by Ana Sparks
To be fair, with Alice’s pink and yellow go-go dress and red wig (added due to her staunch refusal to bleach her hair), as well as my hideous shirt and rank Rasta wig, we’d drawn much more vehement responses, from catcalls and whoops to stares that didn’t stop.
“Well, y’all will just fit right in,” the waitress declared, showing off her buck teeth.
Her sausage fingers directed us to a booth. We sat down and she swept away, leaving us to look at the peeling, faded picture of Marilyn Monroe on the wall beside our table.
Alice took my hand.
“I like this place, babe.”
Absentmindedly, I nodded while I scanned the room out of the corner of my eye. The guy sitting by the TV seemed to be staring at us too long, though it could have always just been because of my ugly-ass outfit or Alice’s hot one. But his ball cap looked stupid—a Toronto Maple Leafs fan in Nevada? It couldn’t be that he was…
My foot was brushed. I looked up to see Alice pouting at me.
“Pay attention to me,” she whined jokingly.
I kissed her on the cheek, patting the other one with my hand.
“Sorry, babe. You know how I worry.”
Her foot strokes were rising higher and higher up my leg. Now they were at my knee. Alice said nothing, but she didn’t have to. Was she thinking the same thing I was?
“…And this just in: Paul Van Patten, the famous Denver banker, has just been caught trying to flee the country after his company’s 100-million dollar off-shore account was uncovered to be siphoning money from customers.”
At the same time, Alice’s head and mine whipped around to the television where, sure enough, the scowling blond face of Paul was shown as he was manhandled into a cop car.
I grasped both of Alice’s hands and squeezed. She was beaming like I’d never seen before.
Her foot was now stroking my inner thigh. I wanted to seize her—right there and then—sweep her up in my arms and spin her around. Instead, I kissed her, and when we parted, our returning waitress let out an appreciative whoop.
“Well aren’t y’all just the cutest thing since sliced bread.”
Under her delighted spider-lashed gaze, Alice and I smiled sheepishly.
“What’s the occasion?” she asked.
Over her shoulder, the man with the Maple Leafs hat was staring at us again.
“Oh, you know”—I took Alice’s hand and squeezed—“love.”
Our waitress—Alma, according to her nametag—nodded appreciatively.
“So, what’s next?”
“Las Vegas,” Alice exclaimed before I had a chance to respond.
“Well I’ll be,” Alma crowed.
“I think we’re ready to order,” I said.
“Huh,” Alma said. “Didn’t give ya the menus or nothing.”
“Yes, but—” I pried a menu out of her hand and, after a quick glance, declared, “We’d like to split the big breakfast.”
“Jake—” Alice said, and, under the table, I kicked her.
“We’re really hungry too, so as fast as you can,” I said with an unconvincing grin. “Thanks.”
Alma left grumbling and Alice turned to me with a glare.
“I wanted a hot dog.”
I took her hand.
“Babe, I’ll buy you a whole pack as soon as we’re out of Mesquite. I just don’t think we should stay here much longer. We should probably try to get out of this restaurant as fast as we can.”
Alice’s forehead crinkled in concern.
“Oh, why?”
I leaned in, lowered my voice, and said, “The guy by the TV—don’t look—he seems to be staring at us suspiciously. His hat is all weird, too.”
Her mouth in a worried “O,” Alice nodded. Then, slowly, casually, she threw a glance over her shoulder. A glance which turned into a full-on staring session. The man rose and started walking toward us. I jumped up, but Alice placed a hand on my arm.
“It’s okay, Jake. I know him.”
Now standing in front of Alice, the man took off his hat and shoved out his hand.
“Alice. Knew I recognized ya, even in that kooky dress and wig.”
I shot a worried glance at Alice, but her smile was relaxed, genuine. If this guy recognized her, had a functioning brain, and had seen any news segment in the past week, then why on Earth shouldn’t I be worried?
“This is Gabriel,” Alice said to me. “He’s my best friend Lux’s boyfriend.”
Gabriel’s black eyes were flicking from Alice to me and then back to Alice again.
“Hey, Alice…you good?”
There was a moment’s pause, in which Tom’s words flashed in my head. This girl, she’s playing you, playing you, playing you…
But then Alice laughed.
“Yes, Gabe, completely. The TV stations have it all wrong. Jake’s a good guy, just got mixed up in some bad business. I’m not here against my will.”
Gabriel nodded slowly, as if trying to decide whether to yell for the cops now or later. Alice touched the arm of his thick navy sweatshirt.
“Gabe, please. You can call Lux after our meal and everything. Just sit here and hear me out.”
Gabriel nodded slowly, sitting on Alice’s side of the booth with a furtive look at me.
As we waited for Alma to return with our big breakfast, in a low voice, with periodic looks all around, Alice told him everything. She talked about the kidnapping (during which his lips pressed together so much they disappeared completely), staying at my place (his eyes narrowed to match), our bonding (he scratched at his neck in a way that wasn’t completely unpromising), and, finally, the events of the past few days—how much I had proven myself, how much she cared for me, and, finally, what we were going to do.
“Keep running?” Gabriel yelped in disbelief, after which Alice whacked and shushed him.
Alma chose this opportune time to appear with our big breakfast, which, as it turned out, wasn’t that big at all.
“Aw, there’s another of y’all,” she said, but Gabriel shook his head.
“I’m just from another table. I’m fine.”
Alma gave a big nod to this and, thankfully, left.
As Alice and I dug in, Gabriel argued his case.
“Okay, you somehow lost it and fell for this dude—cool. But you’re going to keep running? Why? And for how long?”
Alice paused, swallowed, and then said, “He’ll go to jail, Gabe.”
Gabe shrugged.
“Doesn’t your dad have lawyers so good they could get Charles Manson out of jail?”
At this, a smile played on Alice’s face, but I shook my head.
“That’s only if her father actually liked me, which he never will.”
Gabe’s gaze slid to me.
“You know that?”
I nodded.
“Yeah, I do. Guys like me—with a record and no job to speak of—we aren’t exactly promising fiancé material. Not for any girl’s father, and certainly not for one whose weekly earnings are more than I’ve ever made in my life. Not to mention that I kidnapped her.”
Gabriel nodded. There was no arguing with common sense after all. I’d be lucky if Alice’s dad didn’t have me thrown into Guantanamo Bay, let alone accept me as a worthy suitor for his daughter.
A few minutes later, after we’d reduced the big breakfast to a few dismal crumbs on the white, expansive plate, Gabriel voiced the question of the hour.
“So, what’s next?”
Alice shot a glance at me and then shrugged.
“We’re going to talk about it.”
Seeing our empty plate, Alma swooped in.
“So, y’all are finished and will be wanting the bill pronto?”
I took another dismal look at the empty plate. Suddenly, I didn’t want to leave at all.
But Alice said “yes” and Alma scooped it up and hurried away from our table.
“Lux’ll be wanting to talk to you,” Gabriel said, running his fingers through his h
air. “She’s been going psycho these past few days, was sure it was her fault for not convincing you to stay away from Paul. She practically killed me for going on this road trip, but I had to for work.”
Alice nodded.
“As soon as we get outside, call her. I’ve been missing her myself.”
She took my hand and squeezed it, looking at me as she said the next words.
“So much has happened since I talked to her last.”
Gabriel put his hat back on.
“She’ll be pissed, though. Just to warn you.”
Alice laughed.
“Yeah, I know. You don’t need to warn me.”
Alma returned and set our bill down with a glint of long, gold nails.
“I got this,” I said, taking some bills out of my pocket from the fast-diminishing pile Tom had given me.
“Wondered how you guys had been getting on,” Gabriel said with an understanding nod.
Outside, Gabriel called Lux and handed his phone to Alice.
We walked off into the parking lot and stood watching the far-off highway.
“So, Alice—you really like her, huh?” he said.
“I really do,” I replied.
It was funny: A few parking spots away, a gull swept down, picked up a fallen hot dog with its beak, and soared off.
It didn’t take Alice as long to talk to her friend as I had expected it would. Only a few minutes seemed to pass before I felt her arms around me and heard her cheery voice in my ear.
“All done now!”
I swept my arms around her. As Alice handed him the phone, Gabriel said, “So it went well?”
Alice nodded.
“Yeah. She yelled for the first bit, but really, she was just happy I’m okay.”
She smiled.
“Though she thinks I’m crazy and is threatening to come to Nevada herself to drag me back home.”
Smiling, Gabriel nodded.
“Yep, that sounds like our Lux.”
His gaze flicked to my arm around Alice, and his smile became strained.
“Well, I better be going now.”
Alice drew out of my grasp and hugged him.
“I’m glad I ran into you, even in these…circumstances.”
Gabriel nodded, his gaze flicking to me one last time.
“Yeah, you…you take care of yourself, Alice.”
He threw out his arm, gave me a limp-handed shake, and then walked off.
Putting my arm back around Alice’s colorful waist was a relief, and yet I couldn’t entirely dispel the negative impression Gabriel had left.
“He’s worried about you,” I said.
Alice sank into me deeper.
“I know. They all are.”
I turned to face her, to look into her assured eyes.
“Alice, I meant what I said. If you want to go back to Denver, to your friends, your family…then it’s fine. Really. You have to do what’s right for you. I want you to be happy.”
Alice only smiled, like I’d told a joke.
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“You.” Her finger tapped my chest. “You are what’s right for me. Not Denver. Not some boring, lukewarm, daddy-approved man I feel nothing for. You, with all your quirks. Whenever I’m around you, there’s no denying it.”
I shook my head and averted my gaze from those insistent, eager blue eyes.
“But, Alice…you don’t understand. I’ve done some very bad things in my life. I…I don’t know if I can live up to the man you think I am.”
When I chanced a glance back at her, her eyes were as certain as ever.
“No. You’re wrong, Jake Harker. I may not have known you for a long time, but I’ve seen enough. I know that you are a good man, and that you will always do your best to be so. And that’s all that matters.”
As her small, pale, soft fingers entwined with mine, all doubt suddenly fell to the ground. Whatever happened, whatever mistakes I’d make, as long as those blue eyes looked at me in that trusting way, as long as this extraordinary creature beside me kept on believing in the good in me, I could live up to what she saw me as.
Feeling Alice’s closeness like this, I couldn’t hold back from kissing her a moment longer. Her lips were impossibly soft, and, as I ran my hands through her silky strands of hair, the words spilled out of me.
“I can’t ever see myself not loving you.”
Breaking away, a smile flitting over her face, Alice looked me straight in the face and said, “I have a crazy idea.”
Chapter Eighteen
Alice
It really is true to its name. That was the only thing I could think as our van pulled up to the white building. “A Little White Chapel,” heart emblazoned heart sign read, and that was exactly what it was. And what we needed.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jake asked.
“Are you?” I shot back.
He sighed, giving me something between a smile and a scowl.
“You know I am. But hell, Alice, I told you, I want it to be a proper ceremony, where I can proclaim to the world just how much you mean to me. I want it in some big hall packed with our family and friends—not in some seedy Las Vegas, 24-hour joint with people who don’t give a damn about us.”
I clasped his hand.
“And I told you. We can do all that, have the big ceremony. Just for now, this is our best shot to get on my father’s good side. Trust me.”
Pulling over into the parking lot, Jake nodded.
“All right. I just hope you’re right, Alice.”
I didn’t say anything, but as we walked up to the white, heart-carved doors, all I was thinking was that I hoped so, too. We didn’t have anything wedding-appropriate to wear, but we’d opted to wear the nicest clothes we’d picked up on our travels. Jake looked as handsome as ever in dark jeans and a black V-neck T-shirt, while I donned my only white article of clothing—a lacey blouse—paired with a sky-blue skirt that brought out my eyes.
Inside at the gold-gilded front desk was an older woman talking on the phone.
“Naw. We don’t do movies. Sorry.”
She pressed a button and then continued talking on the phone. “Well hi. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. No. No dogs. Because they piss. No. No. Have a good one.”
She pressed a button. Then, seeing us, pressed another and, her platinum blond head raising slightly, asked, “Wedding?”
Unsure if she had been addressing us, we stared at her blankly.
“A wed-ding?” she repeated slowly, as if we were four-year-olds.
Jake jerked to life.
“Yes, actually. We’d like to get married. Now.”
Her over-tanned head nodded as her hands moved, unseen, behind the front desk.
“You’ll have to sign here.” She handed us a light pink form. “And that’ll be 75 dollars—cash, debit, or credit.”
A crinkled palm extended, presumably for the just-mentioned payment.
I fished around in my bag, but Jake put his hand on my lower arm.
“Don’t you dare. If we’re doing this your way, then we’re doing this my way.”
I sighed and began filling out the paperwork while Jake made the payment and chatted with the oh-so-friendly front desk woman.
“So, how does this work exactly?”
Cherry red, talon-like hands shoved back Jake’s change while bubble-gum pink lips said, “You go in, Charlene does the ceremony, you say vows if you’ve got ‘em, then—poof—it’s done. Marriage. The whole kit and caboodle.”
I could almost see Jake’s brow lowering in combative irritation. Luckily, I was done with the forms.
“Here you go,” I said. The woman accepted them without a word.
“Why, hello there,” a calm, friendly voice said.
We turned to see a kindly faced woman in a minister’s robe.
“Well, aren’t you two a picture,” she said in a reassuring voice with a southern twang. She shook both our
hands warmly. Then, leaning in, she asked, “Are you ready?”
At the uncertain silence that met her question, she laughed. Leaning in further, she said, “Now, don’t you worry. No one ever really is.”
Taking both our hands, she led us down a hallway toward a white-arched doorway.
“You’ll be getting married in the original chapel today. Beatrice should have told you what to expect, but first things first—if you have vows, you should get them out now.”
Stopped at the edge of the beautiful chapel, we were momentarily speechless at the sight before us. Set against the deep purple floor, the white wooden seats and walls and the pink and lavender stained glass windows were stunning. Just when I was about to speak, I caught sight of the garlands of red, pink, and blue flowers on the ceiling and the white-flower-bearing statues.
Jake squeezed my hand.
“We don’t have them, but I do have something to say.”
Charlene nodded.
“Let’s go to the front, and you can say away.”
Time slowed down as we processed up the aisle of the most beautiful room I’d ever been in. Every detail of the room stood out to me: the mirrored back wall, the glass celebration of a chandelier, the kissing doves on the stained-glass window, even the fire extinguisher tucked in the back. Then, finally, we were at the front, facing ourselves in the mirror, and Jake was speaking.
“I don’t know where to begin, Alice. I don’t know how to explain this to you—hell, how to explain it to myself. How years of loneliness, despair, and hopelessness were extinguished in a single night, by a single person. How I could have been so very wrong about so many things. Before I met you, Alice, there was a glass wall between me and the world. I saw what went on behind the wall but didn’t experience it; I judged it but never lived it.
“I thought I had mastered the game—that in not caring, in not risking enough to get hurt, I had beat the system, that I’d won. I’ve never cared much about anyone in my life, and no one has much cared about me either. And the worst part is, I thought I knew better; I thought disappointment was what relationships were all about, that all love was doomed to pass, that the joy it produced was never worth the pain.
