"It's just that the whole concept of marriage gets kind of screwed up sometimes," she said. "If I married you, I wouldn't want you to think that meant you owned me."
"Of course not," he said explosively. "Nobody owns anybody else."
"People think that way in some marriages," she said.
"Not me," he said. "And obviously not you either." He frowned. "I hope you're not suggesting that if we were married, and some hot guy came along, you'd want to have sex with him or something."
"No," she said, frowning herself. "But I'd like to be free to
want
to have sex with him, maybe."
"That's just weird," he said, but he smiled. "I don't think anybody can snuff out those kinds of urges, married or not."
"Have
you
wanted to have sex with anybody but me?" she asked. "Since we met, I mean?"
"Jessica is kind of cute," he said.
"That's not happening," she said firmly. "She's my best friend and besides, she and Mitch have something going on, as odd as that sounds."
"Hmmmm." The sound was drawn out. "So she has double standards. Interesting." He put his hands in his lap. "This isn't going at all like I thought it would. Perhaps I should withdraw the offer. It obviously makes you unhappy."
"Don't tell me when I'm unhappy!" she snapped. "I can decide for myself when I'm unhappy. This is a serious decision, that's all."
"It is," he agreed. "And I
am
serious about it."
She seemed to come unglued from the spot she'd been standing in and walked a few paces. Then she turned.
"Okay ... what if there were conditions?"
"Such as?"
"We'd have to be married in Las Vegas ... by an Elvis impersonator."
His eyes widened, then went back to normal. "I could live with that," he said.
"That's not all," she said. She paced some more and started listing her demands.
"You have to always do the dishes. I hate doing dishes." She took another step. "You have to teach Ambrose to put the seat down, and if he doesn't, you will be punished instead of him." He could see her gathering steam as her steps got wider and wider. She wasn't looking at him now. "You have to love me even when I have part of a Kleenex stuffed in my left nostril because my allergies are acting up. CDs must be alphabetized." She whirled and looked at him, obviously waiting for his reply.
"Dishes, toilet seat, allergies and CDs," he said, his face straight. "Got it."
Now it was her eyes that widened. "And on Tuesdays and Saturdays of alternate months beginning in 'J' I want you to wear only yellow," she said.
He blinked. "If you want to say no, just say it," he said softly.
"I didn't say I want to say no," she said, peering at him. "I just said these are some of the conditions you'd have to agree to if you want me to marry you."
"Some of the things," he said. "What else?"
It was obvious she was searching for more in her mind as she froze. Then she came to life again. "You have to fix my car if it breaks," she said, a little breathlessly.
"I don't know if I have those skills or not," he said.
"Then you'd have to learn," she said. She sounded desperate.
"And these things are important to you," he said, sounding doubtful.
"If you want to marry me, you need to know what you're getting yourself into," she said.
"But all this ... stuff ... it means a lot to you?"
"Would I set these conditions if it didn't mean a lot to me?"
"It just doesn't sound like you ... some of it, I mean."
"Like what?"
"Like yellow on Tuesdays and Saturdays of alternate months beginning in 'J.' That just doesn't seem like Lulu, somehow."
"Well, you obviously don't know me very well," she suggested.
"I know you well enough to know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he said calmly. "I thought that might be enough."
"That could be a long time," she said.
"Unless one of us gets hit by a bus tomorrow," he argued.
"We don't have buses in Pembroke," she said sharply.
He stood up.
"Honey," he said softly. "If you don't want to marry me, it's okay. I mean it's not okay for me, but I can live with it. I just don't want this to force a wedge between us. Marriage is supposed to bring us closer together, not drive us apart. It's okay for you to not want to get married."
"But I
do
want to get married!" she cried.
He looked shocked and his face fell. "Just not to me," he said. His voice was dismal.
"Of
course to you, you idiot!
" she wailed.
"I love you!"
Suddenly she rushed toward him, crashing into him and holding him tightly.
"I'm confused," he said, kissing her bald scalp.
"I just never wanted to get married before," she moaned. "I don't know what it means. I mean I don't understand what I'm supposed to
do.
"
"All you have to do is be yourself," he said, feeling relief flood through him. "Marriage doesn't mean we have to change. It just means we agree to stick together
as
we change."
"But I don't want anything to change," she moaned. "I love things the way they are right now."
"We can't keep change away," said Kris. "Look at me. One little incident changed everything for me. As best I can tell, it was good change, because it brought me to you. It was hard, but I'm sure glad it happened. And we can't help but change as more things happen to us. I just want to know that we'll try to make all those changes into something positive, that's all. That's really what marriage is all about. We'll pledge to work through the tough times and celebrate the good times. And if you're tempted by some hot, young trucker or something, I'll bring you home and spank you for having naughty thoughts and then make love to you for hours, until you decide that a dick in the hand is worth two in the truck or something."
"You're so silly," she sighed.
"I just love you," he said.
"I know," she sighed again. "I just made up all those goofy things to see if you were really serious."
"I am serious," he said.
"I'm having naughty thoughts about another man right now," she said softly.
"Oh? Who?"
"It doesn't matter," she said. "What are you going to do about it?"
She was on her knees, her head down and her cherry red buttocks raised high when he stopped and rolled her onto her back.
"Owwww," she complained.
"Be quiet," he growled. "I'm not finished yet."
"You better not be," she panted, spreading her legs wide. She drew her knees up, offering herself to him.
He mounted her and they both groaned as he stopped and rubbed her with his pubic bone.
"Did you really just make up all those conditions?" he panted.
"Mostly," she gasped.
He kissed her. "Good. That Elvis thing kind of spooked me."
She kissed him back and then, when they broke the kiss, she smiled and squeezed him with her internal muscles.
"That's the one part I was serious about."
Epilogue
The groom and best man stood, waiting at the end of aisle, dressed identically. They weren't wearing the traditional tuxedos, though. Instead, the casual observer might have assumed they were actors in a gangster movie from the thirties. They wore the pinstriped suits, with wide lapelled jackets, of that time period. But they must have been gentlemen gangsters, because they were wearing top hats instead of fedoras.
Even though the chapel was in the middle of a bustling city, it was relatively quiet in the cool interior. It didn't stay that way once the ceremony actually started, though. It seemed somewhat odd that the signal that started it was not organ music. Instead, it was the whirring motor sounds of an electric garage door opener.
A 1964 Cadillac convertible, painted so pink that you'd expect to see a real life Barbie in it, nosed into the chapel and inched down the wide main aisle. The driver was singing "Rock A Hula Baby" at the top of his lungs, in a very credible imitation of The King's long vanished voice.
He could have been any man, riding along, singing a song, but for three somewhat jarring things.
First, he not only sounded like The King, but he looked like Elvis too, in his white jump suit, covered in rhinestones and embroidery, with the signature high collar.
A native of Las Vegas normally wouldn't have given him a second look, to be honest. There were a lot of Elvis impersonators in Sin City. They would have looked twice at this one, though, because he had a little boy, wearing a top hat, standing on his lap, "driving" the car down the aisle. For some reason, this little boy felt compelled to yell
"Toot toot!"
as he delivered his mother to her groom. This little boy might have been mistaken for Elvis' son, because he was also wearing a rhinestone studded Elvis outfit.
The locals
would
have looked twice at the bride, standing on the floor of the passenger side of the convertible. She was wearing a white buckskin shirt that dipped low between her breasts and wrapped around her sides but left her back bare. A complex array of thin leather straps kept it on her, but didn't obscure the large tattoo on her back of a very naked Mother Nature. It was sleeveless, and left bare the fiery tattoo on her right shoulder as well. Below that, her hips were encased in a red pleated miniskirt which barely covered the tops of black fishnet thigh high stockings. Her top hat matched that of the ones worn by the groom, best man and "driver," except that hers was bright red and covered with crushed velvet. Blood red Converse high tops could be seen on her feet as she stepped out of the Caddy, holding a posy bouquet containing three red roses. She tugged gently at her miniskirt and waited for Elvis to unburden himself and escort her to her groom.
Ambrose hopped out of the car on the passenger side, landing on both feet with a thump and yelled,
"Yay!"
He held a teddy bear in his arms, also dressed as Elvis. Someone had fashioned a top hat for it as well.
Elvis formally offered his elbow to Lulu, who smiled at him and took it, walking beside him the last few feet it took to get to the rest of the wedding party. She thanked him and turned to hand her bouquet to Jessica, who was dressed in an outfit similar to the bride's, but in reversed colors. Her top was red, her miniskirt was white, and her dark legs set off the white of her fishnet stockings. Her top hat was black, like the men's, but was covered in crushed velvet like Lulu's. She took the bouquet and kissed her friend on the cheek.
The wedding was taking place in the Doo Wop Diner, a unique replica of a diner from the 1950s. A Wurlitzer juke box whirred to life, playing soft background music as Elvis gave Lulu's hand to Kris and took his place to officiate their wedding, which was being beamed out to the world live on the internet.
As bizarre as the visuals were, the ceremony itself was remarkably traditional. Elvis took the rings and described them as symbols of the love shared between Lulu and Kris, an unbroken circle made of precious metal that called to mind the precious nature of that love.
Their vows were simple and unique to their relationship. The bride went first.
"I promise to love you always, even when I'm mad at you, and spank you when you need it."
Kris grinned and took his turn.
"And I promise to love you always, even when you're mad at me, and spank you when you want it."
Elvis pronounced them married and began singing "Rags To Riches" while the couple kissed. They kissed for the entire song.
The best man and maid of honor decided to kiss too. Ambrose covered his eyes.
Twelve poses later, and with VHS video of their wedding in hand, Elvis delivered his signature "Thank you verruh much," and kissed the bride himself. He tried for just a little tongue, but got a stiff finger in his ribs instead. He'd just have to be satisfied with the $375.00 they had paid for the "Teddy Bear Wedding Package," the extra $150.00 for the use of the caddy, and another $130.00 for a single tier cake that would serve twenty.
"What now?" asked Mitch, leaning back in the limo that had delivered them to the wedding chapel and was taking them back to the hotel. Jessica was still wiping tears from her eyes. Mitch licked frosting from his finger, where he'd dug it into the cake he was carrying on his lap.
"I can't believe I'm married," said Lulu, an almost tremor in her voice.
"I have my hooks in you now, woman!" said Kris triumphantly. He made a claw of his hand and tried to put a leer on his face.
