We Can Still Run

  Featured in the October 22, 2008 Romance/Love Newsletter Issue #2678 

The top was down and the wind was blowing my hair everywhere.  The landscape flying by us was hot, dry, completely barren, and cleansing.  The kind of heat that you hoped would put an end to your thoughts and fears, give you a new perspective on life and a new start.

I propped my feet up on the car door and decided to hope for the best this time.  I said a little prayer and closed my eyes, enjoying the sun on my face.  I woke up a few hours later as we were pulling onto Las Vegas Boulevard.  The sun was setting and the neon was coming into its full glory.  As millions of pilgrims before us, we were in search of the county court house, in need of the all important, but certainly not elusive, marriage license.  Later that night, we emerged from the staid government building the proud owners of a slip of paper saying we could now legally tie the knot, again.

Yes, again.  We had been here before, well, not Vegas, but at the altar.  Three years ago we did the big white wedding; family, friends, tulle, oh yeah, lots of tulle.  Two years later we decided that marriage wasn't our thing and divorced but we never went our separate ways.  In fact, we stayed together, even stayed in the same house.  It was almost as if we didn't really know how to be apart.  It was an odd divorce to say the least.  Two days ago we got to talking and decided that maybe marriage was for us after all.  We hopped in the car, drove thousands of miles and now here we are, looking up and down the Vegas strip trying to decide which esteemed wedding establishment to patronize.

“So, where to?  The choices seem endless according to this little brochure,” asked Bruce.  “Callie, are you all right?”

“Oh, sorry just thinking.”

“You're not having second thoughts are you?”  Bruce was looking very concerned.  “It's okay if you are.”

“No, actually, I'm not even thinking about it.”  I smiled at him hoping he didn't see right through me, which he was able to do quite often.  I was nervous and the whole time we stood in line for the license I was trembling.  I didn't know why.  I wasn't this nervous the first time around so why now?  “Let's try the Little White Wedding Chapel.  Hopefully they can fit us in tonight.”  I gave him the best and most confident smile I could muster and off we walked.

The line wasn't long, I guess Tuesday at 2 am wasn't a big marrying time in this town.  According to the woman at the window we could say our I dos and be back in the car before sunrise.  It seemed a bit sad that this entwining of two lives was essentially now an unemotional rite conducted by two people who, while nice, didn't seem to care too much.  But since the big one didn't take, maybe this was the version we needed.  We paid and found two seats to wait for our names to be called.  I felt like I was at the dentist.

Our turn came faster than I expected it.  I had been distracting myself by imaging how all the other people arrived at the decision to marry tonight.  One couple was very easy.  She was about eight months pregnant.  They looked young and scared and were probably living in her parent's basement, sleeping on a foldout couch.  They might have been doing this for their baby or for her parents, it was tough to tell.  Another couple, well, they were drunk.  It was the liquor that led them to the Chapel.  They were proudly showing off their new wedding bands, which had been tattooed on just an hour before.  Classy.  I began to wonder what people thought of us.

“Bruce and Callie,” said a short rather robust woman who looked as though she had been poured into her very pink suit.  We looked at each other and for a second I wondered if Bruce was thinking the same thing I was - we can still run.  He smiled, grabbed my hand, and together we walked into the little chapel.  A few general instructions were given and then someone handed me a bouquet.  The flowers were plastic.  I wondered how many other brides had held these flowers today.  I wondered if they were just as scared.  The music began and as per my instructions I walked down the aisle, focused entirely on Bruce who was smiling at me, a sight which I loved.  Suddenly my nervousness disappeared.

I heard all the words, love, forever, all the standard things one hears at a wedding, and  things I had agreed to honor once before.  Somehow it was different this time, there were no family or friends, no dearly beloved, no cameras flashing.  It was just us.  At that moment it all made sense.  This was all about the two of us, just like it was supposed to be, just the way it had been for the last year which had been the best year of our life together.  The same man who had stood by my side through so much, laughed at all my bad jokes, ate my horrible cooking, and all I wanted to do was be his wife and love him.  I knew I wanted this for the rest of my life.  Right then I yelled out, “I do!”

The man who was marrying us stopped talking.  “My dear, we haven't gotten to that point yet but I do like your enthusiasm.”

Bruce was laughing so hard he looked as though he would cry.  We somehow managed to finish the rest of the ceremony through fits of laughter.  When it came time for the rings we passed, we didn't need any this time.  We were pronounced husband and wife for the second time and for the first time it felt right.  The music was cued and we strode down the aisle hand in hand out of the little chapel - two newly remarried people trying not to laugh.  We had to be an amusing site.

“Are you hungry?” asked Bruce, his face still a bit red from laughing.

“I'm starving!  Maybe we can find a place that has pancakes.”

“Pancakes it is.”

We made our way to the car and drove off in search of pancakes.

“Should we tell anyone?” I asked.

“Why?”

I thought about it for a second, he was right, why tell anyone.  This was just for us.  I smiled at him, “So, where do you think we can find pancakes around here?”

“Well, it's Vegas baby, probably anywhere,” he said as he put his arm around me.