SEVENTEEN
“Dearly beloved,” intones Elvis. “Uh-huh-huh. We are gathered here. Uh-huh-huh.”
Oh God. I’m going to get the giggles. Is he going to say “Uh-huh-huh” after every line?
He’s a pretty impressive Elvis. He’s in a black spangled suit, with the most massive flares and platforms and a really good wig (you can’t see his real hair at all), and he’s already sung “Can’t Help Falling in Love” with lots of reverb and pelvic thrusts.
It’s two days since we left Sedona, and we’re clustered in the Silver Candles Elvis Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas. Everyone’s overexcited—especially Minnie, who is dressed up as a “ring girl” even though there aren’t any rings. Suze is in a floaty white dress with a flower garland in her hair, and she’s never looked more beautiful. Mum’s sitting in the front pew and she’s already thrown a handful of confetti over Suze, although we haven’t started yet. (I found Mum and Dad at the bar of our hotel this morning, quaffing glasses of champagne. And judging by their bill, they’d each had more than one.)
“To witness the promise of renewed love between this couple. Uh-huh-huh.” Elvis surveys Suze. “I believe you have written your own vows.”
“That’s right.” Suze clears her throat and glances at Tarkie, who’s standing nearby, a look of huge pride on his face. “I, Susan, vow to you, Becky, always to be your friend.” She gazes seriously into my eyes. “For richer, for poorer, in daytime and at three A.M. And I swear this on my new cowboy boots.”
“Uh-huh-huh,” says Elvis with a nod.
“Hurrah!” Mum gives a whoop and throws some more confetti over Suze’s head.
“And I, Becky, swear to be your friend forever, Suze,” I say, my voice trembling slightly. “For richer, for poorer, in daytime and at three A.M. Let no one put us asunder.”
Especially Alicia Bitch Long-legs, I don’t say—but we all know that’s who I mean.
“I swear this on my new cowboy boots,” I add for good measure, and do a little twirl. I love my cowboy boots. I’m never wearing anything else, ever. And they’re brilliant for line dancing, as I discovered last night, because we went to a line-dancing bar. Suze insisted we go, and it was the best fun. Now I just need to get Luke to buy a pair of cowboy boots, and we’ll match.
(I already know this is never going to happen.)
“And I swear never to leave you, Suze.” Tarkie steps forward for his turn. He takes Suze’s hands and holds them tight. “I swear to love and protect you and keep you forever, as long as Owl’s Tower shall stand. Or longer, if it falls down,” he adds hastily, as he sees Suze open her mouth. “Much longer. Forever.”
“I vow to be your wife forever, Tarquin,” says Suze, her voice a whisper. “And to stay faithful only to you, my beloved husband.”
She looks like an angel in her wispy dress, her face all lit up with hope and love and relief. I feel a bit misty-eyed as I watch them, and I’m wondering if I have a tissue anywhere, when Luke rises to his feet.
“I want to make a vow to you, Becky,” he says, his deep voice filling the chapel, and I jolt in surprise. This wasn’t in the plan. We even talked about it and said, “Shall we?” and then laughed and decided we didn’t need to renew any vows. But here he is on his feet, looking almost startled at his own behavior.
And as I look into his face, I think I know why he’s doing it. It’s because of…stuff. Our own private stuff. What happened in L.A. Seeing Suze and Tarkie stumble and looking at our own marriage in that light. And, maybe most of all, hearing Suze’s news and realizing it’s not us, not this time. Last night, in bed, we talked about it. Way into the night. And…
Well. I can be honest with Luke the way I can’t with anyone else, even Suze. So. He knows.
“I vow…” Luke pauses, as though searching for the right words. I can practically see his mind riffling through possibilities and rejecting them. The truth is, I don’t think he’s going to find them. The truth is, he doesn’t need to find them.
“I know,” I say to him, and my throat is suddenly tight. “I know. I vow too.”
Luke’s eyes are locked on mine, and my head feels a bit swimmy and I wish we had this chapel to ourselves for a good few hours. But we don’t. So, somehow, I get my poise back and nod a couple of times and whisper, “Amen.” Which doesn’t really make sense, but, then, neither does anything else in Las Vegas.
“All righty!” says Elvis, who’s looking a bit confused by Luke’s interjection. “So. Ladies and gentlemen. Let’s love each other tender. Let’s have no more suspicious minds. Uh-huh-huh. By the power invested in me by—”
“Wait. I haven’t finished,” Luke interrupts. “Mother.” He turns to where Elinor is sitting in a back pew, in a black-and-white silk suit so elegant and perfect it makes me want to weep. We reconnected with her in Las Vegas this morning, and she was predictably unfazed by hearing all our plans. Now here she is, sitting upright and composed, with a pillbox hat perched over one eye.
(She always travels with a hat, it turns out. In fact, she was surprised that none of the rest of us had one.)
“I want to make a vow to you too,” Luke continues. “Things will be better between us. I promise.” He takes a deep breath. “We’ll spend time together. Holidays. Fun times. We’ll be a family. If…” He hesitates. “If you like that idea.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luke and his mother look so similar. They’re gazing silently at each other with those unmistakable dark eyes. His expression is taut and kind of yearning. And so is hers.
“I do.” She nods.
“And I do too!” exclaims Mum, who has definitely had too much champagne. “Of course Elinor’s part of the family.” She leaps to her feet and brandishes her confetti. “I, Jane Bloomwood, vow to honor and respect my son-in-law’s mother, Elinor. And my wonderful neighbor Janice.” She turns to Janice with tears in her eyes. “Janice, where would I be without you? You’re always there for me. In sickness and in health…when my ankle broke…that time the lights fused and you came to our rescue—”
“OK, we need to move on, folks.” Elvis is glancing at his watch. “Uh-huh-huh.” He turns to Suze. “Say after me, ‘I will not step on your blue suede shoes.’ ”
But Suze doesn’t even hear him. She’s too riveted by Mum and Janice.
“Oh, love,” says Janice, looking flustered. “Anyone would have done the same.”
“You gave us your shepherd’s pie, Janice! Your shepherd’s pie!”
“You said we weren’t doing vows.” Dad tugs at Mum’s dress.
“We’re not!” retorts Mum.
“Yes, you are! You’re making vows all over the bloody place!” he says hotly. “So I’m going to make one too.” Dad stands up and turns to face Mum. “I, Graham, swear never to leave you again, my darling Jane. Never.” He grabs Mum and holds her tight. “Never.”
“Enough!” Elvis definitely sounds tetchy. “Folks, you can’t all be making vows. You didn’t pay for this.”
“And I vow always to trust you,” says Mum to Dad, her voice quivering. “And I don’t care where your Big Bonus comes from—I’m proud of you.”
“No more vows!” Elvis practically yells, and at once Danny stands up, a wicked look in his eye.
“I have a vow,” he says brightly. “Elinor, I vow to make you a mind-blowing new wardrobe, if you’ll vow to wear me at the Met Ball.”
“By the power vested in me—” Elvis tries again.
“Sunglasses?” says Minnie, approaching Elvis. She offers him Janice’s white sunglasses, while pointing lovingly at his own spangly shades. “Like sunglasses? Pleeeease?”
“Jesus H. Christ!” Elvis erupts. “By the power vested in me by this chapel, I pronounce you committed to one another.” He sweeps a hand round. “All of you. You deserve each other. Fruit loops. Uh-huh-huh.”