TITLE: Always Remember Walking In The Sand

UNIVERSE: Always...

AUTHOR: Missy,

EMAIL: lasfic@yahoo.com, shotzette@yahoo.com

PART: 1 of 1

RATING: PG-13 ( Adult thematic material, language)

PAIRING(s): L/L; S/C

DISTRIBUTION: To Myself  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, Drama

FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!

SETTING IN TIMELINE: California, Post-I Do, I Don't

SEQUEL TO: Ever After, Always A Bridesmaid, Always Prepared, Always a Mess, Always Apologize First, Always a Challenge, Always Too Much Lasagna, Always There For You, Always About You, Always Looking In Higher Places, Always Something Else, Always Hide Your Waterballoons, Always Safe,  Always Calm Before a Storm, Always Say You Love Me and Always Kiss Me Goodnight.  Seventeenth in this continuity.

SPOILERS FOR: The entire universe, I Do, I Don't.

SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Lenny learns an unpleasant truth about someone close to him; Shirley becomes suspicious of Carmine.

***

 

The phone jangled Laverne’s nerves with the irritating frequency of a morning magpie.  “All right,” she hollered at it while she crossed the floor of her nearly-empty apartment, carefully walking around Lenny as he exited with a pile of boxes.

 

Picking up the receiver, she said brusquely “Hello?”, wondering if it was Emmy calling to confirm their last-night-in-California dinner plans.

 

“Vernie!”

 

Her jaw dropped.  “Shirl?” she squawked as Lenny rolled his eyes from the floor.  “I thought you wasn’t gonna call ‘til Sunday?”

 

“My darling husband – by way of your cousin Joey – just had a line put in!  Isn’t it wonderful?”

 

Laverne smirked.  If Shirley had known that Joey was in the middle of a long, happy affair with a cat named Regina she wouldn’t think he was so great.  “Yeah.”

 

She heard the vague tremble in her best friend’s voice.  “I worry about accepting so many favors from your family.  Carmine’s Equity disability’s about to run out and he hasn’t found a new day job yet, so I’ve been looking for a new one – not that things are very bad here, considering how well his understudy work pays.  But your family mustn’t know, because your grandmother invited us for dinner Sunday, and she slipped me five dollars for our electric bill!  I gave it right back to her, she’s been too good to us and I certainly don’t want to live off of their generosity forever.  Oh, I’m going on about myself - how are you?  How is Lenny, and why in the world are you moving back to Milwaukee?”

 

Laverne winced at Shirley’s tone, reminding herself that her friend was only trying to act in her best interests. “I’m okay, so’s Lenny, and…” she waited until Lenny was out of the apartment to whisper, “you know why we’re going back to Milwaukee.  Len don’t bring that much in, Shirl, and I still can’t get a job – if we don’t take this we’ll be out on the street.”

 

This only gave Shirley a chance to use a lecturing tone.  “I really don’t think you’ve been trying hard enough.  I know you’ve been out on lots of interviews, but if you’d just try to ignore the flaws of others you’ll find something!  There’s no need for you both to cross the country again looking for jobs.”

 

Laverne sighed.  “Shirl, didn’t you get my letter?”

 

“I’ve got all of your postcards but no letters, and now that you mention it I meant to write but things have been crazy .”

 

Laverne jumped over her friend’s words.  “Shirl, Pop gave us Dead Laslo’s Place as a wedding gift!”

 

“NO!”

 

“Yeah!  We signed the papers to take it over last week!  Right now we’re packing up for the move, ‘cause we’re leaving on Saturday…Shirl?  Are you there?”

 

Her friend had gone quiet.  “Vernie,” Shirley sighed, “I really don’t know.  I mean…”

 

Fully prepared for her friend’s worries, Laverne interjected, “I know what you’re gonna say.”

 

“Laverne, I’m hardly predictable enough for you to guess that.”  The offense in her tone amused Laverne.

 

“You were gonna say that you and me couldn’t hack it with Dead Laslo’s, so  you have no idea how I’m gonna be able to make it work with someone like Len helping me.”

 

“That’s….how in the world did you know?”  A swatting noise and muffled laughter.  “You’re not supposed to be listening!” Laverne heard distinctly, if muffledly.

 

“I ain’t listening!” Carmine yelled in the background.

 

“Laverne, I hope you’ve both thought this through.   Neither of you have ever owned a business for more than six months without losing it,  and you’ve never owned anything jointly.”

 

“What about that goldfish?” Laverne protested.

 

“That was in second grade, and Squiggy flushed it down the toilet!” Shirley responded.

 

“But that wasn’t Len’s fault …”  Laverne pictured Shirley smirking triumphantly when she added,  “what would you call Squignoski?”

 

“A disaster,” Shirley said crisply.

 

“You’re a barrel of laughs,” Laverne said coldly – Lenny frowned as he passed by and she shook her head and pointed at the last pile of boxes on the staircase.

 

“I’m sorry,” Shirley said quietly, “Are you really sure you’ve exhausted your options there?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

She wheedled one more time, “wouldn’t it be easier if you went to work with the boys?”

 

“SHIRL!”

 

The offense in Laverne’s voice made Shirley backtrack with indignity.  “Well, if this were 1955 I wouldn’t have even asked you that question, but now that you’re married to one of them I simply though…”

 

Softly, Laverne cut her off, “Len and Squig ain’t talking again.”

 

Genuine concern showed up in Shirley’s tone.  “What happened this time?”

 

“I better start at the beginning – remember how I said in my last postcard I had to go right from the airport to sign the paperwork over at town hall?  Well…”

 

***

Two weeks before

***

 

Laverne Kosnowski’s black suede pumps clicked over the floor rapidly as she paced outside the lawyer’s office.   Occasionally, she would glance up at the clock hanging by the elevators – he was five minutes, fifteen, twenty minutes late….

 

“Vernie,” she heard suddenly, “VERNIE!”

 

“WAH?” she asked, pinning Lenny down on his uncomfortable-looking seat with her eyes.

 

Lenny squirmed beneath her glare.  “Couldja sit down?  You’re making me dizzy.”

 

Laverne gave him what was nearly passable for a smirk.  “Sorry,” she sat beside him on the splinter-dotted deacon’s bench, and then winced as one sliver of wood stabbed at her fanny.  

 

“S’Ok.  Are you nervous?”

 

“No, I always pace like this,” she snapped.  Feeling Lenny shrink back from her, she managed a thin smile.  “I’m sorry,” she said, her hands tightening around the clutch of her purse.  

 

“I toldja it’s all right,” Lenny smiled.  She moved closer to him on the bench and felt his arms slide around her.  “I know it’s kinda scary seeing your Pop after all this time…”

 

“I ain’t scared,” she said childishly.

 

“No?” he probed.

 

“No.”  Irresistibly her eyes were drawn to his, and automatically the truth came, “maybe I’m a little scared…” his hug squeezed the breath and any further speech from her.

 

“It’ll be okay, no honest, Laverne, it will be!” Lenny jabbered, his eyes wide and bright. “Your Pop can’t do nothing to us.  We’re married all legal and in the church,” he wiggled his brows, “and after what we done in Alaska there ain’t any way the Pope’d give us an annulment.”

 

His words were a poor attempt at distracting her from his hand, which was sliding up her knee and under her black miniskirt.  Not now, her mind rebelled, as she remembered the stress of the past couple of hours.  She had spent an uncharacteristic hour dressing and re-dressing herself in Alaska trying to find a properly somber combination; then all of that time on the plane had made her anxious to get her future firmly settled.  On landing she’d called her Pop at Cowboy Bills and told him flatly to meet her at his lawyer’s place in North Hollywood.  He had agreed to meet her at two – a half hour ago.   Her anger once again dissolved as Lenny’s light touch became heavy, bold, his open palm cupped around her kneecap and rubbing  upward.  Warmth spread through her, bringing back sweet but dangerous memories, so she grabbed his hand just before it disappeared completely.  “Anyone can see us,” Laverne reminded him, her voice sounding soft and dazed without its characteristic firmness.

 

“So?”  The words were spoken in the deep-voiced pant he used when aroused, the tone that always seemed to make her knees go weak.  

 

She slipped the hand holding his on her thigh up Lenny’s arm, causing goosebumps to pop up as she stroked.  “I thought I wore you out,” she teased.  “You get your energy back?”

 

“Only one way to find,” he said, lunging at her.  She dodged him, a variation of their old game that landed him temple-first against the wall.

 

“Relax,” she urged him.  “What’d they feed you on the plane, anyway?”  She’d spent much of the flight in the bathroom.

 

“We had spinach.”  He grinned at her and leaned in close.  “I ever tell you I’m like Popeye?”

 

“How?” she wondered breathlessly.

 

“Yanno how his arms get big when he eats a can of spinach?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“It ain’t my arms that get big…”

 

“Oh yeah?  Prove it,” she ordered, grabbing him by the ears for a kiss.

 

A phlegmatic harrumph from the doorway set them flying in separate directions.  

 

Laverne tried a smile on Frank, but he stood stiffly in the doorway, Edna hanging over his shoulder.  “Hi Laverne – Lenny,” she said for them both, then sharply, pressed her elbow into his back.

 

Frank’s expression remained chilly as he winced from the impact.  

 

“Pop,” Laverne said, reaching out for him, but he had faded away into the office.  Lenny squeezed her shoulder before they stepped inside.

 

The following twenty minutes were filled with legal mumbo-jumbo that sailed over Laverne’s head.  The council she and Lenny had picked out at the airport from a phone book was officious and polite and acted in the best of their interest as the papers were filed; Frank’s lawyer, whom he had retained through some cronies at the Lion’s Club, did likewise.  The entire process was boring but it wracked Laverne’s remaining nerves, especially because her father refused to look in her direction.   During a lull in the action she met his eyes but he looked quickly away once more, filling her with shame.   She waited for him to discredit her, but his responses were simple and nonthreatening.  

 

As they signed the last forms, Frank mumbled beside her, “this is your shot.  Let him prove he can take care of you.”   

 

Laverne wanted to shout that she didn’t need anyone to care for her – she could take care of herself – but stifled her anger.  A few minutes later she and Lenny walked out together the owners of a recently-refurbished diner, and Laverne was left with the impression that her father had given her the duty of Dead Laslo’s because Edna had asked him to.

 

“So,” Lenny asked when they were once again alone in the ice cream truck, “where do you wanna celebrate?”

 

Laverne growled, “I ain’t in the mood for celebrating.”

 

Somehow, as always, he knew what the problem was.  “I’m sorry your Pop’s still mad at us.”

 

“S’not your fault, Len.  He don’t think I can take care of myself, but I’m gonna prove him wrong.”

 

Silence reigned as the car switched lanes – traffic was heavy and rude as it pressed up around them.  “You don’t gotta worry about takin’ care of yourself,” Lenny said suddenly.  “That’s my job now.”

 

She turned to face him, expression impassioned.  “No it ain’t!  Len, I ain’t cut out to be Donna Reed, I mean, I wanna have babies and be your wife but…”

 

Lenny cut her off before she could reiterate her opinion.  “I know!  It’s okay, Vernie – I know what you want and I ain’t gonna stop you from getting it.  But…maybe sometimes you could let me take care of you…”  his hand ventured once more up her skirt, the van swaying alarmingly as he grabbed the steering wheel.    They pulled up to a light and he turned toward her, wrapping his arms around her body and hauling her into his lap.

 

“Sounds fair, Len.  If you let me take care of you too…” Her hand crept down to his lap and rubbed against the ridge in his trousers, making him groan and his hands tighten hard on her waist.

 

A horn blared behind them and she clambered off of his lap.  “Get this thing home before the cops pull us over,” she cried out, her hand over her heart while she groped for breath.

 

Lenny set a land-speed record for small ice-cream filled vehicles as they peeled through a series of greens, all the way back to Laurel Vista.  

 

Once safely parked, every motion was an invitation for seduction.  They stumbled backward up the steps and to the apartment – the mercifully unlocked and very dark apartment – unbuttoning buttons and unzipping shirts.  They wouldn’t have thought to have turned on the lights had Laverne not shoved Lenny backward into the wall and his groping hand hadn’t accidentally thrown the switch…

 

And several too-familiar bodies sprung up from behind her couch.

 

“SURPRISE!” they yelled together.

 

***

 

“Oh no,” Shirley croaked out, barely able to stop from giggling.

 

Laverne glared at the phone.  “This ain’t funny, Shirl.”

 

“Oh no,” she coughed.  “Of course not.”

 

***

Laverne spun around, her hands reaching around to pinch together her white top.  Watching in the living room were an amused-seeming Emmy, a confused-looking Mikey - trying to peek around his mother’s palm, a smirking Rhonda, and Squiggy – who was making a kissy-face.

 

“Hi guys,” Laverne said weakly, struggling to zip her blouse back up.  Lenny’s hands shot out and tugged the zipper before she showed his nephew her all.

 

“Lenny, Laverne, you… weren’t expecting us,” Rhonda accused mildly, her freshly-grown curls bobbing as she shook her head.

 

“I’ll say,” Emmy said reproachfully.  “Len, honey?” She released her son and walked toward her brother with a cup of punch. “XYZ.”  Lenny flushed, whirling around and zipping up his pants as Laverne took a cup of punch from Emmy.  “I take it the honeymoon went swimmingly.”

 

Squiggy made an indescribable sound of excitement – a pig’s squeal and a cat’s yowl in one united voice.  Laverne shuddered, resting instinctively backward against Lenny – to her relief he looked as annoyed as she felt.

 

“Uh huh,” Laverne smiled into her cup, knowing Emmy didn’t want the gory details.  Rhonda, on the other hand, was leaning forward in her chair and all but  drooling for more information.  Laverne promised herself she’d catch up with her friendly next door starlet later; tonight was for family.  That thought solidified, she reached down and tousled Mikey’s hair.  “How’re you doing, kiddo?”

 

He smiled up at her.  “I’m okay, Lav - Auntie Laverne,” he added quickly.

 

“Hey, we ain’t wearing penguin suits.  You can call me what you like,” she told him gently.

 

“Well, you all can call Mikey a second-grader,” Emmy said, straightening her brother’s tie quickly before heading back to the couch.  “I just checked on his enrollment in Milwaukee – the teacher’s strike ended today, and school’s resuming next week, so I booked our flight home.  Rhonda, I can’t thank your father enough for letting us use his bonus miles.” She said as she sat down.

 

“Yes, you made papa feel very loved,” then she added in a tone low enough for Laverne to hear, “but Rhonda still wishes he’d go back to the farm.”

 

Lenny frowned as he walked away from Laverne and eased into the side chair.  “I thought you wanted to stay here?” he asked Emmy.

 

“I’ve been thinking these past couple of weeks,” she admitted.  “Mostly about what Daddy said at your wedding…”

 

Lenny spoke up, “Emmy, you don’t gotta do what Pop says…”

 

“What he said was kinda right,” Emmy corrected.  “And he told me I left Milwaukee without thinking it through.  I did -  ‘cause I wasn’t thinking about anything but getting away from my memories of Gil,” She patted Mikey’s head.  “Bad as it sounds, I wasn’t thinking about what he needs.  Outside of Fonzie’s son he hasn’t been around anyone his age the whole summer, and you miss your friends, right Mikey?”

 

Mikey sighed, his tone of voice that of a man twice his age.  “I had fun, Mom!  One time me and Uncle Squiggy went to the dump and dug for buried treasure!”

 

“Buried treasure?” Emmaline asked, staring daggers at Squiggy.

 

“Uh huh!  We took a bunch of cans to the scrap yard, and after the end of the day we had a million bazillion!  When we were done, he let me keep a whole penny.”  Mikey grinned.  “Ain’t Uncle Squig the greatest?”

 

“Andrew,” Rhonda chastised before Emmaline could protest.  Squiggy shrunk down meekly on the couch, and Laverne felt a thrill of amusement as she realized how good for Squiggy Rhonda could be.

 

“Aww, I remember when we used to do that,” Lenny pouted.

 

“Ancient history, Len,” Squiggy said.

 

“He’s right,” Lenny said to Rhonda, “A year is a long time,” he nodded sagely.

 

“Oh boy,” Laverne sighed.  “Did you guys grab any eats?”

 

“Rhonda’s papa roasted a whole bunch of ribs,” she pointed one manicured nail toward Laverne’s kitchen table, “and we made corn on the cob and potato salad to go with it.”

 

“It smells great!   I’m so hungry…” Laverne rushed into the kitchen and tore open the foil coverings, becoming disheartened on seeing all of the dishes were empty.

 

“There are some doughnuts left,” Emmaline said apologetically, “unless the bottomless pit got to those too.” She shot Squiggy a glare.

 

Lenny stood up. “I’m gonna get a bucket of chicken,” he said, putting his jacket back on.  “Vernie, you need anything?”

 

Laverne had buried her head in the refrigerator.  “Get some Pepsi,” she said, resurfacing, sparing Squiggy another glare.

 

“Got it,” he said, heading out.

 

“So,” Emmy said, once Lenny had left, “who wants to play a game?”

 

“Rhonda has an idea!” she smiled, standing up and drawing every eye in the room toward her, “does anyone know how to play truth?”

 

***

 

“Is that why Lenny and Squiggy are fighting?” Shirley interrupted.

 

“Nope – Emmy ain’t ever gonna let herself be alone with Squiggy and a bottle of honey again, but the game went okay.  A few hours later, Lenny came back and I was…”

 

***

The clicking of her front door catching open woke Laverne from her hunger-induced daze, filling her with renewing hunger.  She sat up on the couch as the familiar trod of Lenny’s shoes on the floor made her pussy warm and her stomach grumble, as if all of her vacancies were fighting to be filled at once.   

 

He was standing like a statue in her living room, and his inaction proved an irritation.  “How long was the line at the chicken place?” Laverne groused.

 

She looked up into Lenny’s haunted eyes and compressed lips and her heart chilled.  “Where’s Squig?” he asked, his voice guttural.

 

“He left awhile ago  - Rhonda wanted to go to that new Italian place in West Hollywood...”  A bitter laugh came from within Lenny’s chest.  “Len,” she reached out and touched his arm and it hung there limp by his side.   “Is it Mikey?”

 

Lenny’s eyes widened.  “What happened to Mikey?”

 

Her eyes crossed.  “Nothing.  Len, tell me what’s wrong.”

 

He sank down onto the couch, pulling her down beside him.  “You ever wonder how Squig can afford all of those fancy places he takes Rhonda to?” he asked the wall.

 

She shrugged.  “I always figured he had a head for money.”

 

Lenny laughed again – an awful hollow sound that made her tighten her fingers around his thin arm.  “He ain’t gonna have a head at all if I get my hands on him…”

 

Frightened out of her wits, Laverne said, “Len, you’re talking crazy…”

 

“Squiggy’s always been smarter than me, ever since I could remember.  Yanno back in school I used to be scared of how bright he was?”

 

“We all thought Squig was scary back then,” Laverne said, her tone even.

 

“So, when I was real young I told myself I should let him do most of the talking – he was better at it, and not afraid of nothing.  So time went by, and I learned how to shut up and take what he said as the truth, since he was so smart.  And when we moved in together, I thought, since he was the brightest guy I knew – why not let him take care of the money?   He’s got a lot of smart folks in the family, and his ma ran a bootlegging scheme outta her bathroom, s’o’s I figured it was haberdashery.”

 

“Hereditary?”

 

“Ghesuntight.”

 

Laverne looked into Lenny’s eyes, which held a mixture of emotions.  “I was short five bucks for a bucket of chicken, so I went over to Rhonda’s to grab my check,” he said.  “I know Squig keeps the money in the toilet tank, so I went in there to get my cut.”  Silently he reached into the front pocket of his pants and pulled out a yellow list.  “I don’t know much about math, Vernie,” he said quietly, “but I think I been duped.”

 

She took the crumpled yellow bankbook from her husband’s hand and studied it quickly.    They were figures from Squignowski’s yearly pull, and one glance told her that all of the effort Squiggy had put into wheeling and dealing had increased the company’s worth to a surprising level – they were pulling in a few thousand a month from their cut of the talent’s wages alone.  Adding on interest plus the revenue from the ice cream vending…her mind boggled! But Laverne’s elation died away when she compared the numbers to what she knew – guiltily – was Lenny’s weekly take from the business.  All total, Squiggy was taking seventy per cent of the agency’s income.   

 

Lenny didn’t need to hear his suspicions confirmed.   Instead he let out an inarticulate wail and buried his face against her throat, and she held him through the tempest.

 

***

 

“…And now Len won’t even talk to Squig anymore – he told him to take the ‘nowski’ out of Squignowski and leave him alone.”

 

Shirley tried to offer “I’m sure the boys will work it out.”

 

“It’s a pretty bad fight, Shirl.”  Laverne watched her husband walk by, his eyes red-rimmed.  Only she knew how badly he’d been suffering the past two weeks.

 

“I’ll call Squiggy and talk some sense into him if you need me to.”

 

Laverne smirked; as much as she enjoyed the idea of making Squiggy the victim of one of Shirley’s infamous tongue-lashings, she had a feeling Rhonda would exact some payback on her.  “They’ll get over it.  I can’t imagine Len leaving and not saying goodbye.”  She watched Lenny leave with the last load of boxes and whispered, “so, how’s New York?”

 

“Oh, it’s a dream, Laverne!”

 

  Laverne smiled wryly.  “Even with the big rats?”

 

“There are big rats?” Laverne imagined Shirley’s frightened face and rushed in to comfort her.  

 

“Not in Brooklyn.  They’re way bigger in Jersey.”  The sudden hitch in Shirley’s breathing made Laverne switch tactics.  “How’s everything – besides Carmine’s job, I mean?”

 

“Well, the food’s delicious – the area’s lovely.  The building’s in a nice neighborhood.  And we have interesting neighbors.  Did I tell you that I’ve been knitting lately?  Well, one afternoon Carmine came home early from a matinee and according to him…”

 

***

The bright mid afternoon sunshine blinded Carmine as he entered the apartment.  Unused to seeing the curtains fully drawn so early in the day, he squinted to find his way around the room.  

 

His heart sang as he laid eyes on Shirley, who sat on their bed Indian-style, knitting together a long coil of braided yarn.  “New project?”

 

She grinned.  “I finished the curtains, so I thought I’d get started on the rug.”

 

“How do you make a rug out of that?”  he wondered, pointing at the snake of bright fabric.

 

“You sew the ends together and coil ‘em up,” she explained.  “This is a knitting nancy,” she explained, holding up what looked like a brightly-painted figure of a woman.  “You knot the fabric with this needle through her bottom…”

 

Carmine winced.  “I didn’t know sewing was so violent.”

 

“Oh hush.  This’ll be beautiful when I’m done, you’ll see.”  She kissed his whisker-roughed cheeks and then pointed at the table.  “I have lunch all set.  What time do you have to be back for the matinee?”

 

“Two,” he sat down and took a hearty bite from his chicken sandwich, “but they ain’t gonna need me  - again.”

 

She walked over to him, resting her hand on his shoulder.  “Don’t worry, Darling.  One day you know who’ll break his leg and you’ll be out there singing and dancing your heart out right on that stage!”

 

“Don’t do that!” he said strongly.  He grabbed her hand.  “Don’t ever wish for something bad to happen to someone, Shirl.”

 

She struggled to be free of his suddenly rough grip.  “Carmine, you’re hurting me!”

 

He instantly released her wrist, then stroked her hip.  “I’m sorry, Shirl,” he said thickly.  “I’m so sorry…” he stood up from the table and rushed out of the room before she could ask why he was holding back tears.

 

Silly boy – she couldn’t let him believe he’d hurt her!  She followed the sound of running water to the bathroom, then silently stripped off her clothing and slipped in behind him, wrapping her arms around his form.  

 

He stiffened against her touch.  “Shirl…”

 

“I’m all right,” she said against his shoulder.  “You just surprised me!”

 

“I’m sorry – I haven’t been myself lately…” The words he wanted wouldn’t seem to come out.

 

“I know,” she kissed the middle of his back.  “You were injured – you almost died – it’s an awful lot to deal with.  But you’re fine now, darling…”

 

“I shouldn’t take it out on you,” he turned and held her.  “I’m sorry, Shirl.”

 

She squeezed him.  “I know a way to make you feel better…”

 

He grinned.  “In the shower?”

 

“No…I’ve got a job interview!”

 

He paled.  “What?”

 

“It’s at the veterinary clinic on West 45^th,” she burbled.  “They’ll train me for the secretarial pool!  It’s guaranteed pay, Carmine, and a white-collar job!”

 

“No, ‘cause you ain’t going.”

 

She blinked.  “What?”

 

“It’s too dangerous out there, Angelface!  People in this town don’t have respect for girls like you…”

 

Fury suddenly rose within her – his masculine pigheadedness at work again!  “Carmine, I’m not a baby!”

 

“That’s my final word!” He crossed his arms and tried to look tough.

 

She crossed her own arms, refusing to wheedle him with her old schoolgirl tricks.  “NO it’s not!  We’re in an equal marriage – partners, Carmine!  It’s not all on your shoulders to keep us healthy and fed.”

 

“Shirl.”

 

“CARMINE!”

 

He ended the argument by kissing her fiercely, erasing her willpower and tethering her to his strong form.  The hot water embraced them in turn, making their flesh steamy and pliant as they began to caress each other….

 

And then the bathroom door flew open, admitting a staggering blonde in a mini-skirt and turtleneck sweater, who promptly leaned over the sink and tossed her cookies.

 

Carmine had pushed Shirley behind him protectively, but now they both stared at the drunken girl.  When she caught sight of them she gave them a stained grin, flashed them the peace sign, then went back to her business.

 

Carmine gave his wife a thin smile.

 

“Welcome to New York, Angelface,” he told her over the retching noises.

 

***

 

“…And that’s the downside of sharing a bathroom,” Shirley said.

 

Laverne couldn’t help but chuckle .  “Remind me to bring one of those paper seats when I come visit you.”

 

They both paused, knowing that time would be a later, far-off day that neither of them could see in the distance.  Whist entered Shirley’s tone as she spoke.  “I miss you.”

 

Laverne felt her lips curl, her face turning sad.  “I miss you too, Shirl.  I’ll call when we get settled in Milwaukee,” she added, “and I’ll give you my new address.”

 

“Good luck, Vernie – I don’t know if you’re making the right choice, but you’re certainly making a brave one.”

 

Laverne smiled to herself as she rested the phone in its cradle.  Possessing not one single doubt, she followed her husband out the door and into their new life.

 

***

 

The moon rose as they strode down Pilot Whale Beach.  

 

“So it’s really gonna happen,” Lenny said quietly.  “You’n’me are gonna go to back home.”

 

Was Milwaukee really home?  Laverne didn’t want to worry Lenny with her question.  “Just as soon as we gas up the truck.”  She frowned.  “You sure Squig don’t mind if we borrow it?”

 

Lenny drew her close to him, and then pulled a thick bundle from his front pocket.  “That ain’t all what I borrowed.”

 

The moonlight caught a thick wad of hundred dollar bills.

 

“Lenny,” she whispered, stunned by the proliferance of cash.  “Where did you get this from?”

 

“It’s only what Squig owes me – enough to put a deposit down on an apartment and live on ‘til we get the business off the ground,” Lenny grabbed her hands.  “You deserve the best, Vernie…”

 

“Len, this is…”

 

“It’s taking what belongs to me,” he said firmly.  

 

She had never seen Lenny so assertive – and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit it aroused her.  “What about what belongs to me?” she responded, grabbing him by his collar.

 

The kiss was brief but charged.  When he pulled away, his grin was all promises, “I already belong to you.”

 

“We belong to each other, and,” she stepped away and pulled the strap down on her green dress, “we can have each other.  Right here.”

 

Lenny blinked at her.  “You sure?”

 

The dress dropped to the sand in answer.

 

“When’d you turn into onea those liberated chicks, Tigerlily?” he teased her, as she grabbed him by the cheeks and pulled him playfully onto the shore, where they rolled and touched and tasted in abandon.

 

Goodbye, California, Laverne thought, then gave up rationality for good.

 

END

To Always Kiss Me Goodnight
To Always Something There To Remind Me