Hey! This is a oneshot written in the future of lizzie mcguire. Disclaimer – I don't own her or any other part of the show! Here you go…
It seemed impossible in this day and age, but the evidence was right there in front of her. Like a sign from the past come back to haunt her – or rather a slap in the face – Lizzie though dryly. The love letter she had sent to David Gordon nearly 10 years ago had been returned. Someone had scrawled across the envelope in bold black letters 'return to sender'.
She had a mad desire to rip it open and read those heartfelt words again. Her fingers were already lifting the edges of the ancient sticky tape when she noticed the car. It drove past slowly and the driver turned in her direction. She groaned, realizing she was standing at the mail box in her head-turning pajamas. Big yellow ducks waddled across her legs and the top was a traffic-stopping red.
"Everything OK?" Miranda stood at the door, watching her.
She forced a smile. "Yes, of course."
"Not bad news, I hope." Her friend's eyes were glued to the envelope. "Who's it from?"
Lizzie sighed. Once Miranda got her teeth into something juicy, she didn't let go. "No one."
"No one? Well, that sounds right. You've gone all pale, like you've seen a ghost or something"
"Something like that," Lizzie muttered. She gave her friend a quick hug. "I'll be all right. Thanks for helping."
"Any time," Miranda grinned. "And, yes, I'll mind my own business." Her face grew serious. "Sure you don't want some company?"
Lizzie shook her head and Miranda laughed. "See you tomorrow. Be careful of that letter from no one… if you keep screwing it up, you'll never be able to read it."
Lizzie watched Miranda drive away, then went back to her crowded hallway.
She had lived her whole life in this house, and now that lifetime was packed into a pile of cardboard boxes.
They had bought the house from her parents. The perfect place to raise a family, her mother had teased but that had never happened. Now it was time to move on. Not that she had had a choice. Danny had insisted they sell the house after the divorce. Her fingers tightened, squeezing the envelope into a ball. She flared at it, then sent it shooting across the kitchen towards the bin.
In a matter of hours, the truck was full and the house empty. With a last lingering look, she closed the door. She would drop the extra set of keys back here tomorrow.
It was late by the time the removalists had unloaded all the boxes. Desperate to find something close to her workplace, she had overlooked the sorry state of the tiny flat. She would order pizza, open a bottle of wine, and down her sorrows. Cleaning and unpacking could wait. Perhaps in the morning everything would look brighter – but she seriously doubted it.
Munching on her pizza and sipping her wine, she stared at a blank wall. She hadn't had the energy to unpack the TV, let alone find the box it was in. A tear splashed into her glass, followed by another.
It would have been different if she had stayed with Gordo. He'd given her his heart on that rooftop in Rome, and she's held it close to her own… until Danny Kessler, the stunning Greek god with his flowing locks and dark, soulful eyes. He had swept her off her feet, dragged her behind him, then dumped her in the dirt.
It had been a mistake from the beginning. She knew that. They had nothing in common except their mutual love of Danny!
She had thought of breaking off the engagement, but all the wedding plans had been made. During the last week, she came to the only decision she knew would make her happy. To follow her heart – if there was still a chance of it being claimed by one it had always belonged to.
That had been when she had written the letter. She had opened up her heart and begged Gordo to forgive her and take her back. But by the morning of the wedding, she had heard nothing from him. So it had all gone ahead.
Now the letter was back. He had never received it. At least her pride was still intact, which was one consolation.
After a night of fitful dreams she woke feeling tired, deciding to go back now with the keys and spend the last hour quietly in the house while it still belonged to her.
She wandered from room to room, reliving memories. But when she entered the kitchen, her heart stopped. There on the floor where the bin had been was the crumpled envelope. Tears of regret spilled as she sat on the floor with her rejected letter. She closed her eyes. If only……
"Hello Lizzie."
The words were spoken so softly she didn't know if she'd imagined them.
"Gordo?"
He laughed, that deep sexy laugh she remembered so well. Her heart did a crazy somersault.
"Well, last time I looked in the mirror, it was."
"You look different."
He looked incredible. Like a fine wine, he had improved with age.
"You look the same." The way he said it sent a tingle down her spine.
"I feel a mess." Her hands flew to her hair, tied back in a simple ponytail.
"You still look 19." He couldn't take his eyes off her.
"I feel a lot older." "And wiser!" she wanted to shout
He glanced at her hands. "I see you got the letter."
She blushed. So he had received it after all!
"You sent it back" then before she could stop herself, "Why?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious? You've read it."
All she remembered was how she had poured out her love in the letter and how she had begged him to take her back. And now he was throwing that love back in her face! Her pride had been crushed, but she wasn't going to have it stamped on again.
"What are you doing here?"
He looked slightly uncomfortable. "I think you know," he said softly and a smile lit his face.
Her heart leapt and she felt a flash of hope, smiling back – until she realized he was not looking at her but at someone else. She spun around and her smile died.
"Daddy, is it our house yet?" a little girl stood in the doorway.
"Soon, darling," he said gently. "Why not go and find your new bedroom?"
She grinned at him and ran down the hall.
"Your daughter, I presume," Lizzie said quietly.
He nodded and Lizzie felt as if her heart had broken into a thousand pieces. She gave a shaky laugh.
"Well, you've got yourself a nice family home. I'm sure you'll be very pleased with yourselves."
"Lizzie…"
"You'll need these," she said, tossing him the keys.
"About the letter…"
"I don't want to talk about it. It belongs in the past."
He nodded. "I understand."
Suddenly the little girl raced back and grabbed his hand. "Come and see my room, Daddy. It's beautiful!"
He laughed and gave her a gentle nudge. She smiled shyly at Lizzie and held out her hand. "I'm Lily
Anna forced a smile to her lips and shook the child's hand. "I hope you'll enjoy your new home. It's a very special place."
Before the tears tore her apart, she turned and hurried away. As she drove down the street, she glanced in her rear view mirror and saw Gordo and his daughter on the front steps. The little girl was waving.
Back at her flat, she found Miranda on the doorstep. Miranda followed her into the house without a word, which for Miranda was a major feat. If Lizzie hadn't felt like crying, she would have laughed at that moment.
She sighed. "David Gordon has bought my house."
"I heard he was back in town."
"You could have warned me!"
"Didn't think you'd be interested." Miranda eyed Lizzie keenly.
"I'm not! But it would have been nice to have known before I made a fool of myself. He got my letter, you know."
"Letter?" Miranda looked confused. "Oh, that letter." Miranda had been the only other person to know of it.
Lizzie tossed it back on the table. "He sent it back."
"But why now? What on earth did you put in it?"
"My heart, my soul, that sort of stuff." Lizzie pulled a face. "I cant remember exactly, but enough to make him shove it back in my face."
"So what are you going to do with it?"
Lizzie shrugged. "Keep it as a reminder never to bare my soul again."
"Want my advice?" Lizzie smiled, knowing she was going to get it from Miranda anyway. "Read it, then throw it out."
In the throes of cleaning and unpacking, thoughts of Gordo and the letter were cast aside – but not forgotten. He would always have a place in Lizzie's heart and she would never love anyone gain as deeply. But as soon as Miranda had gone, she decided not to take her friend's advice and tossed out the letter. She had absolutely not intention of reading it.
In the early hours of the morning she woke from a dream that left her with tears on her face. Gordo had been standing on a cliff, his arms outstretched, calling her name. but not matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get close enough to reach him.
She drifted into her kitchen and rifled through the bin to find the letter. She opened it. It seemed wrong somehow. A different person had written that letter, and innocent, trusting young girl, full of love and hope. But she had to read it and her hands shook as she unfolded the crumpled pages.
She stared blindly at the final words: I am getting married this Saturday, but I will stop everything if you say the word. Waiting to hear from you. All my love forever, Elizabeth Brooke McGuire. She folded the pages – then froze.
Scribbled across the back was a not in bold writing: Received your letter too late. Damn postal service! I don't trust it, so have dropped this back in your mailbox. I'm sorry we missed our chance at happiness all those years ago. Perhaps it's not too late for us now. We're both in the same boat. Divorced. If you're willing to try again, let me know. If not, I hope knowing I've bought your home will offer some small comfort. It will always be loved, as you are and always have been. I can only hope that one day you may wish to share it with me and my little girl, Lily. I have never stopped loving you. David Gordon.
Lizzie grabbed a pen and paper. At three o'clock in the morning, she wrote another love letter, baring her soul, pouring out all her love. Then she stopped.
She had nearly made the same silly mistake. Never again! No more love letters! She screwed up the piece of paper and tossed it in the bin. Lizzie smiled. This time, she's deliver her love in person, not in a letter. It was safer that way.
Woot! Hows that for a one shot? Ive been working on this for soooooooo long; sorry about how I'm slow with my other stories, I don't have internet… anyway… purple is pretty, but u know wot is prettier? Purple buttons! Click n review pls!