Page 6 of Magic and Matrimony

It’s not that I don’t believe in them. I’ve seen the living proof in two of my best friends, but I’m not the person who gets the happy ending.

“Me neither,” Piper murmurs.

“That surprises me. I’d take you for a romantic at heart.” I pass a vehicle going less than half the speed limit. It’s not raining that hard. Rain pounds against the windshield.

“Me?” Piper responds right away, but then thinks about it for a second. “Maybe I am a romantic, but I’m also extremely unlucky. I don’t envision a future where I get a happily ever after.”

Her words strike me. Isn’t that the same thought I just had?

“Hey, I’m the cynical one here. You’re not allowed to be practical.”

“What happens when two pragmatists get married?” Piper laughs softly.

“They have realistic expectations. That’s probably a good thing.” Especially since I still don’t understand what this marriage is about. I mull over the fact that I just told Piper I’m a cynic, and here I am, putting a whole lot of trust in her.

We time the trip to the airport perfectly, and there’s very little waiting before we board the plane. I expect Piper to fall asleep, but she hasn’t stopped fidgeting since we left the house. The entire car ride, she shifted around in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs. As soon as we arrived at the airport, her eyes scanned the crowds as if she was waiting for cops to come arrest her. Maybe she’s a fugitive, and that’s why she’s so anxious to get out of town. Even when we boarded the plane, she inspected every one of the other passengers, as if searching for a specific face. When the flight attendant came by to offer us a drink, Piper nearly jumped out of her seat.

As soon as we get off the plane, Piper power walks to the line of cabs as though the devil’s chasing her. What the hell is going on?

I can’t believe I’m in Vegas. That I didn’t fight harder to get Piper to tell me what’s going on. Or that I even agreed to this in the first place. No one has ever accused me of being an overthinker, but still, even for me, this is very impulsive.

“Is there a chapel that you can take us to?” Piper asks the cabbie as soon as we slide into the backseat. The man has a thick bottle brush mustache that extends down to his chin. He’s bald as a cue ball and when he grins, he reveals a tooth capped in gold. “Are you two getting hitched? Well, congratulations. I know a real nice place for you.”

Our driver, who goes by Big Jim, gives us a rundown of the city of Vegas that would rival the best paid tour. I doubt Piper hears a word. She scans the streets as we drive from the outskirtsof Vegas into old town. Her knee is bouncing violently, and I drop my hand onto her thigh to get her to stop. Her head spins and she stares at me.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Nervous?”

“About getting married? No. Just anxious to get it over with.” She fiddles with the drawstring on her sweatshirt.

“Just what every groom loves to hear.” My hand is still on her thigh, and it flexes underneath my fingers. Piper’s breath hitches in her throat.

“I know this is a lot to ask of you.” Her face softens. There’s pain in her eyes. I don’t know the source, but I recognize the desperation.

I squeeze her thigh, and she makes a breathy little sound. “Who knows, maybe I’ll need a favor someday that requires you to jump off a crazy cliff with me. I’m going to expect you to do it, you know.”

Piper nods. “I owe you.”

I frown. That was supposed to be a joke, but Piper’s face is full of grim determination. “Well, not yet, you don’t. We have to get married first.”

Big Jim pulls up in front of a tiny white building that could be mistaken for a drive-thru coffee shop. There’s a wooden sign hanging out front with Sweethearts Chapel painted in a frilly font.

“Mabel and Bobby will take real good care of you here,” Big Jim says as he puts the car in park. Piper stares at the tiny chapel, and for the first time, she looks uncertain.

I study her face. There are dark circles under her eyes, making her look tired, but it doesn’t hide her beauty. Piper’s mouth is lush when she’s not pressing her lips tightly together. Her dark lashes are long and sweep against her cheeks when sheblinks. And her eyes are as blue as a clear sky. I can’t look lower than her face or I’m going to get myself into trouble.

It’s the fear I see in her eyes as she looks at the chapel that has me speaking. “We don’t have to do this.”

Piper shivers and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Let’s go.”

A tinkling bell rings when I open the door and usher Piper inside. The kind you expect when you walk into a shop selling knickknacks, not when moseying into somewhere that marries people. There’s a rotund woman in her sixties standing behind a podium. She has a head of hair that’s been sprayed into an impressive height, and a lot of pink lipstick on her mouth. She claps her hands and gives us a bright smile as we step inside.

“Welcome. I’m Mabel and this is my chapel with my husband, Bobby. What brings the two of you here today?” She tilts her head knowingly as she asks, her smile bright as she winks at me.

The lobby is sectioned off from the chapel by glass doors that look like they came off of someone’s back porch. The kind of sliding doors that usually lead out to a deck, but instead they’re partitioning the front entrance from the chapel portion of the building. Blood red carpet ripples in uneven spots on the floor, and a handful of wooden pews look like they were reclaimed from a church that closed. At the end of the chapel’s aisle is a giant heart wrapped in white Christmas lights that hang on a pink curtain. Fake palm trees have been set up sporadically around the room. I guess to give it a little green and combat the overwhelming red and pink theme. The whole place smells like alcohol, and the faint taint of cigarettes being smoked in here years ago. No amount of scrubbing has been able to oust that scent, although I’m not sure they tried that hard. The wallpaper has little hearts and cupids on it and is yellowing slightly.

Big Jim definitely brought us to an old-school chapel. He probably gets a kickback from Mabel. I’m guessing there aresome slightly more upscale wedding venues these days in Vegas, but honestly, I like the vibes of this place. Piper even has a small smile on her face.

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