The Gambler

by Denise Grover Swank

  The first lines of the song “Teen Angel” played on the speakers overhead—the original recording from the 1950s, from the sound of it.

  “Oops, wrong song,” Angelica murmured, pressing a button that stopped the music. “That was from the last couple.”

  Libby’s eyes widened and she held back a giggle.

  God, he loved her.

  Tinny piano music filled the room, reminding Noah of something from the 1980s. Then he realized it was something from the 1980s—his mother had listened to this song over and over when he was a kid. “Angel Eyes”. Was it destiny that they played his mother’s favorite song?

  Angelica gave Libby an exasperated look. “Well, what are you waiting for? Tito’s about to start singing.”

  Sure enough, Tito’s voice floated around them, but there was still no sign of Tito. “Girl, you’re looking fine tonight, and every guy has got you in his sight.”

  Noah had no idea where Tito could be, but he didn’t care. Libby was walking toward him with a soft smile on her lips. But then she stopped halfway down the short aisle, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape.

  His heart skipped a beat. Had she changed her mind?

  Sensing movement behind him, he looked over his shoulder. “Oh. My. God.”

  Now he dearly regretted paying for the top-of-the-line service. And to his horror, he now realized why Tito had been wearing a robe.

  A hole had opened in the arched ceiling and a pair of bare, hairy legs dangled from the opening.

  Tito continued to sing, putting emotion into his words as he belted out the rest of the stanza.

  Noah considered grabbing Libby and running the hell out of there, but his feet were frozen as the horror continued to unfold—the lower part of Tito’s abdomen was now visible, including his fabric-draped groin.

  Libby burst into hysterical laughter.

  Angelica planted her hands on her hips and gave Libby a dirty look. “Shh!”

  Libby covered her mouth and gave up all pretense of walking gracefully down the aisle, instead rushing over to Noah as he stepped off the platform to meet her. She grabbed his arm and whispered, “What in the hell is happening?”

  “I have no fucking idea.” His gaze had found its way back to the still-emerging man. Tito’s bare chest was now visible, as was the small golden harp he held in his hands. He dropped another couple feet, then remained in place as his feet began to kick the air.

  “I told you no demonic angels, Noah,” Libby whispered.

  His stomach clenched and he turned to apologize, but her grin spread from ear to ear.

  “Did you request this?”

  “You actually think I would?” he asked in dismay.

  “Asks the man who took me to see a giant hairball,” she countered in a whisper.

  “Shhh!!!” Angelica hushed louder.

  One of the homeless-looking guests sat up and pointed. “Hey, that man’s wearing a diaper!”

  Angelica stomped her foot. “Shh!”

  But Tito was too caught up in his performance to notice the commotion. He kept belting out the song as he descended, and to add gravitas to the occasion, the front of the chapel darkened and two spotlights flashed on, bathing Tito’s now visible and very hairy chest with a warm glow. As soon as his shoulders cleared the space, two wings unfurled from his back, both covered in white and silver feathers with sparkles that caught the lights. One of the wings caught on the wire holding Tito in the air, tilting him sideways. His arms flapped and his legs kicked as he hung there, suspended three feet off the ground. He released a little yelp, but almost immediately continued to sing and strum his harp.

  Libby broke into giggles again, burying her face in Noah’s arm to muffle the sound.

  A true showman, Tito jiggled enough to free his wing and landed gracefully on his feet. Without missing a beat, he turned his attention to Libby, crooning with even more earnestness as he repeated the chorus.

  “Hey.” Another man in the back shook the snoozing guy next to him. “You gotta see this.”

  The younger man roused, then blinked. “Dude, what was in that weed?”

  “I don’t know, but we gotta get some more.”

  “Shh!!!” Angelica snarled as she grabbed their arms and pulled both them out of their seats.

  “Hey! I want to see the show,” one of them protested, but she pushed them out through the doors. The four remaining men looked startled.

  “I think I should get a refund on the deluxe package,” Noah mumbled.

  Libby giggled again. “Is this guy performing the ceremony?”

  “Meet Tito, and I’m thinking that’s a yes.”

  “Oh, my God. We’re getting married by a man wearing a diaper.”

  “Nothing but the best for you, Libby St. Clair.” He grinned. “At least it’s not a skirt. And in case you’re wondering what’s underneath . . .” He motioned his head toward the ceiling.

  Libby looked up and gasped, followed by a new round of giggles.

  Tito finally stopped singing and cast an unamused glance at Noah and Libby. “You’ll have to come up onto the stage so I can perform the ceremony.”

  Oh, crap. How much time had they lost to Tito’s theatrics? “What time is it?”

  “What?” Tito asked.

  “Is it midnight yet?”

  “It’s 11:55,” Angelica shouted from the back of the room. “Tito still has time for another song.”

  “How about Tito sings after he pronounces us husband and wife?” Noah asked, trying to curb his impatience. He took Libby’s hand and helped her onto the platform in front of Tito.

  “You’re carrying the bouquet,” Tito said, scrunching his nose. “I tried to convince him to use a real one.”

  Noah started to explain, but she smiled up at him. “It’s beautiful. But you don’t have a boutonniere.”

  “I don’t need one, Lib.”

  She gave him a short scowl. “Yes you do.”

  Angelica climbed up onto the platform, taking photos with a small click and shoot camera, but from the looks of it, she was putting more of Tito in the frame than the bride and groom.

  Libby ignored her and plucked a daisy from her bouquet and stuffed the stem into Noah’s coat pocket. “It’s not perfect, but it will do.”

  “It fits this crazy wedding.”

  She looked up at him, her face radiating happiness. “It fits us.”

  He beamed with his own happiness. “Yeah, it does.”

  “Are you ready for the vows?” Tito asked, sounding annoyed. “I have a beautiful service prepared for you.”

  “I’m kind of curious what he’s got,” she whispered to Noah.

  “Then by all means, let’s do it.”

  Libby bit her upper lip, probably to hold in her laughter. “Yes, we’re ready for the vows. But can we do our own after?”

  “Well, I guess.” Tito sounded miffed, but he lifted his chin. He leaned over and set the harp on the floor. “Angelica. The vows lighting.”

  Angelica had been moving around getting photos, but now she hurried to the back corner.

  Tito was still spotlit in his golden glow, but two softer spotlights now shone on the floor in front of him. He curled his fingers and motioned for Libby and Noah to move to their positions.

  “I feel like I’m in the plot of a horror movie,” Noah muttered. “And it doesn’t end well.”

  Libby burst out laughing again.

  Tito’s forehead furrowed into a deep frown, but he took a deep breath and lifted his hands at his sides, holding his arms horizontal to the ground, palms up. A light shot out from behind him, putting him in silhouette as a bright light surrounded him. He closed his eyes. “And lo, I descend from above to join you two in holy matrimony.”

  Libby grabbed Noah’s hand and held tight.

  “Do you Elizabeth . . . uh . . .” He pulled the top of his loincloth away from his stomach and looked inside.

  Noah leaned close to her and whispered, “If he takes that thi
ng off, I’m leaving, Lib.”

  She lifted her hand to her mouth and bit the side of her index finger. “Deal.”

  Tito looked up and cleared his throat before returning his arms to their previous positions. “Do you, Elizabeth Gabriella St. Clair, take this man, Noah Michael McMillan, to be your husband?”

  She looked up into Noah’s face, her eyes dancing. “I do.”

  “To have and to hold in the angel’s glowing light?”

  She took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “I do.”

  “Will you stand by his side until his aura fades?”

  She grinned. “I will.”

  “Will you let his wings spread wide so that he can take flight?”

  She tilted her head and gave Noah a mischievous grin. “It depends on where he’s flying off to.”

  Tito’s head jutted back in surprise. “Oh.”

  “I’ll take it,” Noah said, squeezing her hand. “I’m not planning to fly anywhere without her.”

  Tito looked confused by the alteration to his vows.

  “Noah Michael McMillan, do you take Elizabeth Gabriella St. Clair to be your wife?”

  The words filled him with more hope and joy than he thought possible. “I do.”

  “To have and to hold in the angel’s glowing light?”

  Her eyes twinkled with mischief. God, he loved her. He never suspected he could ever love anyone this much. “I do.”

  “Will you stand by her side until her aura fades?”

  He shook his head, lifting his hand to cup her cheek. “Her aura will never fade. Impossible.”

  Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him with unabashed love. “Oh, Noah.”

  “Um . . . okay . . .” Tito fumbled, clearly unsure what to do.

  “I’ve got this, Tito.” Noah reached for Libby’s hands and held them gently in front of him. “Libby, I’m so grateful Josh tricked Megan into letting him be her fiancé.”

  Tito’s eyes widened. “Huh?”

  “If he hadn’t tried to steal information about her father’s business, we might never have met.”

  Tito’s eyes widened even wider.

  “I’ve had more fun with you in the last five months than in the previous four hundred and ten combined. But more importantly, I’ve found my best friend. You make me a better man, Libby St. Clair, and I can’t wait start our lives together in Seattle—you, me, and Tortoise.”

  She smiled up at him, tears in her eyes. “Noah, you’ve been there for me when everyone else almost gave up on me. Thank you for the last two days, which were exactly what I needed. You’re the only one who’s ever really understood me. But more importantly, you’re the only person in this world I can completely trust. Thank you.”

  “Oh, Lib.” He brushed away a tear. “I promise I’ll never let you down.”

  “I’m counting on that.”

  Tito studied them for a moment and shrugged, then picked up his harp. “The rings.”

  Noah tilted his head and grinned. “If he pulls them out of his diaper,” he whispered into her ear, “I’m not using them.”

  “We have rings?”

  Tito began strumming an unrecognizable tune on the harp, then said in a theatrical voice, “Release the doves.”

  Angelica opened a small cabinet door on the wall and two white birds flew out and swooped around the room.

  Noah’s mouth dropped open. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  Libby started laughing again. “It’s perfect!”

  “Hey!” one of the men in the back shouted. “It pooped on me!”

  The birds swooped around the room a few times before finally landing on the top of Tito’s harp, the rings dangling from their feet with strings.

  “Come get your rings,” Tito said, nodding toward the doves as he continued playing the instrument.

  “Is now a bad time to mention I hate birds?” Noah grumbled, inching his way forward.

  “I’ll do it,” Libby said as she stepped around him, slowly reaching for the string on the first dove. She handed Noah the ring—hers—then untied the other ring and moved back in front of him.

  The back doors burst open, spilling light into the darkened chapel, and Noah wondered what Tito and Angelica could possibly have planned next. Startled, the birds went crazy, flapping their wings and taking off into flight, swooping over their heads.

  Noah put a protective arm around Libby and pulled her to his chest, but then he realized the two older women standing in the doorway had nothing to do with the Little Heaven Wedding Chapel deluxe package.

  “Sweet baby Jesus!” Gram shouted.

  “No,” Nana Ruby said in disgust. “That’s not Jesus. It’s just a hairy man in a diaper.”

  Tito stopped strumming and shot them a glare. “I’m sorry, but we’re in the middle of a service. Feel free to sit and watch or wait in the lobby, and we can marry you next.”

  Ruby snorted. “He thinks we’re getting married.”

  Gram chuckled. “You’ve got it wrong there, Mr. Diaper Man. She’s got herself a man who’s into BMI, and I’m on the prowl.” She paused and took in the mural on the ceiling. “Although I may have found him.” She turned back and appraised Tito with a gleam in her eye. “Is this one of those Costco things? I didn’t know you kids were into that.”

  Noah burst into laughter. “I think you mean cosplay, Gram. And we’re not. This is everything that comes with the deluxe package.”

  Gram nodded as though that explained everything.

  Tito shuddered and looked down his nose at Noah, which was difficult since Tito was a good six inches shorter. “You know these women?”

  “They’re our grandmothers,” Libby explained with a shrug. “Kind of.”

  Tito waved them forward. “Then come in and sit down. We’re in the middle of their vows.”

  “Wait!” Libby said, holding up her bouquet. “You’re not here to object to the wedding, are you?”

  “Object?” Gram asked in disbelief. “Why would we object? I’ve been shipping you two since you first laid eyes on each other.”

  “And I could see your connection at Blair’s wedding shower for my sorry excuse for a grandson, Neil,” Ruby added. “Let’s get this going.”

  The two women sat down as Tito lifted his arms and stared up at the hole in the ceiling. “Let us resume.”

  “What time is it?” Noah asked.

  Nana Ruby looked at her watch. “Eleven fifty-nine.”

  Noah grabbed Libby’s hand and shoved the ring on her finger. “Lib, if you don’t like this, we can get you a new one.” Then he held his hand out to her and she slipped the other ring on his finger.

  “It’s perfect.”

  Noah turned to the shocked Tito. “Quick. Declare us man and wife.”

  Tito looked dismayed. “But we have more service first. We haven’t gotten to the dancing angels yet.”

  Libby’s mouth dropped open. “Dancing angels?”

  “Maybe later!” Noah shouted. “Declare us man and wife!”

  Tito shook his head. “Okay, I declare you man and wife, you may—”

  Noah pulled Libby into his arms and placed a hard kiss on her mouth.

  “—kiss your bride,” he finished in defeat. “You ruined the wedding.”

  Libby pulled back and stared into Noah’s face. “No, it was the most perfect wedding ever.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “We did it,” Noah said beaming. “Happy Birthday, Libby.”

  She stared into the face of her husband. Noah’s my husband. “I can’t believe we did it.”

  Worry wrinkled his forehead. “Are you sorry?”

  Their decision had been impulsive. They’d made it while they were drunk. Noah hadn’t even said the words I love you, yet she knew he did, just as she knew they hadn’t made a mistake.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Say cheese!” Gram said, holding up her phone.

  Tito stood behind them, posin
g with his harp as Gram and Angelica snapped photos.

  “We need a picture with you and Nana Ruby,” Libby told them. “Angelica, can you take a photo of all us?”

  “Photos are included in the deluxe package,” Noah said, when Angelica started to balk.

  “Come on, Gram,” Noah said.

  “I gotta send this tweet first.” She tapped on her phone and looked up at them with a grin. “Done.”

  They spent the next five minutes taking photos. Libby insisted the paid wedding guests be in the photos and Noah found the two men who’d been kicked out, sitting on the floor of the front room, and invited them back in.

  Tito took center stage for all the photos. One of the men kept grabbing at Tito’s loincloth and the pseudo angel kept smacking his hand away. Libby giggled through it all, wondering how everything could be so perfect.

  Then just as Noah predicted, a bright light shone from the hole in the ceiling and Tito rose back up into the air, his wing catching on the edge of the hole.

  “Angelica! Lower me back down!”

  Angelica kept pushing a button on the wall by the stereo system. “It’s stuck.”

  Noah ushered the three women toward the exit, snagging Libby’s hand in his as they moved. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Tito!” Angelica cried out, hurrying toward the platform. “I’ll get the ladder, baby.”

  “How’d you two get here?” Libby asked the grandmothers after they’d made it into the lobby.

  “We took a taxi,” Nana Ruby said, covering her mouth as she yawned. “It’s waiting for us outside, and I think I need to get back and go to bed. I haven’t been up this late since Nixon was in the White House.”

  Gram curled her upper lip. “That’s a crock of bullshit and you know it. You were up late on that cruise you went on last summer. The one with the used tire salesmen convention.”

  Nana threw up her hands in exasperation. “That was one night—one night—and I was drunk, besides.” She leaned closer to Gram. “And when I told you last week, you said you’d carry it to your grave.”

  “I haven’t given up anything, you old fool. You’ve given yourself up.”

  “Never mind.” Nana released a huge groan. “Maude. It’s time for both of us to go back and go to bed.”