back and see it again.”
“Really?”
“Why not? It’s not that long of a flight.”
“I’d love that.”
We arrived at the restaurant and were seated. Dinner was delicious. When it was served, steam rose from the plates, so we had to wait a bit before we could eat. Luckily, it was pasta, so it didn’t take too long for us to dive in. My plate was polished long before English made a dent in hers.
Our wedding chapel appointment was the following afternoon. English walked out of the room, wearing the sides of her hair up, leaving the rest cascading down her back in a waterfall of waves. She was exquisite in a cream-colored dress that was simple, yet elegant. It was sleeveless with a wide neckline, showing off the long slender column of her neck. I had to maintain my focus because in truth, I wanted to rip that dress off her, toss her on the bed, and fuck her mercilessly. She was a dream and was unmatched in her beauty.
We arrived at the chapel, and cheesy didn’t come close to describing our Elvis-impersonating minister. English bit her knuckles to keep from laughing. His lovely wife wore a full-blown Priscilla wig, but she looked more like Dolly Parton had in the seventies—huge-busted, with sky-high hair, her gigantic chicklet teeth glowing in the dark (or they would have if the lights were off). Her dress was covered with gaudy sequins and ended up in a flounce of ruffles right above her knees. She was a sight to behold.
Mrs. Elvis said, “Oooh, darlin’, would you look at you. Why, I’d give anything for your hair. Elvis, honey, can you imagine her hair and my…” She looked down at her gigantic breasts.
Elvis ogled them. “Oh, the things we could do.”
I really didn’t want to imagine that. “So can we get on with the ceremony?”
“Step right over here,” Mrs. Elvis said. She was standing in as our witness.
Elvis opened up with a line from I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You. Only he was terrible. I squirmed as he made eyes at his wife. English squeezed my hand and my gaze went to her. She was biting down on both upper and lower lips. Now I had the urge to laugh. It was like when I was a kid in church and couldn’t stop.
When Elvis finished singing, he had us repeat our vows after him, during which Mrs. Elvis wept. One of her fake eyelashes fell off and hung over her eye as she tried to jam it back on. He finally pronounced us married and we signed the marriage license. As we scurried out of there, Mrs. Elvis chased us down. “Don’t you want the lovely video we made?”
“Right.” I grabbed it from her and we left. “This will be something to give us a good laugh over when we get old.”
English let out a loud snort and cackled as we hurried away from the chapel. “Oh, God. My aching sides. That woman! Those boobs. When her eyelash fell I thought I’d die! Do you think she had on a wig?”
“Does a bear poop in the woods? Hell, yes, that was a wig. No one can possibly get their hair to do that.”
She snorted again and I suggested we get a drink somewhere to celebrate. I ushered her into one of the hotels and we went to the lounge, where I ordered a bottle of champagne.
We looked at each other and cracked up all over again. “I just can’t. She was like nothing I’d ever seen,” English said.
“Wait. What about him? Singing to us?”
“Oh, God, stop. I’m dying here.” She held her sides as she howled. “They were the best. I bet they get a lot of business just for the theatrics.”
“Can’t say but we need to leave them a great review.”
After our laughter died down, English looked at her wedding ring. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t even have a chance to appreciate this earlier. It’s gorgeous and looks perfect with the diamond.”
I’d bought an eternity ring that had diamonds all around it, but they were set in a staggered pattern to make it look unusual and different. “I’m happy you like it. I was thinking you should have one on either side.”
“You think? I kind of like it this way.”
“English, it’s yours so you can have it any way you want. I just thought two would balance it out.”
“Let me think on it.”
We finished our champagne and I took her to a casino to