After his folks left, Gordo settled down in the den with Bruce Willis and Creamsicles. Soon he was so absorbed in the drama, and so full of Creamsicles, that he didn't even remember it was Valentine's Day. Except for a slight tummy ache, he was feeling fine.
A couple of hours passed. Now it was dark outside. As the first movie ended, Gordo wondered if there was some way he could put in the second movie without actually having to get up off the couch. He was so comfortable he didn't want to move. Superpowers would be nice about now. He tried to concentrate the absolute power of his conscious brain on the DVD player in an effort to make the door open, one disc fly out and another fly into its place, but alas, to no avail. Oh well, he thought, so much for the absolute power of my conscious brain.
If superpowers were not available, Gordo considered, he ought to at least have a multi-DVD player. They had units like that for CD's, did they have them for DVD's? He didn't know. What he did know was that if something like this did not already exist, he needed to invent it. This could make him a millionaire! Couch Potatoes all over the world would hold him in the highest esteem. He would be the Couch Potato King and he would never have to get up off the couch again. He sighed, a strange mixture of contentment and frustration welling up inside him.
Eventually Gordo pulled himself up off the couch, inserted the second movie, then plopped down again, thinking of nothing more than how many movies his invention had to be able play at a time in order to make him a millionaire. He wasn't even thinking about the movie on the TV screen when suddenly the phone beside him rang.
Oh crap! His bubble of reverie burst, he now had to deal with the difficult question of whether or not to answer. The phone in the den did not have a Caller ID display. By the time he might manage to pull himself up off this couch again to check the phone in the kitchen, the call could very well go to the answering machine. That wouldn't be too bad, except that he had a very clear memory of Meryl once telling him how she hated the way her voice sounded on the phone, so unless it was a dire emergency, she didn't like to leave messages.
What if this was Meryl? What if things had not gone well with Tudge tonight? What if they has already broken up and she needed his shoulder to cry on? Would she leave a message? Would that constitute a dire emergency?
On the other hand….what if this was Parker? She believed him to be sick at home. What if she was offering to bring him chicken soup? Egads! He couldn't let that happen! But if he didn't answer, she might assume the worst and run right over to---
"Hello?" Gordo said into the phone, adding a tiny cough on the end, just in case.
For a moment his heart stood still, wondering whose voice he was going to hear. He could already hear, in the almost imperceptible hissing in the background, that whoever was calling him was doing so from a public place. Gordo was good like that about the phone. He could pick up all the little clues. Somehow, he also knew that his caller was a female. Well, that was a fifty-fifty, but being that lately girls didn't seem to want to leave him alone, he would have bet one hundred percent of the farm on his caller being female.
In a moment, his mystery caller spoke. "David?"
It was Miranda.
Gordo sighed, somewhat disappointed, but also relieved. Miranda was okay. But, he wondered, wrinkling up his face, why in the world was she calling him now?
"Hey, Randa!" he said brightly. "What's up?"
"Well, that's what I'm calling to ask you," Miranda said. "I heard you're sick. Poor Gordo!"
"No, I'm okay. Don't worry about me," Gordo assured.
"I'm not really worried," Miranda assured. "I'm just…well, I was thinking of you, and I felt kinda bad about you being all alone on Valentine's Day, so I thought at the very least I ought to call you and say Happy Valentine's Day and all that. You know….just to let you know I was thinking about you."
Miranda stopped talking, and for a moment Gordo did not respond. He
could hear the clinking of glasses and silverware in the background.
"Thanks, Miranda. But I'm okay, really. How about you? Aren't
you…aren't you and Chris…?
"Oh yeah," Miranda said.
"We're at the Holy Rigatoni."
Gordo smirked. That was going to be his guess. Damn, he was good! But then suddenly he said, "Hey! Wait a minute, if you're out on a date, how is it that Chris doesn't mind you----"
"Oh, he's not here at the moment," Miranda explained. "He went across to the other side to say hi to Charlie and Allison."
"He left you alone?" Gordo questioned. "On Valentine's Day?"
"Only for a moment!" Miranda objected.
"Still…."
"Oh stop, Gordo! It's not a big deal. He'll be right back. I think he just wanted to see if maybe they want to, you know, double up…."
"He wants you to double date…on Valentine's Day? Randa!"
This time Miranda had no answer, and in her silence Gordo could feel her uneasiness. He suddenly wished he hadn't teased her. If things were not really so good between her and Chris, the last thing she needed was someone rubbing it in her face.
"Listen, Randa…" Gordo began.
"No, you're right," Miranda said suddenly. "It isn't right. I know that. And I know you know that, and I know you would never do something like that to your girlfriend. In fact, I'm quite sure, Gordo…David….that you would be only the very most considerate boyfriend a girl could possibly imagine…"
Okay, now this was officially getting weird. Gordo sensed where this conversation could go, and he didn't want it to go there, not with Miranda, not now. Maybe some other time with Miranda, like the far, distant future. In the furthest recesses of his mind, so recessed he himself almost didn't know it existed, there had always been the possibility that someday he and Miranda might get together. But not now.
He forced himself to think of Meryl, and with her bright smile and funny freckles vivid in his mind, he instantly said to Miranda, "I'm sure Chris is good boyfriend. But he's also a good friend, isn't he? To Charlie, I mean. You have to admire that in a person, someone who sticks by their friends."
"Whatever," Miranda said, suddenly bored with talking about Chris. "The main thing right now is that I want to make sure you're okay, David."
"I told you I was," Gordo said. "Please don't worry about me. My mom's got that covered pretty thoroughly, you know."
"Oh, I'm not worried!" Miranda said. "I really just wanted to let you know…well…that I'm thinking about you…."
She'd said that already. Gordo was starting to feel uncomfortable again. "Well, thanks, Randa. I appreciate that, I really do. But now---"
"And to let you know that I believe….I really, really believe, that somewhere out there is the perfect girl for you, David, the girl who will---"
"I know," Gordo agreed. "I believe that too." He was thinking of Meryl.
"And that someday," Miranda went on, dramatically, "when the time is right, and perhaps when you least expect it---"
Gordo rolled his eyes. Miranda was not planning to give up on this theme any time soon, was she? "Listen, Miranda---" he began.
"Listen to what?"
And then, magically, he heard a beeping on the phone. "Listen, I've got to go," he said. "Someone is trying to ring through."
"Oooh!" Miranda squealed. "Who do you think it could be, calling you on Valentine's Day? Perhaps a secret admirer?"
"You never know," Gordo indulged her fantasy. "Listen, I've got to go. You have a good time with Chris. I'll see you tomorrow morning. Skateboarding?"
"You bet!" Miranda agreed enthusiastically.
"Okay, bye!" Gordo said, and then clicked off the call.
He waited only a moment, sighing deeply, waiting for the phone to ring in his hand. Oh no! What if this was Parker? But then, it could be Meryl! He only had time enough to decide that his multi-disc DVD player would have to have a Caller ID built into the front panel for maximum convenience before he heard the ring and released the call.
"Hello?" he said for the second time that night.
But it was not Parker. And it was not Meryl. It was not Nicole and it was not AnnaBelle or Alexa Kennsington that Kate said had a crush on him. It was not even his mom. It was the last person in the world he ever expected to call him at home again. And as he heard her voice sobbing into the phone, the blood in his veins both pulsed and froze at the same time.
"Gordo? Gordo, is that you?"
"Lizzie…?" he whispered.
"Gordo, it's you! Oh my God, Gordo! Would you come over? Please come over, Gordo! Come now! I need to see you. I really….really….need to see you."
