Chapter 9 #2
“Because this place is terrible,” Ellie pointed out.
“And also, you’re dressed like a walking mall kiosk.
” Being in Vegas brought out Drake’s shopper alter ego she’d never met before.
Since their arrival, he’d purchased two fake designer wristwatches, a gold muscle tank Ellie hoped he would quickly come to regret, and a blended cocktail attached to a cheap beaded necklace.
Drake’s teeth clenched so tightly together that when he blew air out, it formed a whistle. “I want to marry you, Ellie. Please tell me you want to marry me.”
She had never given Drake any reason to doubt she wanted to marry him. Ellie scooted to fully face him. “Of course I want to marry you. Look, I’ll marry you wherever you want,” she told him. “And you know I love the kitsch. But are you sure this is what you want?”
Elvis hit a piercing high note that made them push back in the pew. Ellie watched Drake’s eyes move around the room, from the Styrofoam columns to the artwork that belonged inside a cheesy Italian restaurant. “Why are there artichokes on the wall?” he asked.
“Those are flowers, Drake.” She took his hand. “But do you really want to be playing the ‘flower or artichoke’ game at our wedding?”
His slow nod turned into a fast, decisive one. “Okay. It isn’t right.”
Before leaving the chapel, they claimed their complimentary photo shoot with Elvis.
They had already paid for the wedding package, and they should at least have a way to commemorate it, Ellie insisted.
Mostly, she wanted to lift Drake’s mood and prove to him that the night wasn’t a bust. So they joined Elvis at the staged photo area in front of a white limousine.
Ellie set a rose in her mouth, Drake held her hand, and Elvis revealed a shiny gold flask in his pocket that gave away he was about to be off the clock.
“I’d never want to forget this,” Ellie said. The photographer, who may have also been the chapel’s owner, snapped away.
“Are you that drunk?” Drake asked.
“No!” Ellie said. “But you know what they say. What happens in Vegas—”
“Stays in Vegas,” Drake finished as the final photo snapped.
Ellie jolted up in bed and flung the comforter off herself.
Vegas was the answer to all their problems, wasn’t it?
Drake was worried about how she would react to his past, but the cinema could be their Vegas: whatever happened there could stay right there.
They could simply watch the movies, and upon walking out, go about their lives as if none of it existed.
And if they did this, Ellie could get the answers she so desperately needed, and it wouldn’t have to impact their relationship.
Even better, they could experience each other’s childhood memories.
What went into a sly smile in a single photograph could be understood with deeper context.
Ellie and Drake could hear the voice on the other side of the camera.
They could see the foundation of the person they loved being built right before their eyes.
Photos . Photos would sell Drake on what she was thinking. He didn’t stir when Ellie closed the bedroom door and tiptoed downstairs. It was five in the morning. She had plenty of time to dig around the garage before he’d wake up.
A cold gust flew across her shoulders as she opened the door and flicked on the light switch.
The outdoor shelves were a mess of boxes; a downside to living in an old home was that it didn’t come with much closet space.
People in the past must have owned fewer things.
That had been Ellie’s philosophy for a while, too.
Throw it all away was the mantra of her early twenties.
If she could free herself from the heirlooms, photographs, and knickknacks that defined her back then, maybe she could move on from the pain.
But somewhere, more recently, regret had taken the place of her nonchalance.
She began to mourn the physical objects she’d given away.
Now their home brimmed with vintage items, other people’s discards in need of safekeeping.
A three-legged coffee table with a chipped top.
Hundreds of matchbooks she never used. The white shag rug with a single missing square.
Who had collected the scraps of Ellie’s past?
She hoped her things had found a good home as she stared up at the single cardboard box that housed all her childhood photos and videos.
MEMORIES , the lid read. She blew the dust off the top.
Within an hour, Ellie had tacked hundreds of old photos to their blank living room wall. Her hands moved over the glossy prints, mixing images from her own life chronologically with Drake’s based on the pen-marked numbers lining the back of each one.
There was Ellie’s first day at school when she wore a royal blue parka and a pair of silver clip-on earrings.
There was Drake’s eighth birthday when he wore a robot suit made from cardboard boxes.
There was Ellie’s thirteenth birthday party when Ellie sat in a sea of balloons wearing real earrings. By then, Ben had pierced her ears on her bedroom floor.
Next was Nielson Family Christmas, 2002. In a wide-framed shot, Drake sat next to a large red toy train that wound its way around a tall Christmas tree brushing up against the ceiling.
“What is all this?” Drake asked after he woke up and saw Ellie’s wall. He’d walked right by her to make them coffee without noticing the new photo gallery in their living room and almost spilled his giant cup when he came back in to kiss her good morning.
“We were so focused on cow tipping that we missed the best parts,” Ellie told him. “This, these kinds of moments, are the things we could see.” Drake softened. He was getting closer to agreeing with her. She could feel it. “What if the theater is our Vegas?” she suggested.
“I don’t get it.” Drake bent down to look at a photo of Ellie on a skiing trip.
She explained that they could experience the wonderful moments without the consequences of the bad ones.
“You could have a second chance to see your first snow. Your first kiss. Your Forrest the Fox mascot costume. I mean, I could actually watch you as the school mascot—”
“You’ve chosen the worst possible memory to convince me with,” Drake said, examining a row near the floor.
“We could agree to never talk about the cinema after we leave. Once the doors of the real world open back up, we can leave it all behind. Because what happens at the magic cinema stays at the magic cinema,” she explained.
Drake considered the suggestion. He was staring at a photo of himself wearing ice skates.
He pointed to it with a distinct fondness.
“This was the year my dad built an ice rink by hand in the back of the condo,” he told her.
“My family didn’t have a lot of money, but man. They knew how to make things special.”
“Is that …a yes?” Ellie asked.
Finally, Drake gave a reluctant nod. “Yes, with a caveat.”
“Of course,” she agreed, nodding. Even though they weren’t technically married yet, marriage was a compromise. Ellie knew she’d bent Drake in her direction, and she’d do anything she could to make him comfortable with going back.
“To do this right,” Drake said, moving to the kitchen to track down pen and paper, “we’re going to need some ground rules.”
THE RULES
RULE ONE:
What happens at the cinema stays in the cinema, as discussed.
RULE TWO:
No one else can know about the cinema. They wouldn’t believe it, anyway.
RULE THREE:
Yes, this means that Ellie cannot write about the cinema.
RULE FOUR:
Ellie and Drake will, no matter what, get married as planned. The wedding venue deposit has been paid, and that was expensive.
RULE FIVE:
Ellie and Drake will not go to the cinema alone. Movies should always be viewed with the other person there to eliminate secrets.
RULE SIX:
Ellie will not judge Drake for being a “total hopeless romantic” in the past.
RULE SEVEN:
Drake will not judge Ellie for her “interest in questionable men with even more questionable tattoos.”
RULE EIGHT:
Ellie and Drake will return to the cinema every week until they use all ten tickets. This gives them plenty of time before the wedding to process what they’ve seen.