8
A nnie knew this was foolish. She knew she should resist him and steer this, whatever it was, back to an impersonal, professional type of relationship. But she wasn’t made of stone. The feel of his mouth against hers turned her resolve into the consistency of a fistful of sand.
“Sweeter than Death by Chocolate,” he murmured against her lips as he gently pulled away. He hugged her close and said, “I’d better be careful or you’re going to give me cavities.”
“In your teeth?” she asked as she hugged him back.
“Nope. In my heart,” he said and pulled away from her. Gazing into her eyes, he pushed the hair out of her face.
The sincerity of his warm brown gaze left Annie shaking. Was he...? Did he...? What he said the night before...was it true? Had Fisher fallen in love with her?
“Well are you two going to be conformists to the patriarchal institution of matrimony, or what?” Swift stuck his head out of the door, interrupting the moment.
“Well?” Fisher looked at Annie.
“Yes,” Annie cleared her throat. “I’ll...ahem...you know.”
“When?” Lark asked, peeking around Swift.
“Tomorrow,” Fisher said.
“Tomorrow?” Annie asked. “But I have a million things to do.”
“Pencil in elope,” Fisher said.
“Elope?” Lark repeated, stepping into the hallway, her caftan billowing about her. “If you have to get married, the least you can do is let your mother be there. Even your sisters did that.”
“No can do, Lark,” Fisher said. “We’re under a time constraint.”
“But I can’t just leave the shop,” Annie protested. “I can’t leave it unattended.”
“Swift and Lark will watch it. Won’t you?”
“You betcha,” Swift agreed.
“I do have a mean recipe for tofu burgers,” Lark said.
“Oh no,” Annie started to argue.
Fisher cut her off. “There. It’s all settled. Go pack.”
“But—“
Fisher opened her door and pushed her through it.
“We’ll be gone overnight so pack your toothbrush.”
“But—“
Fisher shut the door on her.
“Good night, Annie-girl,” he said.
At five the next morning, Fisher knocked on her door.
“Annie, get a wiggle on,” he yelled.
Annie opened the door with a frown. “Do you have any idea what time it is? Who’s going to marry us this early in the morning?”
“I’ve got it covered,” he said. “You go hit the shower and dress for a wedding. We leave in a half hour.”
“What about Henry?”
“I’ll tell my mother to give him some of her seven grain muffins.”
“Seven grain?” Annie sighed. “I’d better have a business to come back to.”
“Don’t worry. You will.”
They rolled out of the driveway at five forty-five. Annie saw Henry at the back door. He was frowning in confusion. Whether it was at her or the seven grain muffins she couldn’t tell.
Swift and Lark stood beside their Volkswagen bus, which was covered in fluorescent pink and green flowers. Lark flashed them a peace sign as they passed. Annie waved.
When Fisher headed north out of the city, Annie began to get suspicious.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“We’re going to get married,” he said.
“I know, but where?” she asked.
“Vegas.”
“Vegas?!” she shrieked. “That’s a five-hour drive. We don’t have time to go to Vegas.”
“We’ll be back tomorrow,” he said.
“I thought we were going to a local JP,” she said. “My mother is going to kill me.”
“No, she won’t,” Fisher said. “We’ll be annulled before she even finds out we’re married.”
“You don’t know my mother.” She shook her head. “She loves weddings. Big ones with all of the trimmings. There’s a reason she’s had four of them, you know, and every one has been bigger than the last.”
“Isn’t that kind of—” he paused.
“Excessive?” Annie supplied. “Yes, it is. But that’s my mom.”
“Good for her,” he said.
“What?” she blinked.
“She hasn’t given up,” he said. “And she celebrates every trip down the aisle as if it’s her last. That’s an optimist.”
“I think you mean masochist.”
“No, I mean optimist,” he said. “I always thought I’d have a big wedding.”
“Really?”
“Yup. I figured when I found the girl of my dreams, I would propose, she’d say yes, and we’d have the biggest shindig the city of Phoenix has ever seen.”
“That could still happen,” Annie said.
“Maybe.” He shrugged.
“So you really want a big wedding?”
“Yeah. When I marry, I want everyone to know how crazy in love I am. I want to share my happiness with everyone. I suppose that sounds corny to an antimarriage person like you.”
“No,” she said. “It sounds...nice.”
The rest of the trip was spent in relative silence. Annie tried not to think about what Fisher had said. She failed. He was going to marry someday and it was going to be a big to-do. A spurt of what felt like jealousy gnawed at her. She couldn’t be jealous of a future wife who didn’t even exist yet. That would be ridiculous. And yet, she did feel jealous...and, well, mad.
When they reached Vegas, they headed straight to city hall for their wedding license. Thirty-five dollars later they were on their way to the Strip, the notorious street in Vegas that was home to most of the large casinos and some infamous wedding chapels.
“There are some options,” Fisher said. “We can get married by a bloated Elvis, we can get married in a drive-thru, we can get married while bungee jumping or we can just find a quiet, out-of-the-way chapel.”
“A quiet, out-of-the-way chapel, please,” Annie said.
Fisher consulted a list of chapels as he inched north in the clogging traffic of the Strip. The street was jammed with pedestrians, wandering from one colossal casino to the next. A huge pyramid, a castle, an enormous emerald building with a gold lion perched out front and a replica of New York City were just a few of the buildings that caused Annie’s eyes to pop. She hadn’t been to Vegas in years and it looked as if it had tripled in size.
“Here we go.” Fisher consulted the map and turned off the Strip at the next light. They drove east, past the airport, until they were on the outskirts of town.
They turned onto a dirt road and the Jeep jutted over divots and bumps until Annie was sure her teeth were loose. They pulled up in front of a pretty, whitewashed adobe house with a verandah that was covered in deep magenta and golden yellow bougainvillea. A sign hung from a wrought iron post. It read: Chapel in the Garden of Eden.
The front door burst open with a blast from an organ and out danced a beaming young couple. The bride was swathed in white sequins and the groom wore a black tux jacket over blue jeans and cowboy boots. The couple laughed and ran to their car, apparently eager to begin their honeymoon.
Annie felt Fisher take her elbow and turn her toward the house. “Ready?”
“Sure,” she said with a bravado she didn’t feel.
When they walked through the door, an enormous pile of platinum blond hair greeted them from behind a desk.
“Good evening,” a sultry voice said. “How may I help you?”
Annie blinked and looked down. The pile of hair was attached to the biggest bosom she’d ever seen. If Elvis was still alive, well then, so was Mae West.
“We’re here to get married,” Fisher said, handing her their license.
“How wonderful!” the woman exclaimed with a clap. “I’m Bambie and my husband Frank is the minister. Do you know what kind of ceremony you would like?”
Fisher glanced at Annie and she shrugged. “What are our options?”
“Well,” Bambie sucked in a breath, giving her bosom a life of its own. Obviously, the repetition of the speech had not diminished her enthusiasm for the task at hand.
Annie glanced around the foyer. Big scarlet roses, the size of her fist, trailed up the floral wallpaper that matched the red carpet, which matched the overstuffed velvet couch and chairs in the corner of the room. Annie wasn’t sure if she was in a chapel or a bordello. Then again, this was Vegas, it could be both.
“What do you think Annie-girl?” Fisher asked her.
“Whatever you decide is fine,” she said, unwilling to admit she hadn’t been listening.
“We’ll go with the short ceremony, with music, flowers and some photos,” Fisher said.
Annie felt the room lurch to her right. She grabbed Fisher’s arm to keep from falling.
“Annie, are you all right?” he asked, steadying her with his hand.
“Oh, I’m fine,” she lied. This time the room lurched to the left and she stumbled into his shirtfront.
“Annie, what’s wrong?” He held her by the shoulders and pushed her back so he could study her face.
“No...no...nothing,” she answered. Her teeth began to chatter, and she had to clench her jaw to keep it from clacking.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Oh, she’s just got prewedding jitters,” Bambie said. Reaching around Fisher, she patted Annie’s hand. “Oh, your hands are like ice. Not to worry, dear, that’s perfectly normal.”
Fisher glanced at Annie with a frown. She forced a smile, but it felt more like a snarl. He took her hands in his and began to chafe them.
“You look like you’re about to be executed,” he said.
“This might be easier with a blindfold and a cigarette,” she joked.
“Annie,” he whispered as he pulled her close and hugged her. “This isn’t for real. It isn’t a real wedding or marriage. We’ll have it annulled as soon as possible.”
“I know,” she said, feeling her stomach constrict into a painful knot. What Fisher said was true. She wondered why it didn’t make her feel any better.
While Fisher went into the chapel to meet the minister, Annie went to the ladies’ room to freshen up. Freshen up was a relative term as she spent most of her time sitting on a yellow chaise lounge with her head between her knees, willing herself not to throw up while Bambie fussed with her hair. When it was time to perform the ceremony, she didn’t know if she felt relieved or resigned.
Bambie played the organ while Annie, clutching a fistful of cream-colored roses, walked through the courtyard towards Fisher. Hundreds of tiny white lights illuminated the lush rose garden that surrounded them. Rose bushes bursting with flowers of every size, shape and color covered the walls, and the walkway was knee-deep in scattered petals. The scent of the roses was so strong it made Annie dizzy.
Fisher stood beside the minister at a small stone altar at the end of the courtyard. He looked gorgeous in a dark navy suit and burgundy tie. If they were here for any other purpose, Annie would have been intoxicated just by the sight of him. But they were here to perform this bogus wedding ceremony and she was having a hard time just placing one foot in front of the other. She felt as if she were wading through quick drying cement.
Fisher watched Annie struggle with each step she took. She’d said she didn’t believe in marriage, but he’d had no idea it was an absolute phobia for her. She looked so frightened and fragile, he was tempted to call the whole thing off. But then, there was a ridiculous, egoistic part of him that was hurt by her reaction to marrying him. Granted he was no great prize, but still, she could do a lot worse. But this wasn’t really a marriage, he reminded himself.
Too bad. Annie made a stunning bride. Her curly red hair had been piled on top of her head and cream-colored roses were tucked carefully amidst the fiery curls – Bambie’s doing, no doubt. A few strands had escaped her topknot to trail down the back of her neck and the sides of her face, softening her features into a look of striking beauty. Her cream-colored halter top sundress flared around her knees and accentuated her curvy figure—what a figure it was. Her matching high heel sandals showcased her long legs, and it was all Fisher could do not to give her a hearty wolf whistle of approval.
When she drew near, he saw that her blue eyes were wide and her lips were compressed into a thin, tight line. She looked scared to death.
He took her hand in his and squeezed. Her eyes darted up to meet his and he winked at her. A small smile was her only response.
Bambie ended her boisterous rendition of “Here Comes the Bride” and came to stand beside her husband to witness the ceremony.
“Dearly beloved...” Minister Frank began to read the ceremony, and Annie felt her stomach flip over. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t get married. It didn’t matter if it was in name only. Marriage was an unnatural state leading to inevitable heartbreak and disappointment.
She’d seen her parents fail repeatedly and she was seeing one of her closest friends suffer more of the same. She didn’t want to be one of the failures. She didn’t want to have to get a divorce or an annulment. She didn’t want to add to the depressing statistics that stated human beings were a fickle bunch and incapable of loving anyone more than themselves. She didn’t want to do this.
“I do,” Fisher said.
Annie snapped her gaze up to his. Oh my God, she thought, we’re halfway to married. It’s my turn and I can’t do it! I can’t do this!
“Well, Annie, do you?”
“Huh?” Annie turned to look at Frank. His gray mustache drooped over his lip in disapproval.
“Say, ‘I do,’” Fisher prompted her.
“What?” Annie turned to find Fisher watching her with one eyebrow raised. He was beginning to look vexed.
“Say ‘I do,’” he repeated.
Annie looked into his chocolate-brown eyes. He’d become more important to her than she wanted to acknowledge, but she had to. If they went through with this, things would change between them whether the ceremony was bogus or not. They’d start to feel shackled to one another and it would kill the love they’d shared so freely. She didn’t want that to happen. She was in love with him and she didn’t want to lose him. She knew that if they married, things would never be the same between them and she would lose him and what they’d shared forever.
She felt a tear spill out of the corner of her eye and she gulped back a sob.
“I do,” she whispered.
“There, now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Fisher asked as they drove away from the Chapel in the Garden of Eden. Annie was plucking loose petals out of her hair and tucking them into the pocket of the matching jacket she’d brought in case she was cold.
“No, I suppose not,” she answered and turned to face him. Bambie had tossed rose petals at them as they’d hurried to the Jeep. A bright pink petal was stuck behind Fisher’s collar and Annie reached up to brush it away. Fisher caught her hand and raised her fingers to his lips.
“I know how hard that was for you,” he said. “Thank you. Let’s hope our plan works and we catch our perp real soon.”
“Yeah, otherwise you might be stuck with me for life,” she joked.
Fisher squeezed her fingers in his and said, “I can think of worse ways to spend the rest of my life...without you comes to mind.”
Annie felt her breath stall in her lungs. He couldn’t mean...nah! She gently pulled her hand out of his. She didn’t want to think about the ramifications of being tied to him for life. She didn’t want to ponder why the thought didn’t distress her more.