A/N: Thanks again for the reviews! You know, I'm really glad I decided to write a story. I've been reading storied around here for a little while and finally decided I had enough inspiration to start a story. Thanks for the reviews!
As for this chapter, this is the last set-up chapter of everything, but I want you to get an idea of what the atmosphere for what the characters are like before they meet up.
I do not own Lizzie McGuire.
Chapter Two
Ordinary Day
The next morning, when Lizzie got up, no one was there, but she did find a note left by Miranda explaining that she was out for breakfast. Lizzie ate breakfast and then started to get ready for the day with taking a shower, getting dressed and looking at her schedule. She had a wedding to attend and she had to be there at four, but other than that, she only had two appointments- a possible new client, and looking at a location out at Disneyland. Personally, Lizzie wanted nothing more than to throw cake at the bride's face when a suggestion like a theme park was made as a wedding choice. As a coordinator, she couldn't count the number of times people wanted to get married in some random place, like a zoo or a theme park, and how much of a hassle it was to work everything out.
In fact, in Lizzie's opinion, the only place worse than a theme park was Las Vegas. What was up with that place, anyway? The city is tacky, despite the entertainment, the wedding already spells, "It won't last!" Also, and Lizzie always held her tongue on saying this, but to hire a wedding coordinator and go off to Vegas without knowing anyone there as family is giving the wedding coordinator free money.
After she was ready, she headed for her office to deal with the day. Saturdays were always hectic for Lizzie, as someone was usually getting married and also, it was a time where both halves of a couple could spent time in the day together and therefore, when there wasn't a wedding, there was demand for her to spot locations, pick out floral arrangements, look for entertainment for the reception, and sometimes become the mediator for small arguments between the future happy couple. Despite all this, however, and disregarding a couple of the celebrity weddings she helped with, every wedding story she was involved with (other than her own, of course) had a happy ending and not one of her clients, again, pulling aside a few of the celebrity crowd, had gotten a divorce.
Part of that might have to do with the fact that she was picky with who she helped, especially now that she could afford to be picky. She had quite a large sum of money in her bank account and rarely pulled any of the money out of it. She had her reasons, though, and they weren't as some oblivious people asked, for her future, lavishly decorated exotic wedding. No, but she never willingly talked about her relationships, either.
She was saving up for something, in her opinion, more spectacular than any wedding. She had dreams of starting a charity and building a house for the charity when she had the chance. The reason for the charity was driven from her experiences with clients and the purpose would be to help people with less money fulfill their idea of a dream wedding without having them spend too much money. She wanted everyone to feel special on what is supposed to be the happiest day of someone's life and she felt that if she could so this among other smaller projects within the charity, she could die happily.
A few minutes after she arrived, the possible new clients arrived. Both looked to be in their early thirties and the woman, as usual, looked much happier to be there than the man. Apparently, they had flown in all the way from Indiana (although, Lizzie had experienced further distances) to pursue the chance to have, what the woman called, "their dream wedding," although Lizzie had a feeling that this dream mainly belonged to the woman.
After spending enough time with them to get to know them, Lizzie decided that the couple was worth her time, as they looked happy together and that was her number one reason to agree to any wedding.
An hour after they left and set up more information, such as when Lizzie should come to Indiana and their next appointment (the next day), Lizzie had to pick up an early lunch and headed out to Disneyland. She was going to meet the couple there, and they arrived right as she arrived and they joined up and looked around the park. Lizzie went along with whatever they said, as they analyzed the idea of a theme park wedding and didn't say much, although after two hours of looking around and discussing it, Lizzie had to admit that she wasn't disappointed when they decided to try and look some place. Lizzie told them she would e-mail them a list of places to consider by Monday and they went their separate ways.
Now, it was time for Lizzie to head all the way to the Hilton hotel in Los Angeles for the wedding that started at six-thirty. When she got there, her assistant, Wendy, was there overseeing the reception set up that had a stage, numerous tables, and a dance floor. Lizzie oversaw this until she got a call on her cell phone—surprise, surprise, it was Miranda.
"Lizzie! I've been trying to reach you all day! Where have you been?"
Lizzie rolled her eyes, "Miranda, it's Saturday! What do you think I'm doing? I was in a meeting, and then I went to Disneyland to look at a location. What do you want?"
"I want to talk to you, that's all," Miranda said, "What time do you think you'll be getting home?"
"Around midnight," Lizzie guessed, "Why?"
"Because," Miranda said, "Michael and I came up with a few ideas and there is something I'm dying to talk to you about."
Lizzie sighed and rolled her eyes, "Well, can you tell me now?"
"No! It's something I need to tell you in person."
"Okay, well, if I don't see you later tonight, I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Fine. Have fun at the wedding."
"Thanks. Have fun at the restaurant."
Lizzie hung up and went back to focusing on the wedding that would start in a little over an hour. The bride and groom arrived as guests did as well and the evening went well. The couple got married, had a reception and left for their honeymoon suite. The other guests left and the last person there, a drunk older man, had to be approached by Lizzie, "Excuse me, sir?" she said, tapping his shoulder.
The man looked at Lizzie with his watery eyes and took another sip of whatever he was drinking, "Oh, hey," he said, reaching his arm out and placing it on her shoulder, "You know, my ex-wife's nephew got married today."
Lizzie nodded her head. She was used to people like this. She started to walk him out of the room, and calling him a taxi.
Once they were outside, the man let go of Lizzie and looked her over, "You're very attractive, young lady. What's your name?"
"Lizzie," she said, sitting down on the bench.
"Lizzie?" he repeated in his drunken state, "You know, I grew up with a girl named Lizzie. She had blond hair just like you. Or was it brown?" he hiccupped, "Anyway, she moved away to Missouri or Kentucky or one of those states out east and I never saw her again. She was nice, though."
Lizzie smiled and nodded her head, but didn't say anything.
"You know who you remind me of?"
Lizzie shook her head, "No. Who?"
The man put his finger up, "My second ex -wife. I was married three times, you know."
Lizzie still said nothing, although she always felt a slight amount of relief and happiness to hear about other people's failed relationships. It always reassured her that she wasn't alone.
"She had blonde hair just like you and was pretty, very pretty."
"What happened to her?"
"Oh, she ran off with my best friend. That was over twenty years ago, though."
Lizzie smiled sadly as she felt certain sympathy for this man, "I'm sorry to hear that."
The man waved his arm, "Sorry! Everyone's sorry and why are they sorry?" he shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands, "Why should anyone be sorry? I learned from it all. May I give you some advice, miss?"
Lizzie nodded her head.
"When you love someone, and I mean really love someone," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder, "imagine that person with your best friend. That way, you won't be so disappointed when you come to find that they've been seeing each other," the man nodded his head, "In fact, save time and be your own best friend. Think about it. It works."
Lizzie nodded her head. It was one of the strangest things anyone had ever said to her, and before she could hear any more of this man's witty advice, the taxi arrived and he was gone. The last guest of the wedding had left and Lizzie went back inside and almost all the decorations were gone. Soon, it was time to go home.
Lizzie drove home and she saw that right as she was parking her car, Miranda was coming home as well, "Perfect timing," Miranda said, as she got out of Michael's car, "Bye, Michael! I'll see you tomorrow! I love you!"
Miranda and Lizzie walked up to their apartment and Miranda put on some coffee and both of them went to put on their pajamas. It was almost two o'clock in the morning, but neither of the best friends was tired as they say down in their living room with their coffee and started talking.
"So," Lizzie said, curling up on one side of the couch and leaning against the arm as she sipped her coffee, "What do you want to talk about."
"Well," Miranda said, "First of all, Michael and I were planning on having a wedding next year around late February or early March."
Lizzie nodded her head, "Late February or early March," she repeated, reaching for a legal pad and pen on the coffee table in front of the couch, "let me check my calendar and see what dates work for me. I am assuming you want it on a Saturday," she said, jotting things down.
"Yeah," Miranda said.
"Do you know how big you want the wedding?"
"Michael and I have decided to keep it pretty small, actually, with only friends and family."
Lizzie nodded her head as she wrote, "Do you have any ideas on location? Or is that still up in the air?"
"Well, we were talking about Vegas," Miranda said casually, sipping her coffee.
Lizzie looked up and stopped writing, "You're joking, right?"
Miranda cracked a smile, "What do you think?"
Lizzie smiled as well, and started writing again, "So, this gives us about four and a half months to get ready. Do you have a budget?"
"Yeah, not expensive."
Lizzie laughed, "Maybe Vegas is the way to go, then."
"Nah, flying fifty people to Vegas will add up."
"Anything else?"
"Yeah," Miranda said, with a smile forming on her lips, "guess who I ran into last night at the restaurant?"
Lizzie shrugged, putting the legal pad and pen down, "Who?"
"Gordo!" Miranda said.
Lizzie almost did a spit take, but managed to swallow the coffee before asking, "What?"
"Yeah, isn't it weird? He lives here, now, too."
"That's weird. I haven't seen him in something like two years. What does he do now?"
"He's a biochemist. He's working over at USC in the science department."
"We should go out to lunch with him sometime or something."
Miranda nodded her head, "I know. We exchanged numbers and we are probably going to do that at some point."
Lizzie nodded her head, "Is he married?"
"Nope. He's single. He doesn't really want anything serious, as he's just starting on his career."
"That's understandable."
"Yeah," Miranda said, looking at Lizzie carefully to see if their were any signs that she was interested, "I really want him in the wedding."
"You do?" Lizzie asked, surprised to hear this, "Have you talked to him about this?"
"No, because I hadn't talked to you first."
"Miranda, why would I care?" Thinking this was personal, she went on, "We dated ten years ago and we've been on good terms. Why would I care if he's in the wedding?"
"Because you're the wedding coordinator. I don't know where he'd belong," Miranda said, smiling at what her best friend said. To Miranda, that meant that Lizzie was thinking about him and their past.
Lizzie blushed a little, "Oh, right," she said, "that's a good question. Where would you put him?"
"Well, the ideal solution would to have him be the best man, as well, he is my best guy friend and it would make me happy, but Mike really wants his older brother to be in the wedding."
Lizzie nodded her head, "Well, you don't have to decide right away. Who knows what will come up as we start planning this."
Miranda nodded her head and suddenly remembered that she didn't ask about the wedding Lizzie just finished, "Oh, how was the wedding tonight?"
"Fine. Two more people out there that are going to live happily ever after are married."
"Anything interesting happen? Anyone mess up their vows or any interesting people at the reception?"
Lizzie laughed, thinking about the drunk guy at the reception, "There was this one guy there that got really drunk and started talking to me as I waited with him for a taxi."
"Oh?" Miranda said, "Was he old or young?"
"Old."
"Go on."
"He was telling me all these things and I was listening and he gave me the weirdest advice."
"What was that."
Lizzie told Miranda what he said and Miranda laughed.
"Um, are you trying to tell me something, Liz? Should I be worried about you and Michael?"
"Believe me, you have nothing to worry about," Lizzie said, getting up and putting her coffee cup in the sink, "I just thought it was sad in a way, you know?" she called from the kitchen.
"Well, he was drunk. People do say those types of things when they are drunk."
"I know, but still," Lizzie called, "I can't believe his best friend did that to him. That doesn't say a lot about their friendship. I felt sympathy for the man. He's been married three times," Lizzie came back into the room and sat back down next to Miranda.
Miranda and Lizzie talked a little longer, but soon decided that it was time to go to sleep. Lizzie and Miranda went off into their own rooms and soon fell asleep.
---
For Gordo, the day had been a lot different. He woke up to the sound of his alarm clock that Saturday at seven in the morning. He spent the next fifteen minutes trying to wake up and finally arose from bed. His new apartment was covered with boxes for the time being, as he hadn't had a chance to fully unpack and there was no motivation to unpack otherwise.
He was to start working on Monday and that day, had to stop by the campus and meet that he would be working with and tour the campus. He wasn't a member of the faculty, but he would assist students and others in the research department as well as the education department, and this meant that he would have to obtain a certain type of ID.
So, after taking a shower, shaving, and getting ready for the day, he set off for the campus at around eight. He went to grab his keys from his dresser when he saw the number Miranda gave him the night before.
"You should call them," he thought, stuffing his wallet into his pocket, "actually, you should call her," he thought, "to see how she is doing."
He picked up the paper and looked at it, trying to decide what to do, before he finally stuffed it in his pocket. He grabbed his keys and he was on his way off.
A half an hour later he was standing with several scientists with a white lab coat in the hallway of the science building of the campus. These were the people he would be working with everyday and conducting experiments with on a daily basis. This was his team.
After a tour of the entire campus and an explanation of his privileges and restrictions, they went to a meeting room to discuss the final details of the job. He would spend time in the classroom with students to accumulate hours of aiding and once he reached a certain number of hours, he could help teach classes. This sounded fine with Gordo, and he signed the necessary documents and set up his identification.
By the time he was finished with this, it was two in the afternoon and one of the other scientists, the man that offered Gordo the job, invited him to lunch in the cafeteria. Gordo accepted and the two went off to the cafeteria.
Once they were seated, the man, Dr. John Ferguson, who was in his late thirties, married, and had a doctorate in Chemistry, asked Gordo, "So, what do you think so far?"
"I have no idea what to expect," Gordo said, honestly, "It's exciting, though."
"You'll be working with a great group of people."
"That's good to know."
"Although," John started, "I do think you should call Lizzie McGuire, don't you?"
Gordo jumped a little, not believing what he was hearing, "What?" he asked, swallowing hard. How did John know that he was thinking about Lizzie?"
"I think we should start with the tetra hydrochloride on Monday. What do you think?"
"Oh," Gordo said, although he thought he was going crazy, "Right. That sounds fine with me.
A group of girls walked by and a few of them smiled at Gordo. Dr. Ferguson noticed this and laughed, "Imagine what those girls would say if they found out that you might be their teacher next year," then he looked at Gordo and raised his eyebrow, "You DO know that you aren't allowed to have any personal involvement with any of the students here at the University of Southern California, don't you?"
Gordo nodded his head, "Oh, I know. You have nothing to worry about. I'm almost twenty-eight years old. No offense, but I don't think I want to date anyone ten years younger than me."
Dr. Ferguson nodded his head, "Good to hear. Do you even have a girlfriend?"
Gordo shook his head, "Right now I'm not really looking for one. I just finished education and now with trying to start a career and everything, I don't really have that commitment."
Dr. Ferguson nodded his head, "Understandable. I just got married four years ago and no one really understood why I never started earlier. Of course, I'm not really sure if I was necessarily ready for marriage when Samantha came into my life, but I guess I realized I was in love and that I didn't have to be looking to find the person that was perfect for me."
"True," Gordo said, now regretting what he said earlier. He shrugged, "Who knows?"
By the time they were finished with lunch, Dr. Ferguson had an appointment so Gordo left the campus and headed back home. He thought about trying to call Lizzie and Miranda when he got home but decided against it, as they were probably busy. It wasn't like he was looking for something to do, as Gordo had many options, such as unpacking, researching, or working out, but Gordo didn't feel like doing any of those things.
Lately, especially in the past several months, something in the back of Gordo's mind had been bothering him. It was weird, though, especially for Gordo. He'd been thinking a lot about Lizzie recently. The strange thing about the thoughts he was having was that they didn't seem romantic as much as they seemed curious. He felt like something was telling him that he'd spent too much of the past ten years focusing on friendship and now, only because she is fairly well known in her department, he only kept up with one childhood friend. It wasn't on a personal level, either. Gordo didn't admit this to anyone, but whenever he saw a bridal magazine in a newsstand, he skimmed through it to look for Lizzie's name. He felt like he had something to hide, but he was only curious. The night before when he saw Miranda, though, he took it as a sign that maybe his old friendships weren't closed, after all. Especially after having all these thoughts about Lizzie, he decided he would make an effort to renew his friendships with the only two real girl friends he ever had.
Gordo went back to his department and turned on the TV, emptying the contents out of his pockets and placing them on the table beside him. This proved to be a distraction, however, as he kept looking at the number Miranda gave him as it stared back at him.
"I really should call them," Gordo thought, "The sooner I do it, the sooner I get it over with."
Gordo looked back and forth from the News to the number and was concentrating on the number more than he was on the news of a burglary, and he couldn't take it anymore. He picked up his cell phone, grabbed the number and dialed the number. He stare on it on his cell phone before finally pushing, "send." He held the phone to his ear and listend as it rang.
Ring
Ring
Ring
Ring
Ring
The answering machine picked up and Gordo heard Miranda's voice, "Hi! This is Miranda and Lizzie and we're not home right now so leave a message and we'll get back to you as soon as we can! Have a nice day!"
Gordo didn't even wait for the beep before he decided to press the "end" button on his phone. Of course they were out. It was a Saturday afternoon. Miranda was probably busy with her restaurant and Lizzie was probably busy with some wedding to plan. Here Gordo was, who for the past ten years of his life was too busy to so much as pick up the phone and call his best friends, and now sat there with nothing to do, well, nothing he had to do.
He tapped his fingers, realizing that he needed to feel busy. That way, he won't feel so pathetic. He got up and looked at the newspaper on the counter. He opened it up, thinking there had to be something interesting going on tonight. As a first instinct, he went to the science section in the entertainment section, "Lecture on Psychology of Adult Males," and "Seminar of the Physics of Sound," were the only things offered. As soon as he realized what he was reading, though, Gordo closed the paper with a look of disgust on his face.
What the hell was he doing? Sure, he was a scientist, but his Saturday evening was not supposed to be involved around seminars and lectures. He shook it off and opened the paper back up, and looking at concerts. Wow, he hadn't been to a concert in a long time. Maybe this was his chance to meet new people and do something with his Saturday. He called and ordered a ticket for the rock concert being held at the Staples Center. He thought about calling someone to go with him but then decided it wasn't worth the haste and besides, when it was over, he could go straight home and get some sleep.
He got ready to go to the concert…alone and grabbed a quick bite to eat before heading to the Staples Center and as he pulled into his parking spot, he sighed. This was sad, him going to a concert by himself. He decided that he needed some friends to do this with.
He got out of his car and went with the crowd walking to the arena and realized the worst part of this sadness…he was surrounded by groups of teenage girls and guys. He picked up his ticket and went to his seat. He was able to get a pretty good seat. A half an hour later the arena was full and he was sitting in between a group of middle school boys and three high school girls. The boys couldn't have cared less about Gordo but the girls, on the other hand, kept looking at him and whispering to each other. Suddenly, Gordo found himself feeling very insecure. He finally decided to say something, anything, to make his being at this concert more justifiable, "I am writing a paper on the physics of sound," he said, thinking quickly.
The girls didn't care, though, and Gordo knew that before he opened his mouth, "Oh," the girl sitting next to him said, "that's interesting. Where do you go to school?"
Oh right, Gordo thought, you have to go to school to write papers, "USC," he said, thinking it was a big campus. He'd probably never see them again.
"Oh, I'm looking there for college. What are you majoring in?" the middle one asked.
Oh, great, Gordo thought, he had opened up a can of worms, "Um, physics."
The girl nodded and Gordo thought that it would be the end of their conversation, however, he wasn't so lucky, "What year are you?" the girl farthest away from him asked.
Yeah, he'd told a lie and now had to go with it, "Senior," he said, thinking it was the highest level and that he could fall for a twenty-two year old male.
"Ah, so you're graduating soon. Cool," the one next to him said, "I'm Jessica," she held out her hand, "these are my two friends, Kate and Sarah."
Gordo nodded as he shook their hands, "Nice to meet you. I'm…" he thought about this for a minute. He wasn't supposed to be a doctor and he didn't want them to call him Gordo, either, "I'm David," he said.
Jessica smiled, "So, do you usually go to concerts by yourself or is this like a one-time thing?"
Gordo thought that was a rather odd question for someone to ask. He couldn't decide if these girls were flirting with him or just being nice, though, as he wasn't good with this department and they were a decade younger than him. Maybe, he thought just to be safe, he should make his life more interesting and create a girlfriend, "No, usually I go with my girlfriend. She couldn't come, though, so I only bought one ticket."
The girls nodded their head. They seemed to back off a little bit once they learned he had a girlfriend, but they kept asking questions. The band was running late, so to pass time, he talked with them. It was kind of fun creating an alternate life for himself. He had a chance to make himself more interesting to people he would never see again. He told them about his hobbies, where he'd been, and all these other things that he knew weren't true, but that didn't matter. He was having a little harmless fun with them. That being said, though, he was anxious for the concert to start.
After what seemed like hours of talking to these girls, the concert finally started with the opening act. It dawned on Gordo that for someone who was supposed to be writing a paper, he didn't look like he was writing a paper. How does one look like they are working on a paper for the physics of sound, anyway? He took out his palm pilot and turned it on to open a new document. At least that way, he thought, he'd look authentic if the girls looked at him. He played around with the document, writing random letters and basically doodling.
Finally, the band came on, yet Gordo was too busy doodling to notice that everyone around him was standing up. He was only vaguely aware of what he was writing, so when he looked down at what he saw, it was almost haunting. Apparently, Gordo had written, "I really should call Lizzie and Miranda. Leave a message. I should call tomorrow." Whoa, Gordo thought. He didn't even realize he was thinking about Lizzie and Miranda. He quickly erased what he had written and that was when he realized that everyone around him was standing up. What the hell was he doing? He stood up and watched the band play, and found himself getting into the music. He forgot about the fact that he was supposed to be writing a paper as he let his thoughts drift with the music. What would it be like to be friends with Miranda and Lizzie again? To be so close to contact yet so far away from their reality was strenuous but the music made it a little easier to focus on his thoughts. The concert ended before he knew it and he left the same guy he came into the Staples Center, and as he walked to his car, he thought some more. It was nice to be able to think without having to having to come to a conclusion in the process or having to share thoughts with other people.
Gordo drove home in silence and decided that once he did make that call, he would make an effort to keep in contact with his friends, especially now that they lived in the same city. He no longer had to spend most of his time in books and was sad to say that with leaving school, he also left his friends behind in some respect. Not that he had too many friends, as his life focused mainly on getting his degree for the past ten years, but change is not easy and if one adjusts to a certain life and then leaves, one finds it hard not to leave that place room in his heart. It was weird and he knew it was weird, but he was completely school free for the first time in twenty-six years and figured he had a right to feel this way and was sorry to say that he could justify these feelings in biochemistry terminology.
When he got back into his apartment, he went to bed almost immediately. He didn't even let himself think, as he knew that if he thought too much, he'd talk himself out of calling them again. To see Miranda the night before meant a lot to him. He knew that seeing her again along with Lizzie would mean the world.
---
To Be Continued. Please Review!
As for this chapter, this is the last set-up chapter of everything, but I want you to get an idea of what the atmosphere for what the characters are like before they meet up.
I do not own Lizzie McGuire.
Chapter Two
Ordinary Day
The next morning, when Lizzie got up, no one was there, but she did find a note left by Miranda explaining that she was out for breakfast. Lizzie ate breakfast and then started to get ready for the day with taking a shower, getting dressed and looking at her schedule. She had a wedding to attend and she had to be there at four, but other than that, she only had two appointments- a possible new client, and looking at a location out at Disneyland. Personally, Lizzie wanted nothing more than to throw cake at the bride's face when a suggestion like a theme park was made as a wedding choice. As a coordinator, she couldn't count the number of times people wanted to get married in some random place, like a zoo or a theme park, and how much of a hassle it was to work everything out.
In fact, in Lizzie's opinion, the only place worse than a theme park was Las Vegas. What was up with that place, anyway? The city is tacky, despite the entertainment, the wedding already spells, "It won't last!" Also, and Lizzie always held her tongue on saying this, but to hire a wedding coordinator and go off to Vegas without knowing anyone there as family is giving the wedding coordinator free money.
After she was ready, she headed for her office to deal with the day. Saturdays were always hectic for Lizzie, as someone was usually getting married and also, it was a time where both halves of a couple could spent time in the day together and therefore, when there wasn't a wedding, there was demand for her to spot locations, pick out floral arrangements, look for entertainment for the reception, and sometimes become the mediator for small arguments between the future happy couple. Despite all this, however, and disregarding a couple of the celebrity weddings she helped with, every wedding story she was involved with (other than her own, of course) had a happy ending and not one of her clients, again, pulling aside a few of the celebrity crowd, had gotten a divorce.
Part of that might have to do with the fact that she was picky with who she helped, especially now that she could afford to be picky. She had quite a large sum of money in her bank account and rarely pulled any of the money out of it. She had her reasons, though, and they weren't as some oblivious people asked, for her future, lavishly decorated exotic wedding. No, but she never willingly talked about her relationships, either.
She was saving up for something, in her opinion, more spectacular than any wedding. She had dreams of starting a charity and building a house for the charity when she had the chance. The reason for the charity was driven from her experiences with clients and the purpose would be to help people with less money fulfill their idea of a dream wedding without having them spend too much money. She wanted everyone to feel special on what is supposed to be the happiest day of someone's life and she felt that if she could so this among other smaller projects within the charity, she could die happily.
A few minutes after she arrived, the possible new clients arrived. Both looked to be in their early thirties and the woman, as usual, looked much happier to be there than the man. Apparently, they had flown in all the way from Indiana (although, Lizzie had experienced further distances) to pursue the chance to have, what the woman called, "their dream wedding," although Lizzie had a feeling that this dream mainly belonged to the woman.
After spending enough time with them to get to know them, Lizzie decided that the couple was worth her time, as they looked happy together and that was her number one reason to agree to any wedding.
An hour after they left and set up more information, such as when Lizzie should come to Indiana and their next appointment (the next day), Lizzie had to pick up an early lunch and headed out to Disneyland. She was going to meet the couple there, and they arrived right as she arrived and they joined up and looked around the park. Lizzie went along with whatever they said, as they analyzed the idea of a theme park wedding and didn't say much, although after two hours of looking around and discussing it, Lizzie had to admit that she wasn't disappointed when they decided to try and look some place. Lizzie told them she would e-mail them a list of places to consider by Monday and they went their separate ways.
Now, it was time for Lizzie to head all the way to the Hilton hotel in Los Angeles for the wedding that started at six-thirty. When she got there, her assistant, Wendy, was there overseeing the reception set up that had a stage, numerous tables, and a dance floor. Lizzie oversaw this until she got a call on her cell phone—surprise, surprise, it was Miranda.
"Lizzie! I've been trying to reach you all day! Where have you been?"
Lizzie rolled her eyes, "Miranda, it's Saturday! What do you think I'm doing? I was in a meeting, and then I went to Disneyland to look at a location. What do you want?"
"I want to talk to you, that's all," Miranda said, "What time do you think you'll be getting home?"
"Around midnight," Lizzie guessed, "Why?"
"Because," Miranda said, "Michael and I came up with a few ideas and there is something I'm dying to talk to you about."
Lizzie sighed and rolled her eyes, "Well, can you tell me now?"
"No! It's something I need to tell you in person."
"Okay, well, if I don't see you later tonight, I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Fine. Have fun at the wedding."
"Thanks. Have fun at the restaurant."
Lizzie hung up and went back to focusing on the wedding that would start in a little over an hour. The bride and groom arrived as guests did as well and the evening went well. The couple got married, had a reception and left for their honeymoon suite. The other guests left and the last person there, a drunk older man, had to be approached by Lizzie, "Excuse me, sir?" she said, tapping his shoulder.
The man looked at Lizzie with his watery eyes and took another sip of whatever he was drinking, "Oh, hey," he said, reaching his arm out and placing it on her shoulder, "You know, my ex-wife's nephew got married today."
Lizzie nodded her head. She was used to people like this. She started to walk him out of the room, and calling him a taxi.
Once they were outside, the man let go of Lizzie and looked her over, "You're very attractive, young lady. What's your name?"
"Lizzie," she said, sitting down on the bench.
"Lizzie?" he repeated in his drunken state, "You know, I grew up with a girl named Lizzie. She had blond hair just like you. Or was it brown?" he hiccupped, "Anyway, she moved away to Missouri or Kentucky or one of those states out east and I never saw her again. She was nice, though."
Lizzie smiled and nodded her head, but didn't say anything.
"You know who you remind me of?"
Lizzie shook her head, "No. Who?"
The man put his finger up, "My second ex -wife. I was married three times, you know."
Lizzie still said nothing, although she always felt a slight amount of relief and happiness to hear about other people's failed relationships. It always reassured her that she wasn't alone.
"She had blonde hair just like you and was pretty, very pretty."
"What happened to her?"
"Oh, she ran off with my best friend. That was over twenty years ago, though."
Lizzie smiled sadly as she felt certain sympathy for this man, "I'm sorry to hear that."
The man waved his arm, "Sorry! Everyone's sorry and why are they sorry?" he shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands, "Why should anyone be sorry? I learned from it all. May I give you some advice, miss?"
Lizzie nodded her head.
"When you love someone, and I mean really love someone," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder, "imagine that person with your best friend. That way, you won't be so disappointed when you come to find that they've been seeing each other," the man nodded his head, "In fact, save time and be your own best friend. Think about it. It works."
Lizzie nodded her head. It was one of the strangest things anyone had ever said to her, and before she could hear any more of this man's witty advice, the taxi arrived and he was gone. The last guest of the wedding had left and Lizzie went back inside and almost all the decorations were gone. Soon, it was time to go home.
Lizzie drove home and she saw that right as she was parking her car, Miranda was coming home as well, "Perfect timing," Miranda said, as she got out of Michael's car, "Bye, Michael! I'll see you tomorrow! I love you!"
Miranda and Lizzie walked up to their apartment and Miranda put on some coffee and both of them went to put on their pajamas. It was almost two o'clock in the morning, but neither of the best friends was tired as they say down in their living room with their coffee and started talking.
"So," Lizzie said, curling up on one side of the couch and leaning against the arm as she sipped her coffee, "What do you want to talk about."
"Well," Miranda said, "First of all, Michael and I were planning on having a wedding next year around late February or early March."
Lizzie nodded her head, "Late February or early March," she repeated, reaching for a legal pad and pen on the coffee table in front of the couch, "let me check my calendar and see what dates work for me. I am assuming you want it on a Saturday," she said, jotting things down.
"Yeah," Miranda said.
"Do you know how big you want the wedding?"
"Michael and I have decided to keep it pretty small, actually, with only friends and family."
Lizzie nodded her head as she wrote, "Do you have any ideas on location? Or is that still up in the air?"
"Well, we were talking about Vegas," Miranda said casually, sipping her coffee.
Lizzie looked up and stopped writing, "You're joking, right?"
Miranda cracked a smile, "What do you think?"
Lizzie smiled as well, and started writing again, "So, this gives us about four and a half months to get ready. Do you have a budget?"
"Yeah, not expensive."
Lizzie laughed, "Maybe Vegas is the way to go, then."
"Nah, flying fifty people to Vegas will add up."
"Anything else?"
"Yeah," Miranda said, with a smile forming on her lips, "guess who I ran into last night at the restaurant?"
Lizzie shrugged, putting the legal pad and pen down, "Who?"
"Gordo!" Miranda said.
Lizzie almost did a spit take, but managed to swallow the coffee before asking, "What?"
"Yeah, isn't it weird? He lives here, now, too."
"That's weird. I haven't seen him in something like two years. What does he do now?"
"He's a biochemist. He's working over at USC in the science department."
"We should go out to lunch with him sometime or something."
Miranda nodded her head, "I know. We exchanged numbers and we are probably going to do that at some point."
Lizzie nodded her head, "Is he married?"
"Nope. He's single. He doesn't really want anything serious, as he's just starting on his career."
"That's understandable."
"Yeah," Miranda said, looking at Lizzie carefully to see if their were any signs that she was interested, "I really want him in the wedding."
"You do?" Lizzie asked, surprised to hear this, "Have you talked to him about this?"
"No, because I hadn't talked to you first."
"Miranda, why would I care?" Thinking this was personal, she went on, "We dated ten years ago and we've been on good terms. Why would I care if he's in the wedding?"
"Because you're the wedding coordinator. I don't know where he'd belong," Miranda said, smiling at what her best friend said. To Miranda, that meant that Lizzie was thinking about him and their past.
Lizzie blushed a little, "Oh, right," she said, "that's a good question. Where would you put him?"
"Well, the ideal solution would to have him be the best man, as well, he is my best guy friend and it would make me happy, but Mike really wants his older brother to be in the wedding."
Lizzie nodded her head, "Well, you don't have to decide right away. Who knows what will come up as we start planning this."
Miranda nodded her head and suddenly remembered that she didn't ask about the wedding Lizzie just finished, "Oh, how was the wedding tonight?"
"Fine. Two more people out there that are going to live happily ever after are married."
"Anything interesting happen? Anyone mess up their vows or any interesting people at the reception?"
Lizzie laughed, thinking about the drunk guy at the reception, "There was this one guy there that got really drunk and started talking to me as I waited with him for a taxi."
"Oh?" Miranda said, "Was he old or young?"
"Old."
"Go on."
"He was telling me all these things and I was listening and he gave me the weirdest advice."
"What was that."
Lizzie told Miranda what he said and Miranda laughed.
"Um, are you trying to tell me something, Liz? Should I be worried about you and Michael?"
"Believe me, you have nothing to worry about," Lizzie said, getting up and putting her coffee cup in the sink, "I just thought it was sad in a way, you know?" she called from the kitchen.
"Well, he was drunk. People do say those types of things when they are drunk."
"I know, but still," Lizzie called, "I can't believe his best friend did that to him. That doesn't say a lot about their friendship. I felt sympathy for the man. He's been married three times," Lizzie came back into the room and sat back down next to Miranda.
Miranda and Lizzie talked a little longer, but soon decided that it was time to go to sleep. Lizzie and Miranda went off into their own rooms and soon fell asleep.
---
For Gordo, the day had been a lot different. He woke up to the sound of his alarm clock that Saturday at seven in the morning. He spent the next fifteen minutes trying to wake up and finally arose from bed. His new apartment was covered with boxes for the time being, as he hadn't had a chance to fully unpack and there was no motivation to unpack otherwise.
He was to start working on Monday and that day, had to stop by the campus and meet that he would be working with and tour the campus. He wasn't a member of the faculty, but he would assist students and others in the research department as well as the education department, and this meant that he would have to obtain a certain type of ID.
So, after taking a shower, shaving, and getting ready for the day, he set off for the campus at around eight. He went to grab his keys from his dresser when he saw the number Miranda gave him the night before.
"You should call them," he thought, stuffing his wallet into his pocket, "actually, you should call her," he thought, "to see how she is doing."
He picked up the paper and looked at it, trying to decide what to do, before he finally stuffed it in his pocket. He grabbed his keys and he was on his way off.
A half an hour later he was standing with several scientists with a white lab coat in the hallway of the science building of the campus. These were the people he would be working with everyday and conducting experiments with on a daily basis. This was his team.
After a tour of the entire campus and an explanation of his privileges and restrictions, they went to a meeting room to discuss the final details of the job. He would spend time in the classroom with students to accumulate hours of aiding and once he reached a certain number of hours, he could help teach classes. This sounded fine with Gordo, and he signed the necessary documents and set up his identification.
By the time he was finished with this, it was two in the afternoon and one of the other scientists, the man that offered Gordo the job, invited him to lunch in the cafeteria. Gordo accepted and the two went off to the cafeteria.
Once they were seated, the man, Dr. John Ferguson, who was in his late thirties, married, and had a doctorate in Chemistry, asked Gordo, "So, what do you think so far?"
"I have no idea what to expect," Gordo said, honestly, "It's exciting, though."
"You'll be working with a great group of people."
"That's good to know."
"Although," John started, "I do think you should call Lizzie McGuire, don't you?"
Gordo jumped a little, not believing what he was hearing, "What?" he asked, swallowing hard. How did John know that he was thinking about Lizzie?"
"I think we should start with the tetra hydrochloride on Monday. What do you think?"
"Oh," Gordo said, although he thought he was going crazy, "Right. That sounds fine with me.
A group of girls walked by and a few of them smiled at Gordo. Dr. Ferguson noticed this and laughed, "Imagine what those girls would say if they found out that you might be their teacher next year," then he looked at Gordo and raised his eyebrow, "You DO know that you aren't allowed to have any personal involvement with any of the students here at the University of Southern California, don't you?"
Gordo nodded his head, "Oh, I know. You have nothing to worry about. I'm almost twenty-eight years old. No offense, but I don't think I want to date anyone ten years younger than me."
Dr. Ferguson nodded his head, "Good to hear. Do you even have a girlfriend?"
Gordo shook his head, "Right now I'm not really looking for one. I just finished education and now with trying to start a career and everything, I don't really have that commitment."
Dr. Ferguson nodded his head, "Understandable. I just got married four years ago and no one really understood why I never started earlier. Of course, I'm not really sure if I was necessarily ready for marriage when Samantha came into my life, but I guess I realized I was in love and that I didn't have to be looking to find the person that was perfect for me."
"True," Gordo said, now regretting what he said earlier. He shrugged, "Who knows?"
By the time they were finished with lunch, Dr. Ferguson had an appointment so Gordo left the campus and headed back home. He thought about trying to call Lizzie and Miranda when he got home but decided against it, as they were probably busy. It wasn't like he was looking for something to do, as Gordo had many options, such as unpacking, researching, or working out, but Gordo didn't feel like doing any of those things.
Lately, especially in the past several months, something in the back of Gordo's mind had been bothering him. It was weird, though, especially for Gordo. He'd been thinking a lot about Lizzie recently. The strange thing about the thoughts he was having was that they didn't seem romantic as much as they seemed curious. He felt like something was telling him that he'd spent too much of the past ten years focusing on friendship and now, only because she is fairly well known in her department, he only kept up with one childhood friend. It wasn't on a personal level, either. Gordo didn't admit this to anyone, but whenever he saw a bridal magazine in a newsstand, he skimmed through it to look for Lizzie's name. He felt like he had something to hide, but he was only curious. The night before when he saw Miranda, though, he took it as a sign that maybe his old friendships weren't closed, after all. Especially after having all these thoughts about Lizzie, he decided he would make an effort to renew his friendships with the only two real girl friends he ever had.
Gordo went back to his department and turned on the TV, emptying the contents out of his pockets and placing them on the table beside him. This proved to be a distraction, however, as he kept looking at the number Miranda gave him as it stared back at him.
"I really should call them," Gordo thought, "The sooner I do it, the sooner I get it over with."
Gordo looked back and forth from the News to the number and was concentrating on the number more than he was on the news of a burglary, and he couldn't take it anymore. He picked up his cell phone, grabbed the number and dialed the number. He stare on it on his cell phone before finally pushing, "send." He held the phone to his ear and listend as it rang.
Ring
Ring
Ring
Ring
Ring
The answering machine picked up and Gordo heard Miranda's voice, "Hi! This is Miranda and Lizzie and we're not home right now so leave a message and we'll get back to you as soon as we can! Have a nice day!"
Gordo didn't even wait for the beep before he decided to press the "end" button on his phone. Of course they were out. It was a Saturday afternoon. Miranda was probably busy with her restaurant and Lizzie was probably busy with some wedding to plan. Here Gordo was, who for the past ten years of his life was too busy to so much as pick up the phone and call his best friends, and now sat there with nothing to do, well, nothing he had to do.
He tapped his fingers, realizing that he needed to feel busy. That way, he won't feel so pathetic. He got up and looked at the newspaper on the counter. He opened it up, thinking there had to be something interesting going on tonight. As a first instinct, he went to the science section in the entertainment section, "Lecture on Psychology of Adult Males," and "Seminar of the Physics of Sound," were the only things offered. As soon as he realized what he was reading, though, Gordo closed the paper with a look of disgust on his face.
What the hell was he doing? Sure, he was a scientist, but his Saturday evening was not supposed to be involved around seminars and lectures. He shook it off and opened the paper back up, and looking at concerts. Wow, he hadn't been to a concert in a long time. Maybe this was his chance to meet new people and do something with his Saturday. He called and ordered a ticket for the rock concert being held at the Staples Center. He thought about calling someone to go with him but then decided it wasn't worth the haste and besides, when it was over, he could go straight home and get some sleep.
He got ready to go to the concert…alone and grabbed a quick bite to eat before heading to the Staples Center and as he pulled into his parking spot, he sighed. This was sad, him going to a concert by himself. He decided that he needed some friends to do this with.
He got out of his car and went with the crowd walking to the arena and realized the worst part of this sadness…he was surrounded by groups of teenage girls and guys. He picked up his ticket and went to his seat. He was able to get a pretty good seat. A half an hour later the arena was full and he was sitting in between a group of middle school boys and three high school girls. The boys couldn't have cared less about Gordo but the girls, on the other hand, kept looking at him and whispering to each other. Suddenly, Gordo found himself feeling very insecure. He finally decided to say something, anything, to make his being at this concert more justifiable, "I am writing a paper on the physics of sound," he said, thinking quickly.
The girls didn't care, though, and Gordo knew that before he opened his mouth, "Oh," the girl sitting next to him said, "that's interesting. Where do you go to school?"
Oh right, Gordo thought, you have to go to school to write papers, "USC," he said, thinking it was a big campus. He'd probably never see them again.
"Oh, I'm looking there for college. What are you majoring in?" the middle one asked.
Oh, great, Gordo thought, he had opened up a can of worms, "Um, physics."
The girl nodded and Gordo thought that it would be the end of their conversation, however, he wasn't so lucky, "What year are you?" the girl farthest away from him asked.
Yeah, he'd told a lie and now had to go with it, "Senior," he said, thinking it was the highest level and that he could fall for a twenty-two year old male.
"Ah, so you're graduating soon. Cool," the one next to him said, "I'm Jessica," she held out her hand, "these are my two friends, Kate and Sarah."
Gordo nodded as he shook their hands, "Nice to meet you. I'm…" he thought about this for a minute. He wasn't supposed to be a doctor and he didn't want them to call him Gordo, either, "I'm David," he said.
Jessica smiled, "So, do you usually go to concerts by yourself or is this like a one-time thing?"
Gordo thought that was a rather odd question for someone to ask. He couldn't decide if these girls were flirting with him or just being nice, though, as he wasn't good with this department and they were a decade younger than him. Maybe, he thought just to be safe, he should make his life more interesting and create a girlfriend, "No, usually I go with my girlfriend. She couldn't come, though, so I only bought one ticket."
The girls nodded their head. They seemed to back off a little bit once they learned he had a girlfriend, but they kept asking questions. The band was running late, so to pass time, he talked with them. It was kind of fun creating an alternate life for himself. He had a chance to make himself more interesting to people he would never see again. He told them about his hobbies, where he'd been, and all these other things that he knew weren't true, but that didn't matter. He was having a little harmless fun with them. That being said, though, he was anxious for the concert to start.
After what seemed like hours of talking to these girls, the concert finally started with the opening act. It dawned on Gordo that for someone who was supposed to be writing a paper, he didn't look like he was writing a paper. How does one look like they are working on a paper for the physics of sound, anyway? He took out his palm pilot and turned it on to open a new document. At least that way, he thought, he'd look authentic if the girls looked at him. He played around with the document, writing random letters and basically doodling.
Finally, the band came on, yet Gordo was too busy doodling to notice that everyone around him was standing up. He was only vaguely aware of what he was writing, so when he looked down at what he saw, it was almost haunting. Apparently, Gordo had written, "I really should call Lizzie and Miranda. Leave a message. I should call tomorrow." Whoa, Gordo thought. He didn't even realize he was thinking about Lizzie and Miranda. He quickly erased what he had written and that was when he realized that everyone around him was standing up. What the hell was he doing? He stood up and watched the band play, and found himself getting into the music. He forgot about the fact that he was supposed to be writing a paper as he let his thoughts drift with the music. What would it be like to be friends with Miranda and Lizzie again? To be so close to contact yet so far away from their reality was strenuous but the music made it a little easier to focus on his thoughts. The concert ended before he knew it and he left the same guy he came into the Staples Center, and as he walked to his car, he thought some more. It was nice to be able to think without having to having to come to a conclusion in the process or having to share thoughts with other people.
Gordo drove home in silence and decided that once he did make that call, he would make an effort to keep in contact with his friends, especially now that they lived in the same city. He no longer had to spend most of his time in books and was sad to say that with leaving school, he also left his friends behind in some respect. Not that he had too many friends, as his life focused mainly on getting his degree for the past ten years, but change is not easy and if one adjusts to a certain life and then leaves, one finds it hard not to leave that place room in his heart. It was weird and he knew it was weird, but he was completely school free for the first time in twenty-six years and figured he had a right to feel this way and was sorry to say that he could justify these feelings in biochemistry terminology.
When he got back into his apartment, he went to bed almost immediately. He didn't even let himself think, as he knew that if he thought too much, he'd talk himself out of calling them again. To see Miranda the night before meant a lot to him. He knew that seeing her again along with Lizzie would mean the world.
---
To Be Continued. Please Review!
