomach clenched. My God, she’s got it bad for him.

“That’s all very lovely, Laverne,” said Shirley. She stood up and paced. “But that doesn’t explain how you went from being friendlier to…really, really friendlier.” She swept her hand over Laverne’s bed.

Laverne shrank further into herself. “Last night was the first time this happened, Shirl. We was sitting on the sofa – Len’s been sleeping there the whole week, I swear – and, well, we had a coupla beers and we talked about our moms. His is basically as dead to him as mine really is, what with having run out on him when he was so little.” She looked up and Shirley saw desperation in her eyes. “He really understands, Shirl. That and other things, he knows me and I know him – more than I ever realized.” She lowered her eyes. “And then we just kind of hugged and he kissed me….”

“Ah, ha!” She knew he must’ve been the instigator.

Laverne shot her a defiant look. “And I kissed him back and we started – you know – and nature just kinda took its course.”

Shirley clenched her eyes shut, straining not to judge, to scold. She finally muttered, “After what happened before – please just tell me you used protection.”

Laverne started to say something indignant, but withered as soon as Shirley opened her eyes and glared at her. There was no arguing that Shirley had good reason to question her on that point, having seen her through what she, thank God mistakenly, thought was her first drunken encounter. “We did.”

Shirley let out her breath in a slow whoosh and stood over Laverne in silence. What could she say? The deed was done. Gone was Laverne’s option to wear white on her wedding day. To give herself exclusively to the one person with whom she would eventually spend the rest of her life. She’d squandered that gift on Lenny. Shirley couldn’t wrap her brain around the waste.

She finally noticed that Laverne was staring at her, mouth open. Shirley followed her gaze and realized Laverne was looking at her left hand, now planted firmly on her hip. “Is that…?” Laverne gulped.

Shirley closed her eyes and sighed. Not exactly the way she’d planned this moment in her head. “It is,” she confirmed, opening her eyes. A wistful smile curled her lips as the ring glinted up at her from her now-extended hand. “Carmine proposed to me last night.”

Laverne continued to stare at the ring for another moment. Then her green eyes filled with tears and her face crumpled. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Not exactly the reaction Shirley had expected. She knelt beside her friend and stroked her hair. “Laverne, sh, don’t cry. This is happy news.” Laverne’s only response was to cry harder. Then Shirley thought, oh, dear, she must’ve just realized what she threw away on Lenny. Here Shirley was, still pure and now properly engaged, on the same night that Laverne had nothing but a one-night stand with Lenny, of all men. Of course the poor girl was devastated.

Shirley slipped her arm around Laverne’s shoulders and held her tightly. “It’s going to be all right, Vernie. You can get past this. You can still find a good man who will love you in spite of, well, your virtue no longer being intact. This indiscretion with Lenny doesn’t have to ruin your prospects. You can have the same happiness someday that I have with Carmine, I promise you.”

Laverne shrugged off her embrace and stood up, tears still streaming down her reddened face. “Shirl, you don’t get it, do you? I ain’t sad about what happened with Lenny. In fact, I couldn’t be more thrilled. He makes me feel happy, and whole, like no one I’ve ever known.”

Shirley blinked up at her in confusion. “But then, why…?”

“Because,” Laverne sniffled, “I just realized, looking at that sparkler on your finger, that it’s what I want with Lenny. The commitment, I mean, not just the jewelry.” A smile broke through her weepiness. “I love him, Shirl. I’m in love with Lenny.”