Mai Tai Marriage

by Chris Keniston

  Jim swallowed another shot of tequila and laughed as loud and hard as he could at whatever stupid joke Brent had just told.

  “Would have been one hell of a reception,” he muttered to no one in particular

  “It is one hell of a party,” a soft voice barely above a whisper sounded beside him. “Care to dance, sailor?”

  The beer bottle that had accompanied the tequila chaser was pulled from his hand. A tanned slender arm reached forward and delicate fingers folded with his. Without another word the curvaceous body under a blurred crop of short sunny blonde hair led him away from the bar and his joke telling buddies to the middle of a very crowded dance floor. Blinking repeatedly, his pickled vision failed to clear. What did it matter anyhow? There was little about this day he intended to remember.

  A fast paced rendition of Lionel Richie’s “Love Will Find A Way” played in the background. Everyone around him moved at a quick clip. The way some arms and legs flailed had him flashing back to last night’s bar fight.

  “Come on. You can do better than that,” the voice, barely audible through the music, encouraged.

  Forcing his feet to do slightly better than an awkward shuffle, the rhythm began to take root somewhere deep inside him. With every beat his step grew lighter, along with his mood. By the third song, the alcohol fog had lifted enough to appreciate dancing with Lexie from the dive shop. Her hair wasn’t short, but pulled back in a fashionable roll, a large dark pink flower appeared to hold all the delicate strands in place.

  The way the woman slithered and shimmied would have put Triple D to shame. Not that Lexie moved like a stripper, but there was a grace in her step and an agility in her hips that brought classic sex symbols like Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield vividly to mind. In a sleek purple strapless sundress with a wide waist-cinching belt, the woman was pure sex appeal in cotton.

  Fingers snapping to her side, feet lifting up and down in place, hips swaying back and forth, Lexie leaned forward and shouted over the music, “You move pretty good once you get going.”

  And wouldn’t he just love to show her exactly how good he could move. “You, too.”

  Leaning forward again, she added with a bright smile, “I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up.”

  One chorus later, the DJ either had bionic ears or realized it was time to give everyone a break. The wedding standard “Shout” slipped away and an easy rendition of Etta James’ “At Last” slid in.

  Extending his hand, Jim tried for a friendly, I’m-not-really-plastered or horny, smile. The ease with which Lexie accepted his hand and curled into his hold told him it must have worked. “Thank you.”

  Dancing a respectable few inches away from him, she tilted her head up. “For what?”

  “Bailing us out of jail, thinking I’m too good for Bridget, not calling the insane asylum when I decided to go through with this party, dealing with the minister—”

  “And your parents.”

  “And my parents. And most of all for rescuing me from Brent’s stupid jokes and the pitiful stares.”

  A hint of something sad flickered across her face. A flash of pain? A memory?

  Through a weak smile she nodded. “My pleasure.”

  He tightened his hold on her. “Penny for your thoughts.”

  “You’d be over paying.”

  “Try me.”

  “I was just thinking I should have had a party. That’s all.”

  She gave another try at a casual smile but the sadness in her eyes continued to stare back at him. For just a few seconds, he’d forgotten his own pain and wondered who had hurt her and why. “What happened?”

  The fake smile frozen in place, she hitched a shoulder and shook her head. “Ancient history.”

  “I love history.” He tossed out his best effort at his standard charming grin that had always served him so well.

  When Lexie’s head fell back with a soft laugh, his heart felt lighter.

  “Do you always get what you want, Commander?”

  “Sometimes.” Normally he would have answered always, but it was quite obvious today was an exception.

  “It was years ago.” She took in a long deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Graham. Winston. Montgomery. Excellent match. My parents were thrilled. His mother was thrilled. I was thrilled. Everyone was thrilled. Except maybe Graham. Well.” She blew out another sigh. “No maybe about it. Except for Graham. A man thrilled with his future wife doesn’t have sex with another woman two days before his wedding. Does he?”

  Uh oh. “Uhm… I’m going to venture that’s not a real question.”

  “No.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “I guess it isn’t. Especially since I’m the only one of the three of us who considered having a wife and a girlfriend inappropriate. I thought I was committing to a loving marriage. Apparently, he thought of it as a simple business merger.”

  “I don’t know the guy, but anyone who sees you as a business merger has to be an idiot.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you.”

  “A compliment, yes, but also a fact.”

  Her smile, more sincere, spread. “Our families were country club cronies. Occasionally crossing paths in business. My parents in R and D, his in manufacturing. I suppose in some ways it would have been a merger. Heaven knows my mother blew a gasket when I called off the wedding at the last minute.”

  “She wanted you to marry a man with a girlfriend on the side?”

  “I never told her why I broke it off. There was no point. She would only have made excuses for him. You see—” Lexie poured on a rather thick upper crust accent, “—marrying Graham Winston Montgomery would have been quite a feather in our family cap.”

  “Wouldn’t want to mess with the family cap,” he muttered softly.

  “No. Instead I packed my bags and moved half way across the world.”

  “Hawaii.”

  She nodded. “Hawaii. So you see, I have some idea what you might be feeling.”

  He bobbed his head. Did she have any real idea? Lexie was a beautiful woman. He’d be willing to bet a month’s wages if he stripped away that sexy purple dress, the parts underneath would be just as beautiful as what he could see standing here in public. Any man would want her.

  “Tomorrow is soon enough to lick your wounds,” she continued. “But today you celebrate that Bridget changed her mind before the wedding and not a few years down the road with a baby or two in the mix.”

  “Forgive me if, at the moment, I have a hard time seeing it that way.”

  “You will. And that’s only because you’re already taking things much better than I did. Hell, not only should I have had the damn party, I should have grabbed any guy off the street and married him instead.”

  He liked her attitude. Her fury. Her…idea. “Tell you what.”

  “What?’

  “For the rest of the day, there was no Graham and no Bridget. I’ll be your doting groom and you my beloved bride. This will be the reception we should have had.”

  A huge laugh burst through, and for the first time all day, Lexie’s eyes gleamed with pure merriment. “That is the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard, and you are so on, buster.”

  With a flourish, Jim twirled her in place and then spun her into his arms at the same moment the DJ picked up the beat with the Bill Withers oldie, “Lovely Day”.

  * * *

  “Don’t you think you two are taking this a little over the top? It’s one thing to enjoy the reception, but to play bride and groom, complete with tossing the garter and bouquet?” Billy had been shaking his head at Jim and Lexie for the better part of the last few hours.

  Angela Carson leaned into her fiancé and raised her glass to her friend. “I have to agree, you guys are nuts. Fun, but nuts.”

  Hamming it up as they’d done all afternoon, Lexie and Jim entwined arms and drank from each other’s glasses. Maybe she and Jim had indulged in a few too many Mai Tais and a lot of silliness. But as word spread
that they would be bride and groom for the day and participating in all the customary reception elements, the crowd joined in with unexpected enthusiasm.

  So far the men had pinned dollar bills to her dress in exchange for a dance. Jim had the traditional dance with his mother while Lexie danced with his dad. They’d cut and fed each other cake. And now, thanks to the hotel gift shop, she had donned the blue and white garter and Jim was on bended knee waiting for his bride to sit down before him.

  “They’re nuts,” Angela repeated through a face splitting smile.

  Since most of the guests who stayed to celebrate the non-wedding were friends of Jim, the whole event had turned into a massive parody. And everyone was having a great time.

  “You ready, husband?” Lexie took the last sip from her umbrella clad Mai Tai and flung the plastic coconut shaped glass over her shoulder. Tucking one leg under the chair and thrusting her right leg straight out, she shot Jim her best come hither glance. “Come and get it.”

  Jim flexed his fingers then, wiggling his raised brows, leaned forward and inch by inch, in slow motion, raised the hem of her skirt until the lacey undergarment was exposed. Clasping his hands behind his back, he ducked forward and clamped his teeth around the stretchy ligature.

  His silly antics had everyone in the room doubled over with laughter, but his lips and teeth tugging at the garter and tickling Lexie’s thigh along the way was almost more sensation than she could take. Biting down on her lower lip, she refrained from squirming and giggling until Jim sprang up in triumph, waving his trophy for all to see.

  Hand extended to Lexie, once again Jim had become the towering symbol of chivalry. Pulling her off the chair and to her feet, he gave her hand a slight tug, bringing her up close to him. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “I was afraid that time we went a bit too far.” Eyes filled with concern scanned hers.

  “Really, it’s okay. You have no reason to know the inside of my thighs are very ticklish.” And why had she said that? For just a flash she saw heat flare in his gaze before tamping back down to room temperature. With her nose she pointed across the ballroom. “The guys are lining up. You’d better go finish what you started.”

  Like the bunch of drunken bachelors that they were, all of his single friends clamored over each other to win the coveted prize. Next, Lexie grabbed a floral arrangement off the table and using a rubber band provided by one of the guests, she manufactured a makeshift bouquet. “Ready, ladies?”

  A slightly smaller crowd of anxious females determined to be the next bride, shoved, pushed and leapt their way over friends and family with the ease of a pro football team.

  “Come on,” Jim whispered into her ear.

  Standing in the crowded circle of onlookers watching the lucky bachelor use his teeth to slide the garter up the leg of the brunette who won the bouquet toss, Lexie hadn’t noticed Jim sidle up beside her.

  “I could use some fresh air.” His hand slipped around hers and in a matched step they’d become accustomed to in a few short hours, she followed him onto the patio.

  Through the doublewide French doors, Lexie slid her hand away from his and crossed the expansive terrace. “We’re going to have to give the ballroom back.”

  “It’s booked till six.”

  “It’s five thirty now.”

  “Really?” Jim turned his wrist. “Wow.”

  “You know what they say about time flying when you’re having fun.” A hand at either side, looking out in the distance, she leaned onto the railing and raised her face to the sun.

  “It was fun.” Hands at his side, facing the building, Jim leaned back against the same rail. “You know, when I first agreed to this, all I wanted was to get shit-faced drunk.”

  Chin still raised, eyes closed, she nodded. “So you said.”

  “I know we’ve had a lot to drink tonight—”

  “Us and everyone in there.” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder to the party inside.

  He chuckled. “Everyone does seem to be feeling pretty happy. But my point is, I was more than half way to totally smashed when you swept me away to the dance floor. This is much better than drinking till I couldn’t see straight.”

  Eyes open, Lexie turned to find Jim not a foot away, as he’d been before, but mere inches. The heat of his breath warmed her face. Hands previously resting on the rail now drew a feathered touch up her arm. And then it happened. The ocean waves crashed on the shore, his lips descended on hers, and in the background Ella Fitzgerald crooned, Isn’t it Romantic.

  * * *

  He hadn’t meant to say anything more than thank you. He hadn’t meant to touch her, pull her close. And he certainly hadn’t meant to kiss her as though she really was his wife.

  But he did, and now she was kissing him back. Her arms eased around his neck. When her fingers raked through his hair, every drop of his blood rushed south. He’d like to think it wasn’t the liquor they’d consumed at fault for her welcoming response, but an irritated voice in the back of his head knew better.

  Pulling away was the only decent thing to do.

  Truly.

  Soon.

  “Hey, they’re out here!” a deep male voice boomed from behind. “Way to go, Jimbo!”

  Lexie eased out of his arms and he wondered what kind of a cad promised marriage to one woman yesterday and held another in his arms today? Someone a lot like Graham Winston Montgomery. Or him.

  “I say we have a little make believe ceremony to go along with this party.” A female guest shuffled up sporting a smile as bright as the sun and carrying two floral wedding leis that had rested by the cake table and remained unused. “What better spot for a pretend wedding than a beachfront terrace.”

  “Yeah,” a young lieutenant chimed in. “Then they can have a pretend honeymoo—”

  Jim was pretty sure the poor kid must have been standing too close to Billy or some other friend sober enough to stop the unintentional disrespect. The way Lexie’s cheeks singed the same shade as the flower in her hair, Jim wished his friend would have elbowed the guy two beats sooner.

  “We need a wedding conch,” another voice joined the momentum.

  “A what?” Lexie mumbled, before stepping back.

  “I don’t know,” he mouthed. And then it hit him. What difference did it make? It was one thing to play a part for a fun party, but faking a wedding ceremony was a horse of a different color. And only in Oz would that be a good thing. “Okay, folks we’ve had our fun. It’s almost time for the bride and groom for the day to make their escape and drown in bird seed.”

  “No, no. Here.” One of the native Hawaiian guests squeezed to the forefront of the group, shoved a massive seashell into a nearby officer’s hand, and pushed him in front of her. The quick acquiescence could only mean the man was her husband. “First you have to blow the conch to the four winds.”

  “That’s right,” agreed the first woman, still holding the traditional Hawaiian flower necklaces. “Then you have to exchange the wedding leis.” She placed the green one around Jim’s neck and the white one around Lexie’s.

  “This really isn’t necess—” he started.

  “They’re having fun.” Lexie slipped her hand into his and leaned into him. “Might as well go with the flow.”

  “Are you sure?” He had to wonder how sharp the memory of the never-had-wedding still was for her. And he was none too sure he wanted to be reminded this was supposed to have been his wedding day to the one woman he thought he could trust forever.

  Squeezing his hand, she offered up a wide smile and easy shrug. Right. No big deal. Just more fun in the sun.

  “We’ll need rings,” the conch woman said. “And does anyone have some string or ribbon?”

  “How about shoe laces?” A voice came from behind the crowd.

  “Perfect. I’ll need three.”

  Men hopped on one foot, tipping sideways and back as one by one a removed shoe lace was passed forward. By the time
the tomfoolery was over, the native woman now in charge had seven shoe laces. And he still couldn’t remember who her husband was.

  Blinking hard, he decided the Mai Tais must have been stronger than he’d realized. How else could he explain standing on a hotel terrace with fifty people, pretending to marry a woman he’d barely known for little more than a week? And Lexie certainly had to be more than tipsy to go along with the charade.

  “Okay.” The woman’s husband held up the shell. “Who’s going to blow on this thing?”

  A small roar of muffled laughs and chuckles erupted with everyone looking left and right around the patio. When none of the guests took him up on the offer, a nearby waiter stepped forward. “I can do this part.”

  Without direction, he positioned Jim and Lexie side by side, Jim’s hand on hers, and then draped a long linen napkin over their joined hands.

  Lexie looked to the young waiter then at Jim. He simply shrugged.

  The pseudo minister’s wife bobbed her head between them. “That symbolizes the marriage blanket. I’d forgotten.”

  Jim nodded politely as though any of it mattered. While the conch woman’s husband took his place as the pretend officiate, his wife quietly gave a young waitress two glasses and instructions in native Hawaiian.

  Minutes later the young girl ran up the steps from the beach, carrying the two glasses filled with sand and cradling an empty bowl under her arm. In unplanned synchronization, Jim and Lexie turned to the conch lady.

  With a wan smile, the woman quietly answered, “Sand ceremony.” As if that explained everything. Next she gave a gentle nod to the waiter who might or might not be skilled in the art of blowing into a seashell. He was. Four times.

  The next thing Jim knew, he and Lexie had exchanged leis, repeating something about fragrance lingering as their hearts remembered. Because coconut cord was not available, they’d braided three shoestrings together. The waiter performed a native chant while the waitress gracefully, or as gracefully as possible in slacks and a button down shirt, did the hula beside him. Each holding a glass of sand, he and Lexie poured the sand into the empty bowl and repeated more prose of love as the ever changing deep ocean and the circle of rings symbolic of the sun, the earth and the heavens.