IV: She Turns
Suddenly he stopped mimicking and burst out laughing again. There wasn't a trace of my father in him now. It was… the type of laugh Gordo used to get while watching Ernie annoy Bert on Sesame Street. The kind of laugh that was infectious, but obnoxious.
"Why are you laughing?" He was shaking while trying to stop laughing. "You…should see your face!" He burst out laughing again and a huge snorting sound came from his nose and I found myself smiling at him, but wiped it off. "It's not funny Gordo!" He sobered a little and simply smiled. "Makeshift crack house, Miranda?" I just looked at him. "I was kidding. It was a joke!"
"I knew that."
"No you didn't."
Before I could repeat myself he placed his hand over my mouth. "We're different now so whatever comes out of my mouth you would believe. I know that. I'm sorry. But I'm not a crack head, Miranda." He said it with seriousness, but that smirk was still playing on his lips as he dropped his hand. I rolled my eyes at him and sat back on the couch. I was annoyed, stupidly relieved, definitely annoyed. We sat there for a little while before I reran how the crack head conversation started. I drooped my head to the right to look at him.
"Who told you that you were no good?" He moved his head to look at me now, and I looked under the veils to see the clouded orbs underneath them. He didn't look ready to laugh- there was no twinkle. They looked troubled.
"It's not important."
"Of course it is. What even makes you so sure you can trust this person?"
"Experience."
"Gordo, come on," I prodded, " I cried in front of you." He turned to stare at the TV while it broadcasted an ad for the Ab Roller.
"That was your choice. I already told you to suck it up."
I sighed at him and looked over to the table by my end of the couch. The color of the wood had dulled like the light in the living room. There was an unlit lamp in the center of it that sat on a crème colored doily. I rubbed the back of a frame that lay face down on the table. I picked it up, looking at the three people looking back out from the frame. They sat on a park bench wide eyed and smiling at the camera. It reminded me of my family portrait on the wall. I picked up the frame in my hands and looked thoughtfully at the Gordons.
I looked back to Gordo who still stared fixedly at a George Forman infomercial. "How are your parents?"
"Still divorced."
"Better off than mine?"
"I wouldn't go that far. Can't really speak for either of them. Don't see them a lot." I raised a brow and he caught the questioning look. Gordo: Independent landowner. "I haven't heard anything from my dad: moved to lower Detroit. They aren't the best of friends right now and the former Mrs. Gordon has to work for her alimony. Really, I'm no better off than you." I put the frame back on the table: the three people looking down into the dust. Another lengthy silence forms long beeps in my ears.
"Are you going to go home?" I hadn't thought about going home, or anything past the next four seconds. "I guess I have to."
"I'm going with you."
"To my house?"
He shrugged. "Hey, there's more to life than empty houses," said the boy who sits alone in his living room day in and day out-or made it look that way.
"What about your mom?"
"What about my mom?" I had nothing to say to that.
We waited a while. I'm not sure why, but we did, and sat on his couch counting "Foreman Grill" commercials.
"Thirty-five. Maybe I should start a grill empire."
"Maybe. Couldn't be much worse than your idea for the trash empire."
"Garbage Empire."
"Oh, I'm sorry your Holy Crap Lord. Who knows, maybe you too can shave your head."
"The benefits!" It went on like this longer than the infomercials and we got to know each other again and really, not much had changed. We were more cynical, taller- tired, but not much had changed.
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Gordo looked at the journey to my house as a venture. The change kept him going. I guess he wanted to see how things had changed on the inside of someone else's house.
I unlocked the door of the house and pushed it open with Gordo now behind me. I paused a little and Gordo wound around me with wrinkled brows then he caught the same sight I did. My mom had finally come down. Granted, she looked better than she had in days. The sudden transformation from tattered robes and tear-stained cheeks to a journey to the other end of her closet and a smile, however faint, had been shock enough, but here on her right hand side sat Mrs. McGuire. The eyed us as we came across the step and into the house.
"Miranda, you're back. Gordo…hello. I felt Gordo lean into my back and heard him whisper softly, "Exaggerate a little?" I moved up to the counter as he went to greet the two women.
"Mrs. McGuire, what are you doing here?"
"I came here for your parents."
"What?"
"Mary Anne told me about what's been going on. I've just come to refer you to a counseling."
"That's great…I- wait- refer me?"
"Of course," she obviously caught the look of extreme shock I was throwing her. "Miranda…I know I haven't seen you in a while since you and Lizzie parted ways, but a broken friendship isn't going to condone your behavior. You've torn this family apart. From what I heard, I'm glad your mother called when she did."
All I could do was stare at her as my mother sat with a look of concern; hands lay on top of one another as she laid her brown eyes on me.
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