The Chapel Wars

by Lindsey Leavitt

  “It’s here … look. Don’t be mad. Or be mad, whatever. I’m just … I’m a little drunk. Maybe not even drunk, but I had enough to drink that I shouldn’t drive. And I would call a cab but I don’t want to leave my car in a casino parking lot thirty minutes from my house.”

  I rolled my eyes. Sober or not, he had to know how losery this situation was. “We’re coming. Stay there.”

  I hung up and stared at the phone.

  “I’m not going,” Sam said. “This guy is a dick. It’s almost morning.”

  “It is morning. I guess we’re just waking up early today. I need you to drive me so I can get Dax and his car.”

  Sam hit his head against a throw pillow. “I don’t want to.”

  I held up my pinky finger. “Friendship ring says you do. I can’t leave him stranded.” I slapped his leg. “Come on.”

  “You know if I hadn’t broken up with Camille I wouldn’t be here to help you out.”

  “I have to pee. Warm up the car.”

  I changed into a nicer hoodie and yoga pants, brushed my teeth and hair, and pushed Sam to his car. Red Rock Casino is a locals casino, close to Red Rock Canyon, only ten minutes from my house. The mystery was why Dax was there, when there were twenty other casinos closer to his house. Or why he was at a casino at five in the morning, period.

  We found Dax on the roof deck of the parking lot, lying on the hood of his car, arms open, legs wide. Asleep.

  Sam screeched his tires and barged out of his truck. “I drove down. I get the honors.” He slapped Dax on the shoulder. “Hey, buddy.”

  Dax shot up and looked around wildly.

  “Sam, stop,” I said, annoyed.

  “You have a little too much to drink again? Need your girlfriend to bail you out again?”

  Dax lay back on his hood and closed his eyes. “Sam. Thanks for helping me out this fine evening.”

  “Do you know how good you have it?” Sam got up in Dax’s face, but Dax just lay there all serene, a little smile on his lips. “Holly is like my sister, you punk. It’s Valentine’s Day and you’re hanging out here, instead of with her?”

  Dax propped himself up on his elbows. “You’re right, man. I messed up. I’m not going to argue with you because there is nothing to argue.”

  Sam looked confused. “Well, yeah, right. There isn’t.”

  “Don’t worry.” Dax patted Sam’s shoulder. “Tonight sobered me up plenty.”

  “Well, I mean, whatever.” Sam yanked his arm away from Dax. “I’m not trying to give you a public service announcement here. Just get it together.”

  Thankfully, Dax saw how serious Sam was and did not salute him. I couldn’t handle another person getting punched in the face today, especially when the person was my boyfriend. My drunk boyfriend. Every girl’s fairy-tale Valentine’s dream come true.

  Sam helped Dax off the hood of the car and into the backseat. Dax handed me the keys. “So, you drive me home and Sam takes you back?”

  “No. You can come over to my house to sober up, then drive yourself home in the morning. Or afternoon.”

  Dax slumped against the backseat window. I thought he was asleep until he finally said something. “I sabotaged this, didn’t I?”

  “This?”

  “Us.”

  I didn’t look back at him. “I don’t know, today was a really insane day in, like, every avenue of my life, and I need to process what is going on.”

  Dax nodded and looked back out the window. Two minutes later he said, “I meant it, you know. When I said I love you.”

  I tried to keep my voice calm, but all that came out was a whisper. “You did?”

  “Absolutely. I’m in love with you,” Dax said, all matter-of-fact. “Deeply, madly, wonderfully, truly, irrevocably … I’m sorry, I’m slightly intoxicated, so those are the only adverbs I can come up with right now. But I am. To the point it hurts. Hurtily? That’s not a word, is it?”

  “You are drunk.”

  “Honestly. Painfully. Truthfully. Regrettably. That’s, like, ten, so I can’t be that drunk.”

  I paused, a beat, an eon. It’s just, he knew he was going to say that, he had all the buildup and could plan out the timing and words. Words aren’t as smudgeable as feelings. Once something is said, it’s forever said, and this wasn’t the time. It wasn’t my time.

  “Dax, I don’t want it to be like this.”

  “Me drunk? Or me in love?”

  I glanced at him, in the rearview mirror. I wanted him to be more but I could accept that he was less, as long as this following-in-his-alcoholic-grandfather’s-footsteps ended now. He looked like a knight who had taken an arrow in battle, pale and hunched over, with a brave face. “Why were you at Red Rock? You said you’d call, you’re drunk, I’m driving you to my house … what happened?”

  Dax’s expression went stoic. “No reciprocation to my declaration. You’re tough, Nolan.” He splayed himself across the backseat. “I promise I had plans to be a decent person this evening. I was going to surprise you, I didn’t even know with what yet, but I was thinking about it all week. I’m not saying this to get points, because an I-was-going-to means nothing if there is no outcome. But then I got that phone call and your brother got in the fight. When I went back to our chapel, we had a busy day, a real busy day, and Poppy said he wanted to take me out to celebrate.”

  “Did you get the message I left on your voice mail?” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “We had a good day too.”

  “Yeah. I got it.” He paused. “That’s great. Let’s talk about that in a bit.”

  “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “No, ma’am. Never be sorry.”

  We were almost to my house now, and my hands were slick against the steering wheel. Mom wasn’t going to be okay with me bringing Dax home at 5:30 in the morning. What would we even do, sit on the couch? I glanced in the rearview mirror. Dax’s eyes were half-closed, his arm crossed over his chest.

  “Hey, it’s almost sunrise. Let me take you somewhere and we can talk. My house probably isn’t a good idea with you like this.”

  Dax gave a sloppy salute. I drove over to the lake and to my spot. I didn’t get ceremonial as I led Dax to my little patch of grass. I didn’t tell him how special this spot was to me, how I’d never brought someone I liked (loved?) here before.

  Dax lay in the dead grass while I got us both water bottles and little doughnuts at the minimart. He smiled when I handed him the drink.

  “Thanks. I’m seriously feeling better now. Physically. I was just playing some slots after my grandpa left, and this cocktail waitress kept offering me free drinks and didn’t even card me. I’m not stumbling drunk, just I-shouldn’t-drive drunk.”

  “But you drink often enough that you know your levels of drunk,” I said.

  Dax bit into a doughnut, white powder on his lips. “I haven’t had anything to drink since that party. I’m not like that. Not like this. It’s just my world came crashing down a little tonight, and when you’re cloaked in despair, a free Jack and Coke sounds like a nice idea.”

  “Why were you cloaked in despair?”

  “I’ll tell you, but come lie down first. We need a happy moment.”

  I settled into the crook of his arm. He smelled like casino. Underneath that, he smelled good. Like Dax.

  “Look at the sun.” He pointed at the horizon. “That’s a good one.”

  The sunrise was much more than a good one. The sky glowed, all oranges and pinks, the clouds wisps and whispers. I hadn’t visited my spot enough lately. I slid my hand under Dax’s shirt and felt the hair I’d seen yesterday, felt the lines on his abs. He cupped my face and gave me a tender kiss. He tasted like wintergreen gum and whiskey, or what I guessed whiskey tasted like.

  “Do you like it here?” I asked.

  He rubbed my hair. “I like anywhere with you.”

  “This is my spot.” I tickled his arm. “My number-one favorite place in the city of Las Vegas. If you don
’t love it here, you are a heartless fool.”

  “Hey, it’s great. Yellow grass. Green water.”

  “I come here. To think. Count things. Be alone. Be happy.” I lowered my voice. “You’re the first person I’ve brought here.”

  He raised his neck and looked at me sideways. “If this place is so important to you, maybe we should leave.”

  “Why?” I sat up. “I thought we needed a happy moment.”

  He picked at a piece of grass. “That’s about to end.” He sighed. “Holly. First I want you to know I told you I love you, well, because I love you. But also because once you hear this, I don’t want you to think I didn’t.”

  The cloak of despair Dax had mentioned drooped over my shoulders. I brushed some dirt off my pants. “Fine. Let’s go in the car and you can tell me.”

  I buckled into the driver’s seat, like we were going somewhere, and set my face to stone. This was it. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it would be bad. And I’d totally set myself up for this moment—taking Dax to special places, feeling special because of him. This was the consequence of being in a relationship, of letting myself like. Love. “Okay. Go ahead. What did you do?”

  He grimaced. “Whoa. No. That’s not what this is. Man, you are fierce. I would be turned on right now if I didn’t have the world’s worst news.” He pulled his seat back into reclining position and looked up at the ceiling. “The reason my grandpa took me to Red Rock was to celebrate. I mean, he picked the sushi restaurant because he knew he’d get our dinner comped, but he was celebrating because he sold his wedding chapel.”

  “What?” I shot up and smacked my head against the window. “Why? When?”

  “How?” He shook his head. “He was always going to sell it. That’s what I found out last night before Bellagio.”

  “Dax, no. That’s awful.” I tore off my seat belt and grabbed his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “What did it matter? I have no say.” He shrugged me off. “It’s my job, but it’s Poppy’s chapel.”

  “But that’s your place. Your Vegas home.”

  “It is. It was.” Dax looked out the window. “Poppy is making so much money on the deal that he promised to buy me a new place. Buy my mom a new house. Send me wherever I want to go to college. He’s going to be a millionaire.”

  I snorted. “Sorry, but Cupid’s Dream isn’t worth that much.”

  “No, but when you add in that Thai place, Angel Gardens, the tattoo parlor, that skuzzy hotel on the corner … Poppy has quietly bought everything but your chapel and the half-finished condos for two blocks. That’s what I found out today.”

  “Who would want that? It’s Strip wasteland.”

  Dax didn’t look at me. “Poppy made a big gamble that paid off. He sealed the deal with Stan Waldon today.”

  “The hotel guy?”

  “Yeah. Waldon sold out of his last venture, and now he’s looking to revitalize the north side of the Strip. He’s the one who owns those sky-rise condos behind us that were never completed. Wants to tear those down and build a new casino called the Phoenix, like he’s metaphorically rising from the ashes.”

  My voice was small. “How big is this place?”

  “You know those casinos. There’ll be a hotel and pools and upscale shops and parking garages. It’ll stretch from Sahara over past the Stratosphere.”

  “But my chapel … my chapel is there too.”

  Dax finally did look at me, but when he did I wished he hadn’t. His expression said everything before his mouth did. “It’s not going to matter how much money you raised. If Stan Waldon wants your land, he’s going to get it. There is nothing you or me or your friends or anyone in Las Vegas can do about it. Y’all are done.”

  Chapter 21

  I drove Dax home in frigid silence. I didn’t care if he loved me anymore, I didn’t care if anyone loved me, because the thing I loved the most was going to be taken away from me, and Dax shared blood with the person doing that.

  I would burn down my own chapel before I let Victor or Stan what’s-his-name touch it. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t fair. Grandpa wrote me the letter; I followed all the instructions. Raise the money, the problem would be fixed. Cause and effect. How were things not fixed now? How was it that I gave everything to that place, poured my soul onto that marble floor, only to have it vacuumed back up?

  When we got to Dax’s house, I slammed his car door shut and tossed him his keys. Without saying anything, I turned around and started walking to the corner. The bus stop was 1.6 miles away. I’d clocked it in Dax’s car.

  “Where are you going?” he called after me.

  “Bus.”

  “You’re not taking the bus. Come in. I’ll have my mom take you home.”

  “No.”

  “Holly,” Dax shouted. “Be fair. I’m dealing with this too. You have to talk to me.”

  “And say what?” I whirled around. “Say what, Dax? That it’s okay? That I’m fine?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then tell me what to say.” I stomped over until I was inches from his neck, peering up into his stubbly, perfect face. “Tell me what to do. Because it won’t matter. Nothing will matter. You try and you work and dream … and people … still die.”

  Dax tried to put his arms around me but I pushed him away.

  “You really need to stop blaming me,” he said.

  “Yeah, well it feels a lot better yelling at you than yelling at the sky.”

  “The sky?”

  “At my grandpa, you idiot. Chilling on his cloud. Doing nothing while his empire crumbles. You’re right, he is a prick. Leaving me this. Leaving me period.” I crouched down on the driveway and swallowed. Swallowed, swallowed, swallowed like tears came out of my throat and I could somehow keep them back. Hoover Dam couldn’t keep them back.

  Dax knelt down next to me. I buried my face in my hands and cried, sobbed, for the first time since my grandfather died. For the first time since I fell in love. For the first time since my parents got divorced. I’d cried at some point before, but not a flood. Not this river.

  “I failed. I failed.” I hiccuped. “I should have … I should have …”

  “Shhh.” Dax stroked my hair. “You did every ‘should have’ you could.”

  “I hate your grandpa.”

  “Don’t hate him. Don’t hate Stan Waldon. Hate Vegas. This is just how Vegas is. Nothing stays the same.”

  “Fine. You win. I hate Vegas too.” I wiped at my nose. “We should move to Detroit.”

  “Detroit? You think things are better in Detroit?”

  “No. Camille just said that’s where you go if you run away.”

  He brushed at my cheek. “You can’t run away. Not from this. Believe me.”

  I pushed my sleeve over my fingers and pressed on my eyes. They throbbed underneath the pressure. “So that’s why you got drunk. Good reason.”

  “There’s never a good reason to get drunk. I was being stupid. If I was a real man, I would have called you and told you the news right away.”

  “Daxworth Cranston, you might have some problems, but you don’t need to worry about being a real man. You have way too much facial hair.” I let out a shaky sigh. A neighbor walked by with his dog and gave us a weird look. I didn’t have the energy to flip him off. “ ‘Kay. I’m done. Thanks. You’re a good person, even with that stupid name.”

  “Always so liberal with the compliments.” He paused. “I’d give you a hug but you still look like you might punch the next person to touch you.”

  “Yeah, I don’t do well with emotions when I’m emotional.”

  “A handshake?”

  “How about a wave?”

  Dax hopped up. “I’ll have my mom make us waffles before she takes you home.”

  “Waffles can’t fix this.”

  He offered his hand. “Nothing will fix this, fixer. But waffles won’t hurt it either.”

  Donna and I met with the bank two weeks late
r. Without the remaining balance of the balloon payment, they would not refinance our loan. We had to pay the loan back in entirety, or we went into default and the bank would repossess the property in thirty days.

  I kept hearing the “fault” part of “default.”

  When I broke the news to our employees, Mom started looking for a new job and Donna started looking for a loophole.

  “I’m going through every paper your grandfather owned.” Donna marched down the steps of the bank. “I need to look over the deed again. There is money somewhere. There is something we aren’t seeing that is going to change everything.”

  “I hope so,” I said. “Without the Rose of Sharon, what are we?”

  “Unemployed,” Donna grumbled.

  “How much money do we have now, liquid?”

  “Forty-three thousand,” she said. “Which is about thirty thousand more than your grandpa usually had.”

  I scrunched my nose. “Do you have a rich brother or anything? Someone we can get a loan from?”

  Donna grew thoughtful. “I do have some investor friends who live in Las Vegas Country Club. Rick is ancient and Mandy loves to spend his money. Maybe I could make a cause out of it for them. Save the Rose of Sharon, that stuff.”

  We stopped in front of Donna’s car. “I still don’t understand how Victor and Waldon can just do this to us.”

  “It’s not a surprise.” Donna pulled her door open. “Victor Cranston is a snake, so he can’t help but act like a snake.”

  I bit at a hangnail. “I guess.”

  Donna rested her hand on my shoulder. “I just hope that grandson of his isn’t a part of this.”

  I pulled back. “Of course he isn’t. He was the one who told me.”

  “Right. And how did Victor Cranston find out we were in financial distress? Real distress? How does the bank already have third-party interest when we still own the place? If Waldon wasn’t trying to buy that place, the bank would have been happy to take our money and give some kind of extension.” Donna ducked into her car. “I’m just asking questions. But you probably should be asking them too, sweetie.”