TITLE:  I Want To Know

UNIVERSE/SERIES: Alternative Season Eight Universe

EPISODE: 1 of ??

RATING: PG (Adult thematic material, especially if you know what I mean by “tie”)

PAIRING(s): L/L; past - S/C; AS/RL; S/W

DISTRIBUTION: To LW, Kai, 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: Romance/Humor

FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!

SETTING IN TIMELINE: Replaced “Monestary Story" and "The Note in continuity -.  in this alt continuity.

SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Laverne goes to confession and then a Monestary to sort out her feelings about Lenny.

NOTES: The first fic in an open universe which seeks to retell the events of season 8 through an L/L spectrum, and also to return Shirley to the canon.

"Bless me, father, for I have sinned...it's been fifteen years since my last confession.”  A slight whine entered the distinctly Brooklyn - hewn voice of the penitent before her father confessor could remark on the length of such an absence.  “I’m so sorry - I got here from Milwaukee four years ago, and couldn’t find a church  - my Pop keeps askin’ me to go to mass at Theresa of the Miracles on Hilside Drive - that’s the one with the big steeple and the -  why’m I tellin’ you this?  You probably know all the churches.  Sorry - the priest there knows my Pop, so I kinda picked you outta the phone book, Father - “

Father Christopher entreated, “All children of God are welcome in my parish.  What are your sins?”

A gulping noise - the scratching noise of a purse rubbing against nylons.  “It started on Friday…”

***

<I>Two Days Earlier:</I>

“Come on, Laverne - let’s dance!”

Laverne looked up from her glass of Pepsi at Lenny’s entreaty.  “No thanks.”

“But I wanna dance!” he whined.

“Why don’t you ask Rhonda?”

Before Lenny could reply the blonde passed their table, clearly otherwise engaged.  “Sorry, Laverne,” Squiggy uttered, his hands closed greedily around the Rhonda’s wrist, “that boat sunk.”

Laverne muffled a smirk against the rim of her glass - Rhonda’s expression showed that she wanted to be anywhere but with Squiggy at the moment.   Well, it would only make the blonde stronger - as Laverne’s aching toes could testify from their bout with Squiggy earlier in the evening.

What a way to spend a Friday night, Laverne mused to herself.   Though it made her feel somewhat socially pathetic, at least she was having fun.  The planning committee of her Pop’s lodge had gone all out on this fundraiser’s theme - Out on the Plains with the Buffalo Society.   The dance floor was filled with sawdust, bales of hay had been brought in from some local farmers, blue and white streamers hung down from the ceiling,  banquet tables were covered with red cloths decorated in a bandana-like pattern and Cowboy Bills had supplied all of the food, dished out buffet style - most of which the boys had consumed.   The attendees - stuffed into Ball Room 12 at the High Rise Hotel of Burbank and mostly the kin of lodge members - had paid two dollars a plate to eat, sit, dance, chat and win door prizes and dance contests.  Thanks to her Pop's ingenuity, the American Heart Association would benefit grandly from tonight’s fare. 

Merriment and charity aside, Laverne still wondered why she had decided against prowling a few local bars for a date.  Casual dating aside, she had no steady boyfriend and no one in her little red book suitable enough to be seen with at the benefit - or, specifically, in front of her Pop.  She grinned into her Pepsi, imagining for a moment her Pop shaking hands with Don, the Hell’s Angel.

Then again, her Pop would probably ask Don out for brunch, so desperate was he to marry off his Muffin, who was rapidly closing in on the magical age of thirty.  Laverne understood herself that that the big three-o was not a good time to suddenly become picky - not that she had ever been choosy about boyfriends.  Then again, Shirley would be thirty in the summer -Shirley, who had been picky her whole life and managed to land just the sort of guy she had always dreamed about marrying. 

That was probably why Laverne felt so strange about coming to the benefit stag - Shirley should have been there.  Instead, her best friend remained at home, green with so-called morning sickness and probably hovering over a sink.

The hall's antiquated loudspeaker rumbled to life.  "Ladies and gentlemen - it's time for the dance contest!"

Lenny tugged hard on her bare arm, nearly giving Laverne an indian burn.  "Please Laverne?  You're the best dancer here!  I know we can win..."

"...first prize is a brand - new crib and layette, compliments of Mommy and Me!"

Laverne's eyes sparkled.  Shirley and Walter couldn't even afford a new sofa until his government stipend kicked through the red tape, and they couldn't even live together until they managed to get housing on-base.  Providing a free crib felt like the very least a best friend could do.

"Len, Shirley really needs that stuff." His face fell.  "Aww, I'll do the next dance with you - but me and Carmine have the best chance to win."

"But Laverne - "

She looked beyond Lenny's pleading form, noticing Carmine hovering over the buffet table, chatting with a curvaceous redhead.  Gently, she pushed Lenny back into his chair, then stood and walked toward Carmine. 

"...So I'm auditioning for the new Walter Matheau picture and..." Laverne tapped him on the shoulder, but Carmine continued to lie to the young redhead, "...he said 'son, you're headed for big things'!"

"Walter Mathieu!  Walter Math-oo?" the redhead's lips formed a pucker as she searched her memory.  "Who's he?"

Laverne coughed - the annoyance in Carmine's expression changed to weary recognition when he turned around.  "'Scuse me, Annette.  Laverne, you want me to punch Squiggy for you?"

"No - you know how to jitterbug?"

"Yeah, but -"

She yanked him onto the dance floor as a small brass band struck up a Dixieland beat.

In minutes she and Carmine lost themselves in the routine her mother had taught them when they were four.  They had always danced together with fluidity, managing to make what felt incredibly difficult look very easy. 

Whirling, she caught sight of Squiggy, Rhonda, Frank and Edna.  Of the two couples, Rhonda and Squiggy faired the worst - every step seemed to result in Rhonda banging into Squiggy or Squiggy trying to steal a kiss from Rhonda.  Frank and Edna, meanwhile, had long ago given up trying to keep up with Laverne and Carmine and were watching from the sidelines, clapping in time with the drummer.

Laverne never realized that most of their competition was gone.  When she hit the floor in a flourish to match the band’s final quarter note, she realized that the floor was empty and the MC was making his way toward them.

"I believe we have our winners!  And what a fine young couple!"

"Oh, we're not a -" Laverne protested, gasping for air.

"I should warn you, a woman in your condition shouldn't dance so vigorously until after you're in your third trimester.  I should know - I'm an obstetrician.  Here's my card!" He held up Carmine's left arm and Laverne's right, then pressed his business card into Laverne's palm.  "Your winners!"

Applause filled the air, and Laverne gave the audience a little bow to show her appreciation, forcing Carmine down with her.  Annette took Carmine’s bent head as a target and promptly dumped her punch over it, adding with dramatic finality, "You jerk!"

Laverne masked her amusement.  "I'm sorry, Carmine."

"It’s okay, Laverne." Something passed over his expression - a confusing sadness - then, like a curtain blowing in the wind, his face fell into its usual expression.  He straightened his shoulders, announced "I gotta go wipe up," and roguishly he made his way to the men's room, whistling 'Rags to Riches'.

A prickle of guilt worried Laverne's mind.  Since Shirley's wedding her ex-boyfriend had expressed more than the usual number of emotional ups and downs.  Laverne could understand why - their break-up had been so sudden that Walter barely registered in her mind, three months after the wedding.  She had never imagined Shirley would be the one to leave Carmine after fifteen-plus years of waiting for a ring.  The way it happened had been somewhat insensitive of Shirley, but completely understandable - and in a way, Carmine’s fault.

Lenny greeted her with a hug when she returned to the table.  "You did real good, Vernie," she couldn't ignore the tone of worship in his voice.  <I>Here we go again...</i>

"Thanks, Len."  The band segued into a ballad, and Laverne weighed her options - slow dancing with Lenny would probably result in fewer crushed toes than a fast song.  "Wanna dance?"

"Yeah!"  He leapt up from his seat and pulled her onto the floor.

Laverne winced - there was one of Lenny's biggest flaws, his tendency to grab and yank.  Why couldn't he just ask her to move?  She pulled away from his grip and straightened her shoulders - Lenny responded by sliding his arms around her waist, hands meeting at the small of her back.  Laverne looped her arms around his neck, planted her cheek against his shoulder, and began to move with him.

To her surprise, their bodies moved in concert - naturally, and with ease.  Laverne had forgotten how nice it was to dance with Lenny - how well their heights matched.  Before she could marvel at her thoughts,  he spoke up.

"You look real pretty tonight."

"Thanks."

"That a new dress?"

"Uh huh."

"I like you in blue."

"Thanks."  It was common knowledge that Lenny liked her at all times, no matter her costume.  In the hope of returning his compliment, she looked between them and noticed his khakis, brown jacket, and yellow shirt.  In his best clothing, Lenny almost looked classy - if one ignored the baby blue tie slung around his neck with a lounging girl stitched square in the middle, naked as a jaybird.  She remembered it - the one he had worn the first time he had proposed marriage.  "I don't believe you still wear that."

"Yep!  I don't throw nothin' out - 'sides, it cost me six dollars."

She pressed her face against his stubble-coated neck as she tried to get a better grip on his back.  He tensed, trying to keep away from her mouth, and Laverne couldn't believe that he was still trying to act like a gentleman.   She was reminded that Lenny could be a nice guy when he wanted to.

His hands abruptly cupped her bottom.

...then there were those other times.  "Len!" she menaced.

"Sorry." He let go, returning both hands to her waist.  "You feel too nice," he mumbled, probably hoping she wouldn't hear.

Laverne suddenly felt guilty - maybe they were dancing too closely together, maybe she was leading him on again...  "Do we gotta have another talk?"

"Uh Uh." A small, somewhat bitter smile twisted his plump lips.  "We're friends.  Friends are forever."

She ignored the mocking tone of his recitation.  "That's right."  Her voice contained a warble of emotion that belied those words.

The song came to a gentle stop - couples separated and a light din filled the room.  Obliviously, Lenny and Laverne danced on, locked in their individual thoughts.  Lenny, for once, came to his senses first.

"There ain't no music, Vernie," he said gently. 

"Oh," Laverne felt heat creep up her neck while pulling out of his embrace.  The foggy daze of her thoughts cleared; to stop more from cropping up she said, "I gotta get home 'cause  Shirl said she'd wait up for me, and that ain't good for the baby..."

She had turned back to their table and was picking up her purse when she felt a tapping at her shoulder.  "Uh..." Lenny stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels before continuing to speak.  "You're gonna need some help getting the crib home - me and Squig took the truck, so..."

"Aww, that's real sweet of you to offer, Len, but Pop..."

"Pop what?" Frank interrupted, startling them.  And no wonder - the headdress of his lodge was imposing, a big foam buffalo head perched on a red fez.  It made Frank look rather feral. 

"Well, I came with you two and someone's gotta do the driving."

Edna appeared over Frank's shoulder.  "Here's your coat, honey - the car's warmed up."

"Hold on, I'm comin'." Laverne returned her attention to her purse.

"Oh!  Laverne!!  Frank, we forgot about Laverne!"

Frank eyed his wife.  "You ain't very good at this sneaky stuff."

Confusion reigned in Laverne's expression.  "What's goin' on?"

"Umm...I have a soufflé waiting at home!"

"Yeah, a soufflé..."

"And I can't leave it out, or it'll fall right over."

"What she says."

"Ooh, can I have some?" Lenny licked his lips.

"No, Lenny - this is a special soufflé that only married people can have..."

Edna poked Frank.  "Now who's bad at the sneaky stuff?"

"Meet me in the car, ey?"

"See you there, honey." Edna gave Frank a nudge before exiting out a side door, merrily swinging her purse.

Frank grinned, his eyes somewhat dazed.  "It's the hat.  She can't resist the hat." He followed his wife like a magnet.

"Bye Pop...aww geez, I'm so embarrassed..." Laverne distracted herself by searching for her jacket. 

"I guess that means you're commin' home with us," Lenny suggested.

She surfaced with the coat in hand.  Quickly, she weighted her options - Carmine had engaged himself with a brunette, and this one didn't seem ready to assault him with punch.  She knew no one else at the dance, and with the crib to transport she wasn't in a position to be adventurous. 

"Guess you're my ride."

***

"Oww!"

"Watch where you're puttin' that thing!"

"Why does a little baby need a big bed?"

Fifteen minutes later Laverne, Squiggy and Lenny were struggling to get the thick-barred crib through her front door.  Whining and complaining they had staggered with it up two flights of stairs, managing to bang into walls, disturb the other tenants, knock a banister off of its mooring and squash Lenny's thumb.  At last they pushed the crib over her threshold and down to the landing.

"Can someone get the lights?" Laverne wondered.

Squiggy was nearest to them; after another crash, the room was illuminated.  But what greeted Laverne and what she remembered proved disparate. 

All of Shirley's things were gone - the record player she had won in the sixth grade for selling the most candy bars, her plants, Dwayne, even her good coffee cup.

"Well, Laverne, now that me and Len've done our manly duty, it's time for a reward," Squiggy rubbed his hands together, smiling rapaciously.

She pushed him away with a palm to the face and blankly walked around the apartment, seemingly without destination. 

"Geez!  Who got into her?" Squiggy wondered to Lenny.

"I lost count after high school..." Laverne stared ahead, Lenny's words bouncing off of her.  Just to get her out of this strange new mood, he loudly added, "hey, Laverne, you wanna lend me some fingers?"  Squiggy hooted, but Laverne didn't react to him - then suddenly she raced over to the shelves, falling to her knees and pulling out the record albums stacked there.  When she turned around, her face was ashen. 

"Shirl.  Someone took Shirl."

"Whattya mean, took?" Lenny worried. 

Squiggy clutched Lenny's right arm.  "Don't ask dumb questions, Lenny!  We got ourselves a Shirly napper!"

"What'll we do?" Lenny cried.

"You stay here - I'll go get our detectin' stuff!"

"No one's goin' anywhere!" Laverne uttered.  The boys paused - her tone was guttural, wounded.  "You stay down here - I'm goin' upstairs."

"Stay here?" Laverne ignored Squiggy's desperate plea, breezing past the boys and rushing up the landing and stairs rapidly.  "She left us to the sheep, Len."

Lenny sobbed.  "I'm too young to die, Squig!  I ain't even seen the garbage dumps of the Bahamas!"

Squiggy shook his friend lightly.  "Come on, come on, shut up!  There ain't nothin' that'll happen to us, Len - Shirley was a little, weak, defenseless girl.  And whatt're we?"

"Men..."

"I can't hear you!"

"MEN!"

"That's right - we're strong, muscle-bound men!"  Squiggy broke into an agitated stride, looking behind chairs and shouting,  "come on, Shirleynapper!  Come out an' face me - man to man!"

"Call off the search, boys."

Squiggy jumped, plastering himself against the wall and shouting, "take Lenny!  He’s meatier!"

Lenny cowered against the sofa, blubbering "Idon'twanttodieIdon'twantotdieIdon'twanttodie."

Laverne chortled.  "Fellas, it's me!"

Lenny glared up to her between shaking fingers.  "Whatt'd you do with Shirley?"

She waved a bundle of paper at him from the middle step.  "Nothing.  This is from Shirl," she explained.

"Oh, did she go out for milk or somethin'?" Lenny asked, righting himself, then going over to help Squiggy, who was in a fight for his life with the drapes.

"Nope," Laverne said.

"Where is she?"

Laverne shrugged. “Germany."

Lenny turned to Squiggy.  "That's a long way for milk."

"She didn't go out for milk, Len," Laverne sat down on the final step, staring at the letter.  "Walter got shipped out on an emergency troop deportment.  He's going to be stationed in Germany for the next six months, then Shirl says he may end up in Vietnam," she held onto her knees and sighed.  "My best friend's on a plane to Berlin."

Lenny and Squiggy shared a look that was surprisingly intelligent.  While Lenny seemed to take the news well, Squiggy was angry.  "That's it?  We known her for all these years and all she leaves is some paper?"

"She must've been in a hurry."

"Hurry?  She took everythin' with her!" Squiggy flapped his arms, gesturing blindly at the naked apartment.

"They had to leave right away- she couldn't help it..."

"Laverne, my friend, you are completely denuded."

Lenny finished unknotting his friend from the curtains.  "Squig, could ya go ahead to our place?  Alone?"

"Why?"

"'Cause maybe the Shirleynapper is waitin' there for us!  We wanna be ready for him, right?"

Squiggy's dark eyes sharpened.  "I'll soften him up for ya, Len - then you get to hold him down while I call the cops!"

He rushed out of the apartment with purpose, leaving Lenny behind.  When he knew they were alone, Lenny turned to Laverne and said kindly, "you need someone to talk to, Vernie?"

"Huh?" She had resumed reading the letter.   "Oh, I'm fine, Len."

"I dunno how you can be fine," Lenny worried.  "You and Shirl've been friends as long as me and Squig - I dunno what I'd do if he left me alone - "

"I'm really fine, Len," Laverne stood and began to climb the stairs.  She turned around and smiled shakily.  "Shirl gave me her military P.O. Box and everything.  It'll be just like we're in the same room."

"Are you really sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." He turned to leave.  "Len?"

"Huh?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Bein' there," she smiled, disappearing into her bedroom.  "Always."

Lenny smiled at her glowing words until their meaning sunk in.  "Yeah, always," he said glumly. 

Laverne entered the bedroom she had shared with Shirley without knowing exactly what she would find.  Expectantly, her side of the closet was empty - and Shirley had even taken the shampoo.  But it was her twin bed - made neatly, with Boo Boo Kitty settled primly in the middle of the sheets - that finally broke Laverne down.  She picked up and crushed the stuffed cat to her chest, breaking into moaning sobs against its pink satine ears as she sat upon Shirley's bed. 

He followed the noise upstairs and to Laverne and Shirl- Laverne's - room. 

A gentle touch did little to break her reverie.  Then two strong arms embraced her, and she threw her arms around the waist of Lenny Kosnowski, weeping against his leg.

The position was awkward and highly suggestive, but Laverne didn't want to break the contact between them - it felt too comforting to be dismissed.  After a long moment she released him, blotting her eyes against the stuffed animal's head.

“I thought you wasn’t sad,” Lenny worried.

“I wasn’t, 'til I saw she left Boo Boo Kitty.” Laverne patted the space beside her and he reluctantly sat down, nearly bobbing her off of the mattress while trying to seem blasé to the situation.

“Are you gonna keep him?"

"I dunno," she sniffled.

"I guess you got a new pincushion,”  Lenny grinned, and she managed a feeble laugh.

“You know I can’t do that to Shirl,” she looked into the flat, green cotton eyes of the cloth cat.  “This is big, Len.  No way the Shirley Feeney I lived with for ten years would leave her kitty behind.”

“I guess she was too busy writin’ you that note.”

Laverne laughed bitterly.  “We’ve known each other since we were six and she can’t say goodbye to my face.”

“Maybe she didn’t want you to see you cry.”

Laverne sniffled.  “That ain’t even the worst part, Len.  Now that Shirl’s gone, I’m all alone.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder - when she didn’t react negatively, he took her right, the one holding Boo Boo Kitty.  “Aww, you ain’t alone!  You got your Pop, and Edna, and Squiggy.  And you know you got me.”

“I love you guys, but the way I am with you guys ain’t like it was with me and Shirl.  I don’t got anyone else that close to me - no girlfriends, anyway.  Me and Rhonda ain't that close, and all the Debs still live in Milwaukee."

"But I bet you got lots of friends!"

"Len, I don’t even got a boyfriend - and no dates, either.”

“I thought you were seein’ Jeff.”

Laverne blushed.  “He’s married.”

“But there’re plenty more fish where he came from!”

She rested her head against Boo Boo Kitty’s.  “Maybe what you said last month was true - maybe I’m gonna be an old maid.”

“Aww, I didn’t mean that.  And I don’t got a right to talk, 'cause I still got my…” He clamped a hand over his own mouth, eyes wide.

“Got your what?"

“Uh, tie!  I still got my tie!” He tugged it desperately, eyes darting from her gaze, and she understood what he wanted to tell.

“You mean you ain’t…”

He leapt into the conversation. “You promise you won’t tell?  Squig don’t even know…”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Lenny nibbled his lower lip before adding.  “You know, you and Shirl are gonna be friends forever - no matter how much she changes, or where she goes.”

“I don’t know.  I used to think we would, but now...”

“Sure!” Lenny scoffed.  “Folks like you and Shirl'll always stick together. Like me and Squig.” She looked into his eyes when he added in a softer tone, “like you and me.”

Whenever he looked at her that way, she knew it meant trouble. But this time Laverne didn’t pull away.  “That's real sweet, Len.”

“I just want you to know I’m your friend, Vernie,” his head began to dip toward her mouth.

“Lenny...” Laverne tilted her chin toward him. 

“Your real good friend,” his lips descended.

“Len-” 

Their lips collided. 

Laverne expected to feel nothing - wanted to feel nothing - but the kiss heated her blood.   Her hands flexed against his touch - abruptly, she slipped them over her own lap and up, around his neck.  Her own passion was inexplicable but she was unable to ignore it.  Right now, she didn’t want to think.

They parted momentarily - panting and utterly confused.  Laverne paused for a moment, watching Lenny's animated expression go from confusion to hopeful.  With one gesture, she made her choice - picked Boo-Boo Kitty up by the neck and plopped him on the floor.

“Whatt’re you doin’?” Lenny wondered.

“I don’t want him to see this,” Laverne responded - grabbing Lenny by the lapels and pulling him down over her body…

***

“…and then he…”

“I think I have a clear enough picture.”

Laverne plucked at her peter pan collar.  “What should I do, Father?  Lenny’s always been my best guy friend but we can’t be just friends any more - and I don’t know if I can date him.”

“Well, this Lenny sounds like a fairly nice boy…”

“Sometimes he is, but sometimes he goes through my underwear draw and wears my bra on his head.”

“I don’t think I’m qualified to help you with this sort of problem.  Perhaps a psychiatrist…”

“But Lenny’s not my only problem - remember what I told you about Shirl?  I dunno if I can live by myself - I haven’t ever done that before.  Shirley used to help me all the time -  I just miss her so much.  If she were here, I wouldn’t be scared…My whole life’s a mess!” She whined, tears welling in her eyes.

“Oh, dear - don’t cry!  We can’t pass Kleenex through the screens.  Believe me, I’ve tried.” She heard the beads of his rosary rattle.  “I’m afraid the most I can give you would be two full rosaries and an Act of Contrition…” Laverne ducked down as a piece of paper nearly poked her in the eye.   “And this flier for our women’s retreat.  It takes place from Saturday morning to Sunday evening at a convent in La Jolla- and in this day and age, we receive many penitents, even ones that aren’t part of our church.  There happens to be a seat left on the bus, which is leaving at noon.”

Laverne eyed the flyer suspiciously.  "A nunnery?"

“Yes, it is a cloister.  Don't worry - you won’t be required to take vows.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.  “Thanks, father.  It sounds just like the break I need.”

“Anything for a lost sheep, my child.”

***

<I>Four Hours Later</I>

Carmine smiled into the sunlight pouring through his one-room apartment.  He had plenty of reasons for being so overjoyed; after a great evening, what's-her-name was on a cab bound for her apartment, breakfast was on the table, his workout had been exceptionally easy to suffer through and he had an audition at Paramount at eight.   A weekend audition was reason enough to be overjoyed - in Hollywood it was unheard of, and the director had specifically requested such a meeting. 

He couldn't stop himself from feeling proud.  Life was finally perfect.

"Hello!"

Squiggy's voice cut through Carmine's sense of serenity like a hot knife going through brown sugar.  It took him a minute to realize that Andrew still wore what he had donned the night before - only his tie was askew, the hair worm completely out of place.  A wave of nausea swept over Carmine - Squiggy was coming to brag about some conquest, and that mental image was the last thing he wanted on a full stomach.  "Whattya need?  Sink backed up again?"

Squiggy watched something grind its way down the garbage disposal.  "That bacon?"

"Yeah - I burned it.  Want some?"

Carmine's sarcasm was lost on Squiggy.  Andrew raked a hand through his hair, eyes missing their usual sense of self-confidence.  "Hey, Carmine - drinkin' a whole bottle of wine by yourself won't kill you or nothin' right?"

Carmine had him in a bear hug instantaneously.  "Get it up, Squig!"

Squiggy violently struggled his way out of Camrine's arms until he fell, sprawling across the floor.  Upon righting himself, he bellowed, "not me, ya pea brain!  Lenny!"

"You moron!  How could you let him drink that much?"

"I wouldn't have, Mr. So-and-so!  When I woke up this morning, I was gonna make me and Len a big snout - and - kraut omlette, to celebrate my first date with Miss Rhonda Lee."

Carmine couldn't stop himself from snickering.  "What happened last night wasn't a date."

"Tell it to my lips, pal," Squiggy grinned, then suddenly became more serious.  "I went lookin' for my good bottle of baptismal wine - the one my dad saved for me from World War II..."

"The one you put on the shelf to prop up your girlie magazines?"

"The very one, 'cause Rhonda didn't believe I had it.  Then I realize Lenny's gone.  First I though the Shirleynapper got 'im, but Jeffery and his guitar were on the floor, where he left 'em, and Lenny won't go no where for a long time without Jeffery.  So I checked the gutters, I checked the bathroom - no Lenny!  In perspiration, I go to Laverne and Shirley's place, and there's Lenny - in a crib, snorin', with my bottle of wine!"

Carmine grabbed Squiggy by the shoulders.  "This ain't one of your pranks?"

"I swear to Bob!"

Carmine climbed over Squiggy and scurried to the door, not even bothering to dress up - Laverne was probably out like a light after spending all that time at her Pop and Edna's place.  He'd heard her keys in the lock sometime around six in the morning, and it had amused Carmine.  Laverne was getting old on him. 

To Carmine's surprise, the front door wasn't locked, so he tried to be as quiet as could be while entering the living room.  Directly in front of the door was the crib - and Lenny, whose head bobbed over the headboard with every snore.  Just as Squiggy had said, Lenny held an empty bottle of wine in his left hand and wore only his red-striped boxer shorts. 

"Come on, Len - time to get up.  You want Laverne and Shirley to see you like this?"  When he got no response from the slumbering blond, Carmine took action.  First he tried to lift Lenny up, a hand beneath each armpit in an attempt to push him into a sitting position.  Lenny was dead weight, however - limbs loosened by sleep, he flopped limply forward. 

"Lenny, stay still!" Carmine ordered.  The words had some effect on his unconscious mind, as Lenny made a bestial, incoherent sound of recognition.  Carmine tamed his burgeoning disgust, letting go of Lenny and smacking his face.  Suddenly, his arms flailed defensively, forcing Carmine to protect himself and try to block Lenny's clenched fists.  A stray blow hit the Big Ragoo's cheek - he cursed, knowing from the quality of pain he would soon be sporting a bruise.

While Carmine held his cheek and glared down at Lenny, Kosnowski decided to open his eyes.  And when that happened, Carmine began to worry, for the blonde’s hazy smile and unfocused gaze were good indicators that he was still intoxicated.

"'Ey, Carmine...d'you meet Harvey yet?"

"Who's Harvey?" Carmine mentally readied himself for the sight of something dead and slimy. 

"He's nice - he brought me this grape stuff here." Lenny lurched upward, hefting his minimal weight against Carmine's shoulder, then yelled, “Don’t make fun of his pink trunk!  He's don't like that!"

Only Lenny Kosnowski would conjure up a pink elephant and make it his drinking buddy.  "I don't see anything.  Hey, you want some coffee?"

Lenny swung his head dramatically to the side, following the flight of some invisible object, then waved at its departure.  "Bye, Harvey.  He's shy around new people."  Lenny then tried to follow Carmine's progress across the room, but he moved a little too quickly.  "Oooh, my head..."

"Forget the coffee - I'll get you water..." Carmine stumbled through the ransacked cupboard, wondering how it had gotten so messy, then rationalized that Shirley's morning sickness must be getting in the way of her usual duties.  While he ran the tap, Squiggy stomped through the door.

"Carmine, d'you let Godzilla in?" Lenny groaned.

"Where?" Squiggy's childish excitement.  "I wanna get his footprint."

"Squig, there you are.  This is Harvey - Harvey, Squig, Squig Harvey Squig."

Andrew Squiggman took one long look at the empty air his best friend was pointing to and decided that Lenny needed to be snapped back to reality.  As Carmine entered the living room with his water, Squiggy took possession of the cup and poured it over Lenny's head.

Lenny blinked through the stream of liquid trickling down his forehead.  He said to Squiggy, "you got Harvey all wet!"

"Lenny, you dope, there ain't no rabbit here!"

"It's an elephant, not a rabbit, dummy!"

"Who you callin' dummy?"

"You, dummy!"

Carmine stepped between an advancing Squiggy and the prone Lenny, waving a palm in front of Lenny's eyes.  "Do you still see an elephant?"

Lenny closed and opened his eyes rapidly.  "No.  Squiggy scared him away."

Squiggy pouted, plopping down onto the front steps.  Carmine gingerly sat beside him, blotting his bruised eye with a wet paper towel, then wondered, “what are you doing drinking yourself to death?  If Squiggy hadn't figured out you were gone, you woulda given Laverne and Shirley a helluva scare."

Lenny's eyes began to well.  "Laverne!  The song of my liver!" He slapped his palm upon his chest and moaned. 

"Song of your liver?  You told me you was over her," Squiggy complained.

"Over her, under her - it don't matter!  She's gone!"

"No!  Did the Shirleynapper get her, too?"

"What?" Carmine's skin turned white, though neither of the boys noticed it.

"Eh, Walter and Shirley went to Germany.  Somethin' about a troop..." Lenny snapped his fingers, trying to fill in the blank.

"Deplummint."  Squiggy threw in.

"Yeah, plums and mints."

"Shirley's in Germany?" Carmine's expression turned empty.

"Mmm, mints," Lenny smacked his lips together.

"Wouldya forget the mints?  Nothin' you're sayin' makes any sense!" Carmine groused.

Lenny shoved a damp, ragged slip of paper into Squiggy's hand.  "I don't know how she could do it to me - she left a note, just like Shirl!"

Squiggy unfolded the paper and, as he read, his forehead furrowed. 

"What's it say?" Carmine wondered.

"I dunno...I think it's in martian."

Carmine yanked the paper out of Squiggy's hands.  He took a look at the page, then gave Squiggy a superior look before saying, "Cursive handwriting."  Carmine then began to read it out loud:

"<I>Lenny,

I'm going away for the weekend - I've got a lot of thinking to do.  Last night was terrific...</I>"

"Last night?" Squiggy broke in, grinning.  "You San Juan!"

"<I>But with all this new stuff going on, between you and Shirl leaving I gotta take a break and get some rest.  I left a note with my Pop and Edna that explains where I'm gonna be.  Tell Carmine I'll be home by Sunday night, and that he needs to watch the place</i> - thanks a lot, Laverne," Carmine retorted. "<I>Try not to worry.   Love, Laverne.</I>"

Squiggy grinned, poking Lenny.  "How was she?"

Lenny frowned.  "You're askin' me how she was?  She ran away to live with nuns!"

"Oh yeah - I guess the question is 'How was you'?"

Carmine and Squiggy shared a laugh - and when Carmine realized what he was doing, he stopped.

"This is serious!" Lenny protested.  "Cupid shoots me all over again and then Laverne leaves!  I shoulda known she wouldn't want a loser like me for a boyfriend!" He tried to hide beneath the crib's layette, which barely covered his face.

"Lenny!  Come out from under there - you're gonna get your good hair tonic all over Shirley's blanket!" Squiggy cried.

"She'll get new blankets!  I'll never get a new heart!"

"I'll give ya mine!"

"What'm I gonna do with your heart?  I want Laverne's!"

"So go to the nun's house and rip it outta her chest!"

Their conversation was interrupted by a piercing whistle from Carmine. 

"Your elephant's got a plugged nose," Squiggy noted to Lenny.

Lenny's reply was silenced as Carmine hung his head over the edge of the crib.  "You love her?"

"I gave her my tie."

Carmine turned to Squiggy.  "Is that a good thing?"

"This IS serious - she took his good tie!  He paid six dollars for it at the Bijou Peepshow..."

"Not that tie...never mind.  I always loved her, Carmine." Lenny admitted.

"Then why're you sittin' here?"

"She left me.  It's like what happened with my mom - if she wanted to be with me, she wouldn'ta left."

"Don't compare your mom to Laverne - it ain't fair to Laverne."

"It ain't fair to monkeys," Squiggy retorted.

"Squiggy, shut up.  Lenny, Laverne's going through a lot of changes right now.  You've gotta be a man and stand up for her, cause she's gonna need someone now that Shirl's gone."

"Really?"

"Really."

Lenny stood in the crib, suddenly mighty.  "Go put some gass in the truck, Squig - Carmine and you and me are goin' to bust Laverne outta the convent!"

"Hold it, hold it!  I got an interview at nine," Carmine protested.

"With that black eye?"

"Yes with that - it's black all ready?"  He touched the bruise and winced.

"I wouldn't look in the mirror Carmine - you're kinda uggo this morning."  Squiggy jumped up and rushed out the door.  "I'll bringin' the black sheets, Len!"

Carmine watched him go.  "Black sheets?"

"Yep!" Lenny hopped out of the crib.  "How else're we gonna dress up like nuns?"

"You know how to sew?"

"Since I was eight.  Who'da think makes all those costumes me and Squig use?"

"I didn't want to know," Carmine admitted ruefully.  "You got a plan?"

"Sure I got a plan."

"What is it?"

"We dress up like nuns and sneak into the convent, then grab Laverne and sit on her til' she says she'll go home with us."

"That ain't a plan - that's assault." 

Lenny pouted. 

"All right.  How does this sound?" Carmine cupped his hands around Lenny's ear and began to whisper...

***

<I>Four Hours After That</I>

"You and I travel to the beat of a different drum!"

Sister Conceptia stared over the simple fair spread across the dining table at The Abbey of St. Joan’s lunchtime prayer meeting.  Heat creeping up Laverne's neck at the Mother Superior's sharp stare - every eye in the room watched her.  Shrugging and pasting a smile on her lips, Laverne mouthed 'sorry' and began humming the tune and buttering her bread.

It was a bad way to begin her first day with the Sisters of St. Joan - two minutes after arriving and she was already causing trouble.  Were Laverne a less Christian woman, she would have blamed Father Christopher for not explaining that the sisters who maintained the abbey had taken a vow of silence.  Barring times of prayer and song, they were not to use their voices for idle talk, and all guests were expected to observe the same vows. 

Not talking was harder than Laverne had anticipated.  She knew enough about herself to understand that such glibness was strength - Shirley had been the silent one, the polemic one.  It had been easy to keep quiet during the prayer service that greeted her when she climbed off the bus, but over lunch - a festive time in her lifetime experience - the tomblike silence rankled. 

It stank.  The vow of silence had even been observed on the bus, so she hadn't gotten to talk to any of her fellow penitents.  Thus, the two-hour ride to the convent had been spent making up stories in her head about the other female attendants.  A pregnant woman became the victim of a dope-fiend boyfriend.  An older woman was a gigolette who made her living off of seducing innocent college students and was just now discovering the error of her ways.  It was like reading a copy of "True Confessions" in her head. 

At least she had something to ask God forgiveness for during services.  Laverne's satisfied smile was erased when she leaned over the table for a roll - dipping the front of her shirt directly into her bowl of tomato soup.  Then she had another sin to confess as she cursed aloud.

A firm hand took her by the arm, and then jerked it.  Annoyed and humiliated, she glared at the owner of the hand - a novice nun who shared her seat.  Embarrassed, she realized that the nun was trying to pass along a note - as a main form of communication, each sister carried a little notepad with her to scribble out messages to one another and those outside the order.  She handed Laverne the scrap of paper, which held a script so fine that Laverne could barely read in the faint candlelight: <I>Let me help you clean up.</I>

Laverne nodded her head.  "Okay.  Excuse us, sisters." 

She had spoken again.  The young nun stood, curtsied, and pulled Laverne to her feet before the Mother Superior could reprimand them.

Laverne allowed herself to be lead out of the dining area and two rooms down a hallway to the scullery.  The young nun gestured that she should sit by a large steel sink, and so Laverne settled down on an old, stained wooden stool.  The younger woman picked up a plain clay cruet, pulled out its cork stopper, and dabbled a little bit of whatever was inside on a clean dishtowel.  When she came nearer to Laverne, she wrinkled her nose in recognition at the scent - vinegar.

The little nun - for she was little, shorter than Laverne - began to dab away at the stain with her cloth.  Her expression was nude of anything but peace, though Laverne could see her fatigue.

Sister Jane - Laverne remembered her now from orientation - was a redhead with deep green eyes, and of the most cow like, placid features Laverne had ever seen.  She wanted that peace as her own, needed to have it - and despite herself, Laverne began to speak again.

"That's a neat trick," she beamed.    Sister Jane's responded with a brief smile of her own before returning to her task.  Lost for further comment, Laverne studied the plain unpretentious wooden surfaces of the scullery.  "So...how long've you been nunning?"

Sister Jane's bow-shaped mouth turned up in a fetching smile.  Those grins were what made Sister Jane beautiful - they lit up her whole face, suggesting a life lived far beyond the cloister.  She held up four fingers, still using the other to scrub.

"Four years?  Wow..." Time made another gap before Laverne wondered, "sister, can I be honest with you?"

She nodded her head.

"I dunno if I could live here.  Not that I was ever gonna stay, y'know - I'm a good girl, but I ain't that much of a good girl..." She forced a laugh, and Sister Jane bobbed her head reactively.  "When I was little, I always told my Pop I was gonna be a nun.  Then I turned fourteen, and it kinda went out the window.  Y'know what I mean?  I don't think I could go four months without a guy..." She clapped a hand over her mouth at the turn of phrase. 

Sister Jane shuffled her shoulders and concentrated deeply on Laverne's stain.

"Guys're why I'm here..." Laverne couldn't stop herself from continuing.  "Last night, me and my best friend...well, my best guy friend...we...he gave me his tie."

Sister Jane shook her head back and forth, as if trying to figure out if she had really just heard what she thought she had heard.

"Please don't ask me what 'tie' means," Laverne begged. 

Sister Jane indicated with a wave of her hand to continue.

"Lenny's always liked me a little, but I never thought that I liked him back that way, until we...took off his tie.  I'm real confused about how to act now.  He's the kinda guy who's always trying to steal a kiss but he stops when you say to, and he remembers your birthday every year, then asks if he can give you birthday whacks."  She sighed.  "Sometimes, he acts like a little kid, but he'll turn around and treat me like a princess.  We have a lot of stuff in common, and we spend a lot of time together, but he's...LENNY.  I taught him how to tie that tie...er, not the other tie, his real tie.   But if you've known a guy since you were five and what he's really like - and you know he ain't a dreamboat and isn't very brave and doesn't have big muscles, which is what you used to think you liked the best - how could you not know he was the one years ago?"

The nun released Laverne's shirt and began to write quickly on her tablet. 

"I dunno why I'm askin'.  You can't tell me."

The scribbling stopped.  "You sound like Daniel, wrestling with the lion."

"But I..." Laverne's eyes widened.  "You talked!"

"I think I'll break my vows for this."  She took Laverne by the shoulders.  "Look into my eyes and tell me that you don't love this Lenny."

"Easy!  He made me do that once," she locked eyes with Sister Jane.  "I love Lenny."

"Did you hear what you just said?"

"Yeah!  I love -" Her mouth dropped open. 

"Now you need to tell him that.  Do it before it's too late - and I know what that hell is like.  I've been too late." She left Laverne on the stool and began to walk back and forth across the floor.  "His name was Steve.  I was studying to be a nurse and he was an army medic.  Five years ago, his unit was called up.   Steve was on the first line into Da Naang, but he kept writing me, no matter the time or the day." She stifled a sob.  "His unit was ambushed.  When it was over, there wasn't enough of him to send back to the States for burial.  We had to put a picture in his casket.  A picture and his gun."

"Aww geez...I'm real sorry..." The nun began to weep, despite Laverne's comfort.  "I know what that's like, 'cause a boyfriend once...a fireman.  I was gonna marry him.  He died the night he was supposed to propose to me."

Sister Jane used her sleeve to clear her eyes.  "You see that we've dealt with the same bad news in different ways - you avoid falling in love with Lenny.  I made the entire issue unimportant by marrying Jesus."  Laverne chuckled, in shock from shock at the nun's bluntness.  "I do believe that God's given you a second chance at a happy life in Lenny."

"You think God'd waste a miracle on me?"

Sister Jane returned her laughter, weakly.  "I think God gives each of us a chance at our own miracle, no matter what sins you've committed.  And while you're a sinner, you are a good person, Laverne."

"You don't know me too well."

"I know you well enough to believe in my words," she helped Laverne up off of the stool.  "Your stain's gone now."

"Thanks, Sister.  Don't worry - I ain't gonna tell anyone you talked to me."

"Will you promise me two things, Laverne?"

"What?"

"That you'll tell him how you feel, and you'll give me a hug."

"I will," Laverne agreed as she opened her arms for the nun.  "I promise."

***

After finishing her now - icy soup, the Mother Superior excused Laverne and gave the penitents an  hour of free time before being assigned a lodging for the night.  Tired, Laverne sought the most peaceful chamber in the convent - the pottery room.

Cool and unoccupied, it bore walls in the same red-brown shade as recently-made pots hardening by a stained-glass window.  She sat down before one of the unoccupied wheels and tried to figure out how the machine worked.

First, she needed clay - there was a bin of shiny, fresh pottery standing beside the wheel.  Laverne picked up a slippery hunk of clay and nearly lost it to the floor.  She heaved the lump onto the wheel, then started to pump the wooden bellow which made the wheel revolve.  A comfortable rhythm was reached - the faster she moved her foot, the quicker the wheel spun, the more dramatically large the bowl became.  Remembering her Girl Scout days, Laverne dug her hands into the clay with cheer.  But the large mass proved uncooperative, bending dramatically to the left when she wanted it to go to the right.  Her frustration mounted as she tried to mash the clay into a solid piece - no matter what she did, it firmly resisted every effort.

She heard the distinct whisking noise of another wheel spinning - beside her, a nun sat, working the clay.  She smiled invitingly at the sister, but she hid her face.

"Hi."

"Hello!" 

"Huh.  I didn't know British Nuns lived here."

"Right o!  Pip Pip!"

Hmm.  The voice sounded familiar and distinctly strange in pitch - but at the moment her pot-to-be was much more interesting to Laverne.

Subtly, the pot began to take shape.  Sticking her tongue out, Laverne began to rise and fall with the clay, mugging at it.  If she kept this up, she just might have a nice vase to take home. 

She sat on her haunches to make a well in the center of the vase.  As she molded the hole some strange, tuneless noise filled her ears.  Laverne grimaced - it was awfully distracting.  As she listened more closely, she could almost make out the tune, and a few works.  It sounded like a choir was being tortured with hot irons - and they were singing her favorite hymn.  But she knew it couldn't be - the choir room was downstairs, and soundproofed.

"Avee Marieea..."

The noise seemed to be getting closer.  Then she remembered seeing a group of nuns skating from room to room, singing spirituals and hymns during the orientation.  Maybe these were novices, or some of the penitents had volunteered to join an experienced nun.  That made the most sense, and eased her mind - one of the voices sounded almost professional in quality.

"Aveee Marieea...And My heart Stood Still, Da Doo Ron Ron Ron..."

And then she recognized what made those kind of noises.

A Squiggy.

"Nahh..." She told herself. 

"And his name was Bill!  Da Doo Doo Ron...Yeah!"

"Stop messin' up the song, featherbrain!"

"I ain't messin' up nothin'!  You're the one who don't remember the words, mister I-Wanna-Be-A-Singer!"

Her pot splattered into a chunky, wet mass across the wheel when she turned around to see the arguing forms behind her.  They - cloaked completely in black and looking more like ghosts than nuns - tried to run away in opposing directions.  Laverne proved quicker - she grabbed each of them by the back of their outfits.   

"What're you doing here?" She asked them.

Squiggy wriggled against her right hand.  "Well, I was just passin' through Pewaukee..."

She shook him violently.  "Why're you tryin' to scare me, you little jerk?"

"Geez!  Leggo - you're hurtin' Marvin!"

Laverne released him.  "I won't hurt you no more - just don't tell me who Marvin is."

"Couldya let me go, Laverne?  Please?  I'm askin' nice!"

Laverne glared at the form held still by her left hand.  She let go of Carmine, whose nun's habit had ridden up to cover his head. When he yanked it down, she noticed his shiner.

"What happened to your eye?" she asked Carmine.

"Lenny," Carmine shot back.

"Where's Lenny?" Squiggy wondered.  "I losted him when we were singin' Da Doo Ron Ron."

Carmine pointed behind her - to the occupied pottery wheel behind her and what she had thought was a nun.  The 'woman' panicked and plunged 'her' face into the pile of clay in front of her. 

"Lenny!  Get your face outta that stuff," Carmine shouted.

When he surfaced, Lenny's entire face was covered by a thin, shiny patina of red clay.  Squinting, he wondered, "did she see us?"

Laverne regarded the three of them with amusement and fondness combined as they gathered by Lenny's wheel.  "Whatt're you all doing?"

"We're savin' you from the nuns, Laverne." Squiggy said.

She eyed Carmine.  "You let 'em do this?"

"That ain't the reason why we're here," he smacked Lenny's shoulder.  "Tell her now man - you've got your shot."

Lenny was visibly nervous - he opened up his mouth and tried to speak, but his voice faded. 

Laverne filled the void. "Thanks for coming, guys, but I'm okay."

Carmine became visibly nervous.  "But Laverne..."

"Don't worry about me," she placed a hand on Carmine's shoulder and one on Squiggy's, pushing them past the pottery wheels and out the door.  "Didn't ya get the note?  I said I'd be fine."

"Yeah, but..." Carmine began.

"I'm comin' home tomorrow night, but I gotta sleep here today."

"What about us?" Squiggy wondered.

"I saw that the sisters are watchin' 'The Ten Commandments' downstairs.  We can still get seats in the back," Carmine offered.

"Aww, but who'm I gonna make out with?" Squiggy whined.

"Ask Marvin for advice," Carmine retorted, pushing Squiggy out of the doorway.

"Do you got rocks in your brain?  Mice can't talk!"

Squiggy and Carmine retreated from view, and Lenny tried to do the same.  Laverne grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.  "You ain't leavin'."  He stumbled behind her, and she barred the door.

Lenny regained his dignity, staring her down.  "You don't got a reason to be mad at me."

"I know.  I'm sorry I left yesterday morning - I had a lot of thinking to do alone."

"Yeah - I had a lot of drinking to do, too."

"Thinking, Len."

"Thinking makes my head hurt."

She sat down again at her pottery wheel and Lenny followed her lead, nearly tripping himself but managing to straddle the bench and face her.

Laverne kneaded her hands against the ordinary material of her skirt, staining it with the red clay.  Trying to find a way to begin, she said, "last night changed a lot of things between us, Len.  We can't be friends no more."

"Okay,” Lenny said.  With his patient expression and wide eyes, she realized he waited for her to make the biggest decision. 

"I always thought you and me were gonna just be friends," she smirked and tilted her head. "'Course, I always thought me and Shirl would be livin' near each other forever."

"It's not your fault."

"Huh?"

"It ain't your fault Shirl left, Vernie."  He put his hand upon her knee with familiarity.  "And that's what you're thinkin'."

"No I ain't!" Her temper flared.

"I know you, Laverne Marie DeFazio.  Whenever someone leaves, you get angry.  Your mom, Randy, Sonny, and Shirley - when someone you love goes away, you get mad, to pretend you ain't hurt about it." The hand on her knee squeezed gently.  "And sometimes you leave so you can't get hurt at all.  I kinda think, maybe, that that's what happened last night."

Laverne puffed out a breath, pouting, cheeks flexing. 

"I ain't gonna go away, Vernie - uh, I'll get outta here, but I won't go without you."

"That's what Shirley used to say." Laverne noted, tonelessly.

"Shirl didn't go away, either - she said she'd keep writin?" Laverne nodded.  "I ain't ever been in love with someone who takes trips a lot, but I think she had to go - she's his wife, and she loves him.  She didn't leave to make you sad."

"I know that.  It's what I keep sayin', but it doesn't make it not hurt."

"You don't have to hurt, Vernie.  She wouldn't want you to.  You and Shirl can't stay away from each other too long - I bet that when we get home, you're gonna already have a postcard watin' for you."

Laverne brightened a little.  "Yeah?"

"Remember that summer when you went to Girl Scout camp at Silver Lake, but Shirl had to stay home, 'cause Carmine gave her mono?"

Laverne laughed at the memory.  "Shirley used to write me every day!  My councilor used to come in at night with a big handful of postcards and yell 'mail call for De-Faz-E-O!'"

"I remember Shirly used make me go down to her stoop and wait for the mailman to come.  You and Shirl was my own personal Charles Atlas that summer," he flexed his left bicep.  "That's how I got these beauties."

"Yeah, I see 'em." She fondly touched his arm, and noticed the goosebumps that resulted. 

He relaxed his pose and gave her a curious, soulful look.  "I guess I'm tryin' to say that Shirl loves you that much.  And I love you that much, too."

She let silence linger between them.  His hand came up off of her thigh and he leaned back on his haunches, sucking in a breath.

"Say it," he said.

"Say what?"

"Say we're friends.  That we're gonna be friends forever, but that's all there is."  He squeezed his eyes closed.  "Go on.  I'm a man.  I can take it."

"Len..."

"It's like you said, right?  Some things just don't change..."

"Lenny..."

He wailed.  "I can't take it!"  He tried to find somewhere to hide from her eyes.

"Come back here!"  He tried to squirm out of her arms but she wouldn't let him go.  Knowing that she wouldn't until he looked into her eyes, Lenny forced one open.  "You ain't gonna ask me what I learned here?"

"To toss jerks like me out with the garbage?  And not the good garbage - the stuff that comes from the pound!"

"No!"  She wrapped her right arm around his neck.  "That sometimes you never get the chance to say how you feel about someone, and you'd better do it before you lose that person."

"You can always write Shirl..."

"Not Shirl, you big dope!  YOU!"

"Huh?" He sputtered.

"Lenny, I love you."

"Like a friend?" He wondered.

"Way more than a friend.  And I have for a real long time - probably since you offered to marry me the first time in Milwaukee."

"Are you in love with me?"

"Let's take it slow, Len."  She smiled impishly.  "You ain't even asked me out on a date!"

Lenny grinned.  "The last ten times I did, you said no."

"Oh!  It's my turn, then." She wrapped her left arm around neck.  "Wanna go watch The Ten Commandments with me, Len?"

"Do we get to make out when they part the Red Sea?"

"Making out in a nunnery?  I dunno."

"I won't use my tongue!"

"Deal!"

And then he gave her a real kiss, coating Laverne's face in red-brown clay.

***

A few minutes later, Carmine and Squiggy wandered back into the pottery room.  Carmine smiled fondly at the young couple as they kissed.

"See that, Squig?  That's worth me missin' out on the audition."

"Yeah, it sorta gets ya right here," Squiggy smacked his chest, causing an alarming squeak to sound from beneath the homemade habit.  He gasped, pulling open the front of his gown and shouting down the open collar of his shirt,  "Marvin!  Speak to me!"  After a moment of tension, he smiled in relief.  "He's okay -aww, look at him, eatin' his cheese..." He tried to show Carmine what was going on underneath his tee-shirt.

Carmine stood firm.  "Squigman, don't you ever try to make me stick my head under your shirt."

At Carmine's glower, Squiggy tried to think up a diversion.  "Look!" He pointed over Carmine's shoulder.  "Audrey Heartburn!"

Carmine did look, allowing Squiggy the time he needed to escape.  Carmine then chased his retreat away from the pottery room.

Laverne pulled away from Lenny's embrace for a moment.  "You're right - some things just don't change."

Then she sank joyously into his arms.

<I>"If there's a reason that this should not happen - A chance we will regret - then stop the carousel - and stop the music - and show me the next step..."</i>

                                                                                           -Rossane Cash,

                                                                                            "I Want To Know"

LA END