Vegas, Baby

Robert Redford

I was high. Not on drugs. Just high on life. Love. Happiness. Alcohol. After we came down from the sky, James and I decided to celebrate some more, heading to The Rio Wine Cellar and Tasting Room. With James' smooth talking, we were granted entry without having our ID checked and James bought a bottle of expensive wine for us to share. 

Sitting in the corner of the room, away from everyone else, we got tipsy enough that we started to plan our entire future together. We agreed that we were going to get married because we were falling in love. We were going to have three children. We were going to live on a vineyard in Napa County. We were going to get a Volvo because I'd be a 'soccer mom'. I politely corrected James on this front. I was going to be a football mum, not a soccer mom. We were going to get a labrador. We'd name him Gunner. 

This plan of ours was just a dream, a promise for our future but as we drained the dregs of the bottle of red wine, we threw caution to the wind and decided, why wait?! 

An hour later, we were in a twenty-four-hour clothes store, looking for a white dress for myself and a suit for James. Naturally, it was easier for James to find what he wanted and he only tried on one suit in the end, deciding that it was perfect. On the other hand, I had five different dresses I needed to try on, each crazier than the last. The fifth dress had an eighties Madonna vibe, reminiscent of her Like a Virgin music video. 

"Yes, that's the one!" James bellowed when he saw it. "That's the dress. We're getting this dress. Give me the tag, I'll go pay. Don't get changed. You look like a beautiful bride. Wait, no! You are a beautiful bride. I'll be back."

Looking at my reflection in the shop mirror, I couldn't help but cringe at my appearance. I looked like I was on day-release from a psychiatric institute. I certainly felt like this whole plan of our would be reason enough that I'd be sent to a psych until because this was totally insane! I was going to get married. To a man I've known for only a few weeks. In Vegas. While drunk. 

"Ready?" James asked as he came back, looking handsome in his suit. This was my opportunity to say 'no I'm not ready and neither are you' but those words got stuck in my throat. Instead, I nodded and followed James out onto the street. He hailed a cab and helped bundle me inside. "Uh, could you take us to one of those Elvis wedding chapel places, please?"

The cab driver turned to look at us. "Do you have a marriage license, kid?"

"Oh, right," James muttered. "Take us to get one of those first and then take us to an Elvis wedding chapel."

Apparently, there's a lot of paperwork involved in getting married but after an hour of form filling, James and I had our license which would make our impending wedding legally binding. With the chapel less than a mile from the courthouse, we stumbled into the Viva Las Vegas chapel about five minutes later and presented the woman with the licence. There was a little wrangling between James and the woman; she was insisting that they didn't have any availability, James was insisting that someone officiate immediately, saying that he'd pay double the next ceremony just to have our wedding done and dusted as soon as possible. 

A man dressed in an Elvis getup came out into the reception area and cleared the way for us to get hitched. Since we didn't have any witnesses or guests, we'd be in and out in record time, although quickly realised we did need someone to witness the whole thing. Thankfully, the next couple had already arrived and were more than happy to come and watch up make our vows. The ceremony took ten minutes, tops, and after we had a quick photo taken, we were officially husband and wife. 

Married. Legally. 

"Is there a point in you changing your name?" James slurred his question as we walked back towards the Bellagio. I frowned. "We practically have the same surname. Taylor. Saylor. In the morning, we should probably go out and buy wedding bands."

"In the morning, I'll just want to sleep off whatever hangover I have," I admit as I stumble into the lobby of the hotel. The concierge, who James has come to be on a first-name basis with greeted us with an amused smile. "Yeah, we're married. It's offish."

James grinned. "Officially married, people!" For the entire ride up to our floor, he kept repeating the word 'married', only stopping when I begged him to. "Fine, I'll stop but that doesn't change the fact that we're-" he mouthed the m-word. "You're my wife, wifey. Man, that's weird to say. Is it weird for you?"

"Well, let's see," I say, grinning while unbuttoning his shirt. "We met and married within how many weeks, four? This time yesterday, I was an unmarried virgin, now look at me. Married and devirginised."

"That's not a word," James said as a matter of fact. He grinned. "I like it but it's not a word."

I shrug my shoulder. Suddenly, I gasped. "Robert Redford!" I say, slicking my fingers like a lightbulb has gone off in my head. "Damn it, I've been trying to think who you remind me of when you smile. It's Robert Redford. Spitting image." 

"I'm everything I am because you loved me," James randomly sang. When he noticed my blank expression, he took a step back and stared at me. "Celine Dion's song. From the movie Up Close & Personal. Starring Robert Redford."

Shaking my head, I laughed. "Never seen it."

"Damn, wifey, we're totally doing a movie day soon," James announced. Then, picking me up bridal style, he made his way to the bedroom. "But first, we're doing something else."