Better Left Unsaid

Shirley knew she should just let it go. No good could come of dwelling on the past. But it was a lot easier said than done.

After finding Carmine’s note to Laverne, Shirley had nearly gone blind with hurt and anger. Oh, sure, Laverne had explained that her attraction to Carmine, and his apparent reciprocation, had never gone beyond a few kisses and one disastrous dinner together. And Carmine had practically stood on his head and sworn that he didn’t even remember the incident from three years ago, so surely it hadn’t meant much to him.

Or had it? This was the question that plagued Shirley as she struggled to pay attention to her bottle capping duties at Shotz. How could he not remember such a betrayal, with her best friend yet? Sure, there were no vows between them, not even a promise to go steady, and he’d been with other girls on and off throughout their entire relationship. But at least when she’d asked him about them, he’d had something nice to say. "Oh, she was no where as pretty as you, Angel Face." "No, sweetie, she wasn’t nearly as sweet." "Her? Oh, she was a waste of my time." They may have been kind lies, but at least he’d tried. He didn’t just say, "I don’t remember it at all." He had to remember, so why didn’t he just admit it?

And she was afraid to push him on it. Afraid that he did remember it, all too well. Afraid to find out why he was lying.

Shirley glanced over at Laverne, who was frowning as she slapped caps on her bottles. "You’re gonna shatter them if you keep smacking the tops on like that, Vernie," she cautioned.

Laverne muttered, "I know whose top I’d like to smack."

"Excuse me?"

Her friend looked over and Shirley could see guilt in her eyes. It had been there ever since their confrontation two days ago. Laverne had been going out of her way to be extra special nice to her, and as she obviously forced herself to smile, Shirley realized that it was getting annoying.

"Nothin’, Shirl. Just, um, thinkin’ about someone...something, I mean. Something."

"Oh. And what would that be?"

Laverne cleared her throat. "Oh, never mind. It shouldn’t matter now."

"Shouldn’t?"

"Doesn’t. It doesn’t." Laverne was shifting from foot to foot, her eyes looking everywhere except into hers.

Let it go, Shirley’s good sense told her. You don’t want to push this. But her stubborn side responded, "If the something doesn’t matter so much, you shouldn’t be so distracted by it. Obviously you’ve got something on your mind. Why don’t you just tell me?" She added in her head, ...and get it over with?

Just then the buzzer went off, signifying break time. Laverne’s face relaxed and she went hurrying off to the break room without another word. Shirley pressed her lips tightly together and followed her. Laverne picked out her milk and Pepsi and she selected a cola, then they sat down together at their usual table.

Laverne tried to make small talk. "I hear that Elizabeth Taylor’s getting married again. Can you believe it?’

"How nice for Liz," said Shirley.

"Yeah."

Shirley stared into her soda for a moment, then said, "I don’t suppose I’ll ever have one wedding, let alone two or three, like Ms. Taylor."

Laverne groaned. "Shirl, please. You don’t even want to marry Carmine!"

Shirley leaned a little closer to her. "Do you?" she shot.

Pulling back, her friend looked shocked. "What? What? You’ve got to be kiddin’ me!" She laughed, but it sounded strained. "Shirl, you can’t possibly believe...."

"Oh, of course not. That would be ridiculous, my best friend and my boyfriend. Why, that could never happen."

"For cryin’ out loud." Laverne took a swig of her milk and Pepsi, then stared at the table top. "Believe me, Shirl, marrying Carmine’s the last thing I want to do to him."

"Really."

"Yeah, really! C’mon, Shirl, he told you himself, he doesn’t even remember what went on between us. Not that much went on," Laverne quickly added. "But whatever it was, it meant so damn little to him that it just slipped his mind." She clenched her right hand into a fist and began pounding it on the table. "It was that unimportant, that trivial, that...."

Shirley glared at Laverne. "Obviously, you don’t feel the same way!"

"Shirl, stop it! I just meant that it’s, you know, a little hurtful. I mean, even if you don’t want someone – er, um – like someone, that way anymore, not to even think about it at all! Do you understand what I’m sayin’?"

"Do you?" Shirley countered. "Because it’s sounding to me an awful lot like your feelings are hurt."

"Well, yeah. I guess."

"Which means you have feelings!"

"Of course I do. I’m human, ain’t I?"

"For Carmine!" Shirley hissed. "Otherwise, why would you care? Why would he be on your mind, why would it make you angry, why would you be so distracted? Admit it, you’re disappointed that he doesn’t want you in that way!"

"What?" Laverne shoved her chair back and stood up. "Shirl, are you completely nuts? I don’t want Carmine. I mean, I like him...."

"Ah-ha!"

"What ah-ha? No ah-ha! As a friend, that’s all. It’s like I told him back then, sometimes friends feel like there’s more there between ‘em because they like each other already...."

"I see your memory of the affair is nice and clear," Shirley muttered.

Laverne threw her hands up. "For pity’s sake, Shirl. You of all people know who I secretly like that way. And we both know it isn’t Carmine."

As if on cue, Lenny and Squiggy strolled into the break room. They started over toward the table, but Shirley sent her most scathing look their way and they turned tail and sat down clear across the room.

Laverne quickly sat down and lowered her voice. "If there’s anyone who’s got me...curious...about what it’d be like, he’s sitting over there."

"Lenny," Shirley said, shaking her head. "You still expect me to believe that you have some sort of bizarre attraction to that greasy blond goofball?"

"Hey!" Laverne looked offended. "Don’t say that about him. Len’s a good guy under all that grease. If he’d just stop hangin’ out with Squig all the time, well, who knows? He could be a guy a gal would be proud to be seen with."

"You are honestly attracted to Lenny?" Shirley looked deeply into Laverne’s eyes.

Without flinching or glancing away, Laverne replied, "Yeah. Yeah I am. Satisfied?"

Shirley relaxed a little. "Maybe. Kind of. Oh, Vernie." She sighed. "I’m sorry. I don’t know why this thing with Carmine is still bugging me. I guess, maybe because I’m, you know, attracted to him, I expect other girls to be."

"He does have a nice hiney," Laverne said.

Shirley frowned. "Forget about his hiney. It’s my hiney." She felt her heart sink a little. "Mine, and Lucille’s, and Debbie’s, and whomever else he takes a fancy to."

Laverne put her hand on Shirley’s shoulder. "Shirl, I’m sorry. I know you wish Carmine would settle down, at least a little. But, be honest, you haven’t exactly given him reason to."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you date other guys, right? You keep sayin’ you’re lookin’ for Mister Right, or should I say Doctor Right."

"Yeah? So what?"

"So, how can you expect Carmine not to keep lookin’, too?"

Shirley’s shoulders slumped. "I guess. It’s one thing when he’s looking elsewhere, though. It’s another when he’s looking at my best friend."

"He didn’t look that hard," said Laverne, irritation creeping into her voice. "Trust me, Shirl, whatever it was, it’s over. Finito. Finished. History. I don’t know how else to tell you."

Shirley nodded and managed a little smile. "So, why don’t you let Lenny know that he’s been on your mind?"

Laverne glanced over at the table across the room. "Because. It wouldn’t work."

"How do you know?"

Laverne shrugged. "I just do. He’s not ready yet. Maybe in a few years, he’ll grow up a little more. Maybe then."

"All right, but really, you shouldn’t let it go too long. If you are serious about getting to know him better like that, you should tell Lenny, before he runs off with some circus performer."

"I’ll think it over," said Laverne. "Say, why are you suddenly so gung-ho on Len and me gettin’ together?"

Shirley bit her lower lip, then said, "I just want everyone to be happy."

"Oh. That’s real nice of you, Shirl. But don’t worry. I’m happy the way I am." Laverne glanced back at Lenny’s table, then quickly looked away again when he gave her a little wave. "Happy, happy, happy," she murmured.

Shirley nodded. They were quiet throughout the rest of their break. Shirley didn’t have the heart to tell Laverne that she wanted her to hook up with someone, anyone, who wasn’t Carmine, so that she could finally let the whole thing go. She didn’t have the heart to admit it to herself, either.

***

A pounding at his apartment door brought Carmine to his feet. He snapped off the television and hurried over to the door. "Who is it?" he asked, hoping it wasn’t another bill collector.

"It’s me, Laverne. Laverne DeFazio, in case you’ve forgotten!"

Confused, Carmine opened the door. He found himself looking into Laverne’s flashing green eyes. "Um, is something wrong?"

"You bet your bippy something’s wrong!" Laverne stalked into the apartment and nearly tripped over a pile of laundry near the door. She cursed under her breath, then folded her arms and stood there, glaring daggers at him.

Carmine turned to face her and waited. Finally, he said, "So are gonna explain what the problem is, or are you just gonna stare me to death?"

"You really don’t have a clue, do you?"

Carmine thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Nope. Not a one."

Laverne heaved a sigh. "Shirley came and talked to you the other night. About our little time together, three years ago. Or have you forgotten that conversation, too?"

Uh, oh, Carmine thought. Here we go. He smiled uneasily and said, "No, no. I haven’t forgotten. That."

"Carmine, how could you? How could you not even remember what we felt for each other?"

"Whoa, slow down," said Carmine, raising his hands defensively. "Laverne, it’s not like we were Bogey and Bacall. We felt...something, sure. But we both agreed after the fact that it wasn’t love."

"So you do remember!" Laverne waved her finger under his nose. "You remember what happened!"

"Of course I do," Carmine sighed. "I’m not senile."

"Then how could you tell Shirley...."

"Oh, come on. You know Shirl! When she came over here the other night, she was stark staring mad. She lit into me like nobody’s business." He shuddered a little at the memory. "I guess I panicked."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, this was so out of the blue. You and I, we agreed a long time ago to keep our little, temporary attraction to ourselves. Then all of a sudden, Shirley’s in my face, accusing me of having an affair with you, and, well, all I could think of was how to get us out of it. So I told her that I didn’t remember what happened, but if something did, then I was sorry." He took a deep breath. "It seemed to work. She calmed down, stopped talking about never wanting to see me again."

Laverne still looked angry, but her voice was lower. "Well, I guess that took care of you. She’s still sore at me, though."

"Really? Geeze, I’m sorry, Laverne. You know, I’d never want to ruin your friendship. You two, you mean so much to each other."

"Yeah, well," Laverne shrugged, her voice dropping to a more conversational tone. "I think I really hurt her."

"I guess we did," sighed Carmine. "Look, maybe I should have been straight with her when she confronted me. I guess I was hoping she’d just let it go."

"Right. Because that’s so like Shirl."

"You’re right. You’d think I’d know her by now." Carmine shook his head. "She’s just so damned unpredictable sometimes. I think she’s gonna be angry about one thing and she brushes it off, then she goes ballistic over the tiniest little mistake! I never know what she’s going to do."

"You and me, both."

He and Laverne looked at one another. Carmine could see his own, lingering guilt reflected in Laverne’s wide eyes. She gave him a reluctant smile and his heart sank. "We’re gonna have to have this out, all three of us, aren’t we?" he said.

Laverne nodded. "I’m afraid so."

Carmine lowered his gaze to the floor. "Can’t we...um...just...."

"No."

"How about you...."

"Uh-uh."

"But if I just...."

"Forget it, Carmine."

"Okay!" Carmine kicked at a stray tennis shoe, then forced himself to look at Laverne again. "I’ll do it. When?"

"No time like the present," said Laverne. Before he could open his mouth to protest, she raised her right hand. "It’ll be better if we don’t let this fester!"

"Fine. No festering. Let’s go." Carmine glanced around until he spotted his jacket slung over the sofa. Grabbing it, he gestured toward the door. "Ladies first."

"Oh, no you don’t." Laverne grabbed his arm and yanked him out into the hallway. "We’re doing this together, you and me. I’m not gonna find myself lookin’ back over my shoulder at the empty space where you should be!"

"Hey, I’m no coward!" Carmine protested, although the thought of slamming his apartment door behind Laverne and locking it had crossed his mind. But he obediently kicked it shut behind him and allowed Laverne to pull him through the hallway, down the stairs, and out of the building into the night to find Shirley.

***

They hadn’t noticed her at all. She was invisible to them, her and her feelings.

Shirley watched Laverne and Carmine leave his apartment, arm in arm, going off to do who knows what at this time of night. Oh, you know what, Shirley told herself, then bit her lower lip, fighting her tears. She rose slowly to her feet from her hiding place under the staircase, just outside Carmine’s door. Laverne’s conversation with...what was Carmine to her anyway? Her lover? Was that the correct term? Whatever, it had been muffled, but the tone, the passion, had been unmistakable. She hadn’t needed to catch more than a few words like, "...mean so much to each other," and "We’re gonna have to have this out" to figure out the gist of their conversation.

"They’re on their way to tell me together that he’s through with me. Carmine’s chosen Laverne, my best friend, over me! That no-good, two-faced, two-timing...!"

"Hello."

Shirley jumped, then realized that Squiggy had come up behind her. He regarded her with his narrow, black eyes for a moment, then asked, "What’re you doin’, lurkin’ out here with your red face and your puffy eyes of sadnitude?"

Shirley tried to speak, but only a sob escaped her lips. Unable to stop herself, she flung her slender body against Squiggy’s. "Oh, Andy, it’s too awful! I can’t even believe it, except I heard it with my own ears...saw with my own eyes...."

She felt Squiggy’s hand awkwardly thumping against her back. "There, there," he said, sounding very uncomfortable. "Shut up, okay, you’re scarin’ me."

Sniffling, she raised her face to his. "Carmine," she managed to moan.

"No. Squiggy," he corrected, pointing at his face. "Squig-gy. Although I can understand how’s you might get us confused."

"No, you idiot!" Shirley shoved him back and roughly wiped her eyes with her fist. "Carmine is cheating on me."

Squiggy just looked at her. Finally, he said, "And?"

"And? And! Isn’t that enough?"

"Um, no. I mean, no offense, Shirley, but Carmine cheats on you all the time. You should be used to it by now."

"Well, it is one thing when it’s with a girl I don’t know," hissed Shirley. "It is a very different matter when it is with my best friend!"

"Boo-boo Kitty?" inquired Squiggy. He thought for a moment, then his eyes opened wider. "Oh, wait, you mean...you don’t mean...."

"I do! I do mean!" Shirley began pacing angrily. "First she tells me it was a passing fancy three years ago. Then he tells me that he doesn’t even remember it, it was so unimportant. And now, bam! They’re running off together into the night!"

"Wow," said Squiggy, shaking his head. "Len’s gonna be crushed like old potato chips."

"That’s right, I...wait a minute." Shirley stopped pacing. "Len? What does Lenny have to do with any of this?"

"Well, I ain’t supposed to say nothin’," said Squiggy, coyly.

"I’ll give you a nickel," Shirley offered.

"Okay! Lenny likes Laverne!"

"Really?" Shirley was genuinely surprised. Lenny had never shown any more interest in Laverne than he had in any of the other red-blooded females who ignored him in Milwaukee.

Wouldn’t Laverne love to know that her interest in Lenny is requited? Shirley thought. Then, a new thought crept into her mind. A dark, very unladylike, idea.

"Um, Shirley?" Squiggy was studying her face. At the same time, he took a step backward. "Why are you smilin’ like that?"

"Like what?" she asked absently, her mind focused on fleshing out her plan.

"Like you was a cat about to snack on some canary."

You can do this, she told herself. You’re a Fighting Feeney. And sometimes the only way to win a fight is to get as down and dirty as your opponent.

Shirley nodded, then took a deep breath. "So, Squiggy," she said as casually as she could. "Where might I find Lenny tonight?"

***

Exhausted, Laverne pushed open the door to her apartment. The small living room was dark. "If you’ve been here all night, Shirl, after we went searchin’ for you all over town, I’m gonna cry," she muttered, stepping inside. She walked over to the sofa and dropped onto it with a weary yawn, closing her eyes and resting her head against the back.

She and Carmine had gone down to the Pizza Bowl, over to the bar at the Hotel Pfister, even over to Big Rosie’s house searching for Shirley, all to no avail. Finally, Carmine had begged her to give it up, saying that Shirley must have doubled back from wherever she had been and gone home. As it was already after midnight, Laverne agreed that even if she was back at their apartment, it was far too late to start what would inevitably be a long and difficult discussion. Bidding Carmine good night, she had returned home, alone and unsuccessful, dreading another night of guilt-ridden dreams.

A giggle from the bedroom caught Laverne’s attention. She sat straight up and listened. Very faintly, she heard Shirley’s voice, the words impossible to decipher. Then she heard another voice respond.

A man’s voice.

Rising slowly to her feet, Laverne crept closer to their bedroom. She paused at the door, debating the wisdom of bursting in on something that she shouldn’t. Come on, she chided herself. This is Shirl we’re talkin’ about! How bad can it be? Allowing her curiosity to win out, Laverne pushed the door open slowly, quietly. Then she poked her head in.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light in the bedroom. At first, all she could make out were two shapes in Shirley’s bed, one on top of the other. Then, as if in a flash of terrible clarity, she realized that Shirley was underneath a man, her bare, pale arms wrapped around his neck, giggling and moaning with apparent pleasure.

Oh, no, what the hell is she doing? She can’t be throwing herself away like this, not over Carmine! Stunned, Laverne stepped all the way into the room and snapped on the light, hoping against hope that it wasn’t too late to stop her best friend from making a permanent, horrible mistake.

The two figures on the bed froze. Shirley sat up, clutching the sheet under her chin. Her expression was odd for the situation; there was some surprise, but mostly there was humor. And something less clear. Was it...satisfaction?

"Laverne!" Shirley exclaimed. "My God, what are you doing here?"

"I live here!" Laverne snapped. Then her eyes slid from her friend’s face to that of the flushed young man now twisting awkwardly onto his knees. Laverne’s eyes locked onto his wide, blue eyes, took in his tousled blond hair and reddened cheeks. It was amazing how now, in this bleak moment, he had never appeared more attractive to her.

"Lenny," she whispered, grasping the doorframe to keep herself upright. "Lenny...what...why?"

"Oh, hey, Laverne," he replied, his voice trembling as much as her legs. "How’s...um. How’s it goin’?"

"Not so good, Len," she replied. Her own voice sounded high and tinny in her ears. She swallowed a sudden knot of nausea and stared at them, Lenny and Shirley, in bed together. Even though it was right in front of her, she couldn’t absorb the scene as real.

Lenny started to get out of bed, but Shirley clamped one hand onto his bare shoulder. "Wait, Leonard!" she exclaimed. "You aren’t decent!" Though she was speaking to him, her eyes never left Laverne’s. A smug little smile twitched at the corners of her lips.

"Oh. Yeah, right. I forgot." Lenny made sure the sheet was tight around his midriff. "Laverne, um, I can explain."

"There’s no need," she replied, a chilling calmness coming over her. She started to back out of the room. "I mean, you’re a single man. Shirl’s a single gal. You’re both adults."

"That’s right," said Shirley. Her expression shifted to one of dismay, but Laverne thought it looked false. "We’re all adults here. And sometimes two people who are just friends start to feel more for each other. Laverne understands what that’s like. Don’t you, Laverne?"

"Perfectly," Laverne whispered. She blinked hard, as if she could clear this whole, terrible vision away. "I understand perfectly."

"See?" Shirley was smiling again, a mocking look of relief. "Do you see, Lenny? Laverne knows how it is."

"Yeah," said Lenny, not sounding convinced. His blue eyes were slightly glassy in the light and his expression, unlike Shirley’s, seemed to be one of genuine remorse. "Um, so we’re okay here, right?"

"What...oh. You mean me?" Laverne tried to laugh, but the sound caught in her throat. "Sure, of course. I mean it isn’t like you and me...like we....."

"Right," said Shirley. "Because then it would be wrong." Her eyebrows knit together and she hissed, "Wouldn’t it!"

"Right. Wrong." Laverne swallowed, tried to clear her throat. She stepped out of the room, pointing aimlessly into the living room. "Look, I’ve got to...I should...go...." Without waiting for a response, she spun around and ran out of the bedroom.

As she plunged blindly through the door of their apartment, she thought she heard Lenny calling her name. But he was drowned out by the sound of Shirley’s gleeful laughter.

It wasn’t until Laverne had scaled three flights of stairs that she paused, wondering where the hell she was going. She could never discuss this with her father. Mrs. Babish was out, because it would still get back to Pop. None of her other girl friends were around this time of night and she had never confided in anyone her true feelings for Lenny. No one, except for her best friend, the person she’d normally turn to in such a heartrending situation. And now she didn’t even have her.

Laverne pressed her back against the wall, then slumped down, wrapping her arms around her knees. The stinging tears she had managed to contain until she was well out of earshot of Lenny began their escape, running icily over her exertion and pain-heated face. A sob rose from somewhere deep in her belly, rising into her throat with a sickening urgency for escape. She was helpless to hold it back and the sound of it echoing in the stairwell broke through the remaining dam of her self-control. She sobbed – loudly, helplessly – like she hadn’t since her mother died. The depth of her own pain both surprised and overwhelmed her.

"Why?" she gasped, looking up through her tears at the blurred ceiling. "Why?"

***

"Well, that went well," said Shirley, cheerfully.

"You think?" Lenny replied.

"Of course!" She threw back the sheet, revealing the blouse she had pulled down under her arms. She wriggled until her arms were back through the sleeves, then stood up, adjusting her slightly twisted slacks. "Ugh, I’m going to have to iron these."

Lenny stood up as well, patting at his blue jeans. "Yeah. Me too."

Shirley raised an eyebrow at him, then said, "Put on your shirt before you catch a cold." She politely turned toward the wall and waited until he said, "Okay, I’m decent. Well, at least I’m not half-naked." He chuckled, but it sounded a little forced.

Turning back, Shirley began to straighten up her bed. She stopped, then yanked the bedclothes entirely off. "It was time to change these anyway," she murmured.

"Yeah, um, Shirl?" asked Lenny, folding his arms and cocking his head to one side. "Could you please explain to me again just what we accomplished here tonight with this little show?"

"Of course, Leonard," she sighed. He was really slow sometimes. It made her wonder yet again what Laverne saw in the boy. Although he didn’t look nearly as unpleasant as she had expected without his shirt on.

Pushing such thoughts aside, she said, "You like Laverne, right? Really like her, not just as a passing acquaintance."

"Well, yeah. Although I’m gonna pound Squig into an ink stain for tellin’ you!"

"That’s lovely. Now I told you that Laverne likes you too, deep down inside."

"Yeah, you did." A little smile lit up Lenny’s face. "I couldn’t hardly believe it when you found me and told me that tonight."

"It’s the truth, Lenny. Except Laverne, she’s a little shy about her feelings sometimes." Shirley picked up a brush and began methodically smoothing her hair back into place. "Sometimes she needs a little – prompting – before she gets in touch with her real emotions."

"And makin’ her think you and I was, um, well, you know." He flushed crimson. "Doin’ it?"

"I believe the words you are struggling for are making love."

"Right. That. By makin’ Laverne think that you and me were makin’ love," he broke off and giggled uncontrollably. Shirley smacked him in the shoulder until he stopped.

"That will force her to realize how much she really likes you. That she shouldn’t wait any longer to tell you how much she wants you." Shirley felt her triumphant grin return. "She shouldn’t have waited as long as she did."

"So, now what?" Lenny turned a little morose. "She looked so hurt and sad."

"Yes, well, that will pass. Soon she’ll come barreling up to your apartment and demand to talk to you. She’ll yell and call you names and then you’ll ask her why she cares so much."

"And she’ll be forced to tell me the truth. That she likes me." Lenny relaxed a bit, but still looked downcast. "I just hope she can forgive me afterward for settin’ this up with you."

"Of course she will," Shirley reassured him. "Once you tell her that you feel the same way and explain that nothing really happened between us, everything will be great. You’ll be together and Laverne will never look at another man again. Not at mine, not at anyone else’s."

"Huh?"

Shirley gave herself a brisk shake, then put down her brush. "Don’t worry about a thing, Lenny. I know Laverne. This will work, really it will." She pointed to the bedroom door. "You can get out now."

"Oh. Right. I guess I’d better get home before she comes a’knockin’." Lenny hurried out the bedroom door. Shirley followed him, to make sure he didn’t get distracted by the kitchen or television before he left the apartment.

In front of the apartment door, Lenny paused and looked back at her. "Say, Shirl?"

"Yes?"

"Um, I was just wonderin’. What do you get out of all this?"

"Why, whatever do you mean?" asked Shirley, widening her eyes innocently.

"Well, you know. This was a lot for you to go through just to get Laverne and me together." Lenny folded his arms, scrutinizing her face. "Why, all of a sudden, are you so interested in us bein’ happy?"

"Lenny, I’m shocked," Shirley replied, trying to sound offended. "Of course I want my best friend in the world to be happy! Once I realized that being with you would do that for her, I made it my personal mission to get you two kids together."

"Yeah," Lenny didn’t sound convinced. "But it ain’t like you’ve ever been all that approvin’ of me in the past. Why now?"

"It isn’t about me. It is about Laverne. And she wants you." Shirley smiled brightly. "That was all I needed to know."

"Okay." Lenny nodded slowly, then opened the door. "I guess then, this is good night. Right? I mean, you don’t need anything else from me, do you?"

"No, Lenny," she said, watching him leave. "I’ve gotten all I needed from you already."

She waited until he closed the door, then walked back into the bedroom, whistling, as she undressed for a good, long shower.