These two Lizzie chapters were originally supposed to be only one chapter, but it got so long, I thought I'd split it up. First person Lizzie is a lot of fun to write, by the way! I love her "voice" and I hope it sounds authentic!

Another week went by and things went from bad to worse when Mom decided to arrange a going away party for Gordo and Miranda.

Gordo was going to school in Berkeley, of course, and Miranda would be leaving shortly for the University of New Mexico. I guess Mom got nostalgic and thought it would be nice to have them both over with their parents for a big dinner party to remember how swell everything had been between us all so many years ago. So that's what happened that particular Saturday afternoon.

I was not all that enthused. First, Mom would not let me invite Josh. Second, I didn't really want to spend time with Gordo. It was bad enough I had to see him as much as I did. The only bright spot was that I would get to see Miranda. We didn't really hang out so much any more. Nothing bad had happened between us (like it did between me and Gordo), but we had just sort of drifted apart through high school. Still, it would be nice to see her and talk with her and give her a proper sendoff.

Some of the Sanchez' relatives lived in New Mexico, and Miranda would be staying with them while she went to college. So in honor of her Mexican relatives in the great state of New Mexico, Mom decided to prepare Mexican food for the party. I'm sure the fact that Mexican food was Gordo's favorite also entered into this decision somehow.

Anyway, they all came over, Miranda with her parents Edward and Daniela, and Gordo with his parents, Howard and Roberta. Dad was even here for this one, and it was actually kind of nice to see all the moms and dads together again after so many years.

And it was great to have Miranda over the house again. Of course, she had no problem with Gordo, even though she knew I did, so there was some awkwardness at first as the three of us sat around, talking a little, trying to pretend (for our parents' sake, at least) that nothing had ever happened, that we were still the best of friends.

It was kind of sad, actually, because at one point we really had been the best of friends. Who could tell it would ever end up like this, all three of us going off in different directions, maybe never going to see each other again, or maybe only briefly when we came back home to visit our parents? I was really feeling the sadness, and I think Miranda and Gordo were too.

But this was supposed to be a party! And the good part about a party is that there is usually the opportunity to have a drink. The Sanchez's had brought a huge bottle of Sangria, and the Gordon's provided a bottle of rum and a twelve pack of coke. Our parents started drinking first, so that by the time Miranda, Gordo and I decided to sneak some rum in our sodas, if only to break the tension a little, the old folks were already slightly wasted and either didn't realize what we were doing or didn't care.

Thanks God Hawkboy was at a friend's house that night! He didn't see anybody drinking, and he didn't see what happened afterwards.

Since I hadn't really been talking to Miranda much, she had no idea what was happening in my house lately, and I didn't tell her. I wanted to see if she would pick up on the fact that there was something weird going on between Gordo and my mom. I was also curious to see how Gordo and Mom were going to behave with my dad and Gordo's parents right there.

I don't know. Maybe I was being paranoid. Was I the only one who noticed that Mom kept giving Gordo all these little smiles, and that he kept looking at her boobs? Ugh! And was I the only one who realized that when Gordo went into the kitchen for more soda, offering to refresh the drink of anyone else who needed it, that he knew exactly how my mom liked her Sangria, with a shot of club soda on top, and a slice of orange and lemon, but not a slice of lime? How did he know this? Oh, God! Had they been drinking together before tonight? I was freaking out.

And then the rum started to kick in, and I didn't feel as freaked out as before. We all sat down to eat, and I was ravenously hungry, and I actually began to feel pretty good. We were all pretty loosened up by now, and as we ate we began to talk more and more, remembering all kinds of things that had happened when we were kids, telling all kinds of stories, and laughing an awful lot.

The evening actually turned out to be quite a bit of fun, considering how it had started out. I'm not saying I forgave Gordo for what he had done to me in tenth grade, but at the moment it just didn't seem to matter so much. And as I looked at him across the table, through a haze of rum, I couldn't help noting again how really cute he looked now that he was all growed-up…

It got pretty late. It was dark outside, and we were still sitting around the table, all laughing, but not as hysterically as before. Most of the food was gone, and any that was left on the table would probably have to be thrown out. The alcohol had pretty much worn off by this time, but the party spirit had not, at least not for most of us. Mom offered to make coffee, but Roberta Gordon said, "Forget coffee! Let's go dancing!"

Apparently the Gordons had taken some dance lessons at the community center, and they thought this would be a fabulous opportunity to show off what they had learned. The Sanchez's were in full agreement with this plan.

Mom was into it too, but Dad, though polite, was clearly reluctant. He never was much of a dancer, I knew. Was that the real reason, though? Or was it, as he finally said, because he had an early meeting in the morning?

"A meeting in the morning?" Howard Gordon asked. "What kind of meeting takes place on a Sunday morning?"

"A golf date with an important client," Dad explained.

"All the more reason to go!" Howard reasoned. "If you stay out late tonight, your golf game tomorrow will be impaired, the client will win, and you'll get the account!"

The other adults there tried to convince him, but it soon became apparent he was not going, no way, no how. I could see my mom getting annoyed, biting her lip, holding her tongue. She really wanted to go dancing, I could tell. Oh God! I just hoped she wouldn't get the idea to take Gordo as her dance partner instead!

The gentle persuasions went on for as long as was socially acceptable, then at last Mom broke the tension by saying, "Well, you can see he's not going to budge. But don't let us hold you back. Please! Go out and have a good time!"

"You don't mind, Jo?"

"Of course not!" she lied enthusiastically. "Go ahead! We'll get a chance to do it again sometime. When Sam is more available. You give a call next time you go, and I'll see if I can't convince this old stick-in-the-mud to come out and have a little fun." She said this as if it was a big joke, but I could tell that underneath she was about to crack with resentment.

The Gordons and the Sanchez's took a while to actually make it out the front door, and as soon as they did, I felt the tension in the house rise dramatically. Miranda and Gordo were nearby, and I knew they could feel it too.

Miranda said, "Should we go upstairs?" but Gordo said quietly, "We should help clean up first." I know he was thinking about my mom. It wouldn't really be right to leave her with all the cleanup, so we three began to quietly clear the table.

And as we did, my parents, who were also clearing the table, began a reserved, civil conversation about dancing, and golf, and work responsibilities, and social responsibilities, and when was the last time they had been out dancing, anyway? Dad said "You know I don't like to dance."

Mom said, "Well, Sam. What do you like to do?"

He thought for a moment, then said, "I like to bowl."

"You know I don't like to bowl," Mom said. "The damn ball is too heavy."

"Well, I like golf," Dad said.

"Only because your clients like golf!" Mom retorted. "You never liked golf before you took this stupid job!"

"Hey!" Dad said, defensively. "This stupid job put this food on the table!"

And now they were at it, having come to the crux of the matter. The stupid job, that was more important than anything else in the world. The reason why he was never home anymore. Why he barely knew his kids any more. And why they had only had sex three times in the last six months.

I covered my face with my hands. Oh man! How embarrassing. Miranda, Gordo and I had stopped clearing and were standing around stupidly in the dining room, listening to all this. Miranda's eyes were bugging out of her head, but Gordo looked completely agitated, ready to leap to my mom's defense. That probably wouldn't be necessary, because she could hold her own pretty good in a fight. But Gordo was ready to fight my dad, if need be. I could hear him breathing, even over all the yelling and screaming that was going on in the kitchen.

I don't really remember what else was said after the sex comment. My mind just instinctively blocked out any further details, I guess. But I do know it got worse and worse until finally they were both screaming "Fuck you!" which I don't think I had ever heard either of my parents say before, and then Dad stormed out the front door and Mom ran through the open patio doors on to the back porch.

Miranda looked at me. "Lizzie…" she said uncomfortably.

"Let's go to my room," I said.

Miranda and I bounded up the stairs. Gordo did not follow. I didn't expect him to follow. I knew where he would go, and he was probably there before Miranda and I even reached the upstairs landing.

-

It was so good to have Miranda here at a time like this. I had other friends, new friends, but nobody I could talk to the way I had always talked to her. She knew my family. She knew how serious this was. She wouldn't just blow it off with "Yeah, well, parents are like that sometimes." I told her everything about how tense it had been in our house since Dad took that new job. She said it sounded like he was going through a mid-life crisis.

I said, "Yeah, well, Mom's going through her own little midlife crisis, too."

Suddenly Miranda looked around the room and said, "Hey! Where's Gordo?"

"Exactly," I sighed heavily. "He's her mid-life crisis."

It took a while for me to explain this to her, and even when I thought she understood, she still seemed incredulous.

"Are you telling me that Gordo and your mom are going out together?"

"No," I said impatiently. "I said they were hanging out together."

"And what's the difference?" Miranda questioned.

"I'm not really sure," I said, lying back on the bed, still feeling the remnants of rum in my body. "I think the difference is that they're always here at the house, they don't go out in public together. Thank God they don't go out in public together! Could you imagine how embarrassing that would be?"

"But, Lizzie," Miranda reasoned. "If your dad is never home, and Gordo's always here, and there's nobody to keep an eye on them, how do you know they're not…?"

"ICK!" I exclaimed. "Miranda! How can you even say something like that?"

"Well, you're thinking it, aren't you? I'm just saying what you're already thinking."

"I'm not thinking it!" I insisted.

"Then you wouldn't be afraid to go downstairs and check up on your mom? You should really go check up on her," Miranda said.

"She doesn't need me," I sighed. "She has Gordo now."

"That's right," Miranda said. "She has Gordo. He can take care of her. You know she's in good hands. You don't need to check up on her. She's in good hands."

For some stupid reason I couldn't stop myself from suddenly remembering where Gordo's hands had been that day when the ocean dipped, momentarily revealing a below-the-waist view of him and Parker McKenzie. Later on everybody told me I was crazy, I was imagining things, I hadn't seen what I thought I had seen. But I know what I had seen. I could never get that image out of my head, and it was coming back to haunt me at this very moment.

I sprung up on my bed. "I should go down and check on her," I said.

"You should go check on her before your dad gets back," Miranda suggested.

I nodded. "Do you want to come with me?" I asked hopefully.

"Oh no," Miranda said, shaking her head. "I'll let you handle this one all by yourself." I might have said I was not afraid to go check on my mom, but Miranda clearly was.

I clearly was too, I just didn't want to admit it to Miranda.

-

I took the stairs slowly, but trying to make as much noise as possible, to let them know I was coming, so they would have time to stop whatever they were doing before I turned the corner.

"Mom!" I called, walking through the foyer into the kitchen. I looked around and saw no one. "Mom…?"

The house was quiet, empty. The patio doors were still open. I walked towards them, slowly, peeking over the top of the furniture, squinting my eyes, as if at a horror movie, ready to turn away should I see anything too disturbing.

But what I saw was no exactly disturbing. I mean it was, in a way, but not in the way I thought it might be. What I saw was actually very…sweet. At least it would have been sweet, if it were anybody else other than my mom and Gordo.

They were sitting on the edge of the deck outside, and he had his arm around her back, and he had his face leaning into her ear, clearly whispering words of comfort as he gently rocked her side to side. I saw her nodding, as if what he was whispering was getting through to her, as if it made more sense than anything else she had ever heard.

I stood in the middle of the living room and watched them for an endless moment, unexpectantly touched by Gordo's tenderness. That tenderness had been mine, once upon a time. This was so stupid! Suddenly I was jealous! Of my mom!

Then I saw them both stand up, and Gordo wrapped his arms around her, and she wrapped her arms around him, and they were both swaying, and I understood at once that they were dancing, that he was giving her the dance my dad would not. There was no music, but that didn't matter. They continued dancing in the dark, quiet backyard for longer than I could bear to stand there and watch them.

Numb, shocked, I walked back towards the stairs. I couldn't find the strength in my legs, though, to begin to climb back up to my room, where I would have to give Miranda some kind of account of what was going on. I didn't know how in the world I could possibly talk about what I had just seen. I sat down on the bottom step, all jumbled inside. Mom and Dad fighting….Mom and Gordo dancing….and me, a jumbled mess of emotions, including jealousy…

I put my hands over my face, just about ready to cry. I wanted Dad to come home. I wanted him to go apologize to Mom right away, and say something that would make her feel better, even if he had to say he was quitting that stupid job. Then I wanted Gordo to leave, and Mom and Dad to go upstairs and shut themselves in their room and not come out till morning or for days or for however long it would take them to catch up on everything that had been lost between them.

And on top of all that, I wanted to go back in time to before that day at the beach, before Gordo had cheated on me with Parker McKenzie, so that maybe somehow we could get through that day again and this time do it right. Gordo and my mom? How did that happen, wasn't it always supposed to be me and Gordo? How did the whole universe get so out of whack…?

Suddenly I heard noises in the house and I froze, listening.

"It's okay, David," I heard my mom say in a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm going to be fine now. In the meantime, I think it's best you leave before Sam comes back."

"I don't want to leave you, Jo. Not until I'm sure you're going to be alright," he said.

"I'm alright," she assured.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Stop worrying!"

"Jo…"

"David, please. I'm okay. I'm fine. Thanks to you, I'm sure I'm going to be okay."

"I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yes, yes. I'll see you tomorrow."

If she walked him to the door they would see me there and it would be very awkward. As it was, though, Mom did not come to the door. I saw Gordo pass by quickly and let himself out the front door, never even noticing I was there on the step behind him.

I made an instantaneous decision to follow him outside. I wasn't sure why or what I was going to say, but in a moment I was in the dark clammy heat of the August night, watching Gordo go down the front path of my house, and I heard myself say, "Hey, Gordon! Hold on."

He turned and looked at me in surprise. "Lizzie…"

I looked at him for quite a long time, wondering what I would say. Part of me wanted to say that stuff about going back to that day at the beach and regaining what had been lost, but the moment I began to think about that day, I felt the anger and resentment bubbling up inside me and I knew the opportunity to talk decently with him had just evaporated.

Besides, this moment was not about me, at least it shouldn't be. It was about my Mom and Dad, and I suddenly heard myself demanding, with more vehemence than I actually intended, "What the hell do you think you're doing with my mom?"

He gave me one of those looks with his eyebrows, clearly as annoyed with me as I was with him. "I'm doing what you all should be doing with her," he said. "What her family should be doing with her. Listening to her, helping her, appreciating her. You know, Lizzie, since I've come back to this house, I've been appalled by the way you all treat her, how you ignore her and take her for granted. Matt's a punk, and, hate to say it, Liz, but you can really be one self-centered whiny bitch---"

"Gordo!"

"And your dad's the worst of all. And I'm telling you, unless something changes, he's going to lose her."

"Why would you say that?" I asked in alarm. "She's not planning anything, is she? I mean, she wouldn't be thinking of…"

"Divorce?" Gordo said. "No. She hasn't used that word yet. But it's not far off, I'm sure, unless something changes. You should talk to your dad. Somebody needs to talk to him. Somebody needs to knock some sense into him."

I stood frozen to the spot. The "D" word had paralyzed me. At last I was able to tap my foot to keep my blood flowing, and I spit out, "Gordo, I don't want you coming around here any more."

Gordo gave me his cynical laugh, which I knew so well. "And why not?" he asked. "I'm the only friend she has at the moment, the only person she feels truly comfortable with. Why would you want to take that away from her?"

"My mother is a very lonely woman right now---"

"Precisely!" he agreed.

"Very lonely and very unhappy---"

"I'm agreeing with you!" he exclaimed in frustration. "That's why I don't understand why you would want to---"

"Because I don't trust you!" I spit out. "I can't trust you! I'm afraid you're going to…to…."

I couldn't say it. But I didn't need to say it. I saw Gordo's face fill with utter contempt as he read my mind and shot back at me, "You're warped, Lizzie McGuire. Do you know that?"

"I know what I see, Gordon," I said bitterly. "The eyes do not deceive."

"Your eyes do deceive," he said. "Nothing like that is happening. Nothing like that is going to happen."

He shook his head at me and I saw that look on his face which I knew meant he had reached the end of his tolerance, I had completely disgusted him and he was done talking to me.

He turned around and headed back down the path, his shoulders hunched.