Things I Want to Say (16 page)

When I came upon a small white church, I ducked inside. Apparently churches, like everything else in this town, never closed. If anyone said anything about the dog, we could leave, but until then I wanted the chance to sit in relative quiet and think.

The sanctuary was tiny, with a half-dozen wooden pews and a simple blue carpet. Arrangements of white gladiolas flanked a white pulpit and a simple gold cross hung on the wall behind this. I stared at the cross and prayed for calm to slow my racing heart.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you come in. Are you wanting the deluxe package or the Saturday-night special?”

I started and turned to see Elvis walking toward me. This Elvis had the expected white sequined jumpsuit and thick black pompadour hairdo, but his face was weathered and wrinkled, and he studied me from behind thick-lensed glasses. Grandpa Elvis.

“Excuse me, what did you say?” I asked.

“Did you want the deluxe wedding package? It comes with a video and a floral bouquet you can keep.” He looked around the otherwise empty room. “Will the groom be arriving shortly?”

“Groom? Oh no, I didn’t come here to get married!” I
laughed, amused that for the second time in a week I’d been mistaken for a would-be bride. I stood to leave.

“No, you don’t have to go.” He waved me back down and took a seat beside me. “It’s a slow night.” He smiled at Cocoa and reached out to scratch behind her ears. “So if you didn’t come in here to get married, why did you come in here?”

I pressed my lips together, debating answering. Why should this stranger care about me or what was happening in my life?

But then, I’d had more practice at trusting strangers this trip—Ruth and Martin, and even Alice who, though she’d been a dear friend to me at one time, was in many ways a stranger, as I’d discovered tonight. “I just wanted somewhere quiet. To think,” I said.

He nodded and looked up at the cross. “This is a good place for that. The world out there can get a little hectic.”

“Are you really a preacher?” I asked.

“Got a license on the wall back there that says I am.” He grinned again, a friendly, open smile as down-home as a grandpa should be. “Next you’re going to ask me what’s with the Elvis getup.”

I nodded. “How does a preacher end up in Vegas as an Elvis impersonator?”

“How does anybody end up anywhere? I came here in 1974 to get a divorce and ended up staying. This place grows on you.”

“I don’t think it would grow on me.”

“It’s not for everybody, I guess. So where is home, young lady?”

Again, I hesitated. But his grandfatherly concern—coupled with his ridiculous costume—broke through my normal reticence. “I live in California. Bakersfield. I’m not sure it’s home, though.” I smoothed my hands down my thighs. “I think I’m still trying to find the place where I fit.”

“Now see, you’re looking at it all wrong.” He angled his
body more toward me. “You’re looking for the space where you fit in like you’re a puzzle piece and only one certain slot will do. What you need to do is make a space for yourself. Understand the difference?”

“I…I’m not sure.”

“You find where you want to be, then you make it fit you, see?”

“That’s what you did?”

He nodded. “That’s what I did.” He looked around the chapel once more. “This life ain’t for everybody, but it suits me. You got to find what suits you. That might mean trying on a few places first.”

He made it sound easy, like buying a dress. “I’m good at shopping around,” I said.

“Then you won’t have any problem.” He patted my knee and stood. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“No. Thank you.” I stood and Cocoa and I followed him toward the exit. “Good night.”

“Good night. You come back when you find that groom. I’ll fix you up real nice.”

I smiled as I walked back to the hotel. Grandpa Elvis made life sound a lot less daunting, as if happiness was just a matter of tailoring the circumstances and situation to fit, the way you’d alter a suit.

And maybe he wasn’t so far off at that. I’d been looking for the place that was perfect for me, but I wasn’t perfect, so why should I expect a place to be? Maybe the idea was to find a place whose imperfections fit my own, and work on improving both at the same time.

“Are you okay?” I asked Alice as we stood in yet another buffet line for breakfast the next morning.

“Yeah. Just a little hungover.” Her smile was sheepish. “I promise you I don’t do that sort of thing often.”

“No harm done.” Our eyes met. “It’s going to be okay,” I said.

“I hope so.”

We decided to get out and see some of the sights of Las Vegas, so after settling Cocoa in the room and hanging the do-not-disturb sign on the door we once again joined the throngs on the sidewalks. The sun beat down like a giant tanning lamp and the heat was a physical weight pressing against us, but it didn’t seem to affect attendance at the fountains at Bellagio.

We stood and watched along with everyone else, taking respite in various boutiques, coffee shops and casinos along the Strip.

We passed the wedding chapel I’d visited the night before, and I told Alice about Grandpa Elvis.

“I think an Elvis wedding would be fun,” she said. “It’s probably a good sign if a marriage starts off with a sense of humor.”

I hadn’t thought about it like that before. “I guess I always thought a wedding should be a solemn, sacred affair,” I said.

“Maybe. Then again, it’s all the stuff that comes after you say ‘I do’ that determines how solemn or sacred it is. The wedding is just the party to get things started.”

I nodded. “I’ve always wanted a big, fancy wedding like the ones they show in bridal magazines.” The idea of being a fairy princess for a day appealed to me. But that was just a dream, and real life so seldom measured up to dreams. “I guess all I really want is to settle down with a good man. Everything else is just trimmings.”

“Then see? Elvis would be perfect. Especially a Grandpa Elvis. He sounds sweet.”

“He was sweet.” We paused at a crosswalk and waited for the light to change. I pulled my shirt away from my chest, hoping for a breeze to dry the sweat. “He told me that instead
of looking for a place where I fit in, I should find a place I liked and make it fit me.”

“Sounds like Grandpa is pretty smart.” She surprised me with a wink. “Besides, I think fitting in is overrated. It’s the noncomformists in the world who stand out. And they probably have more fun than the rest of us.”

The light changed and we crossed the street and passed in front of a brightly painted storefront.
Vegas Tattoo,
proclaimed the sign in bright pink neon.

“Did you know I have a tattoo?” Alice asked.

“No, you never mentioned that.” Not that I was shocked. Alice had always struck me as the type who’d try anything once. “What is it?”

“A hummingbird and some flowers.”

“And where is it?”

“On my right breast. Or where my right breast used to be. After I’d stared at the scar from my mastectomy for a year or so, I decided to put something beautiful there.”

“So you decided not to have reconstruction?”

“I just couldn’t face another surgery, and keeping the scar was sort of my badge of honor. My reminder of everything I’d been through, and that I was still here, still fighting.”

“Why a hummingbird?”

“Because they’re beautiful and look fragile, but they’re about the toughest creatures in nature.”

I smiled at her. “Like you.”

“At least the tough part.”

“The rest, too. You are beautiful, and to some people you probably look fragile.”

“But not to you?”

“I know better.” We reached the Venetian and followed the crowd inside. “I think it was really gutsy of you to decorate your scar that way.”

“We all have scars,” she said. “I just didn’t want to hide mine anymore.” She reached out and gave my hand a quick
squeeze. “I’m glad you know the truth about me and my kids, and I’m glad you understand. I was afraid you’d hate me if I told you.”

“I don’t hate you.” I didn’t really understand, either. How could a mother abandon her children that way?

Then a sharp pain of realization pinched at me as I thought of the way Frannie and I had left our mother after our father died. She’d seemed distant and uncaring at the time, but maybe that was only a way of walling off the hurt. Why hadn’t I thought of her that way before? Was it because Frannie had told me over and over that Mother didn’t need us?

Or because it was easier to believe that than to deal with my guilt?

I believed Alice was truly sorry for what she’d done, and that she’d suffered for it. “I’m glad you told me the truth. That took a lot of courage, too.” More than I’d ever had.

“It feels like a weight has been lifted, knowing you know.” She grinned at me. “We should celebrate.”

“No more mai tais or dirty martinis,” I said.

She laughed. “Not that kind of celebration. Tonight let’s put on our fancy new dresses and treat ourselves to a really nice dinner. We’ll see the show, then try some real gambling.”

“Real gambling?”

“Not those Mickey Mouse slot machines. Let’s hit the table games—blackjack, craps and roulette. We’ll flirt with all the handsome men and pretend we’re high rollers.”

My Vegas fantasy come to life. “Let’s do it.”

Martin called that afternoon while I was waiting for my turn in the shower. “I saw your number on my caller ID last night,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. We’re in Vegas.” I shoved Cocoa over and lay back on the bed, the phone cradled to my ear.

“Won any money yet?”

“No. I’m a terrible gambler.”

“So am I. Too conservative, I guess.”

I bit back a laugh. The man didn’t know conservative. He should meet Frannie, a woman who kept all her retirement money in a regular savings account because she didn’t trust the stock market. “Where were you when I called?” I asked, then immediately regretted the question. What business was it of mine?

“I had to deliver flowers for a funeral that was held this morning.”

“You do a lot of funerals,” I said.

“Weddings and funerals. The big events in most people’s lives.”

I thought again how different
our
lives were. Martin was so involved in his community, there for every milestone—at least in the form of the flowers he provided. In my condo in Bakersfield, where the sun shone most of the time and the weather was always perfect, I lived in a fantasy world, scripted drama and artificial occasions replacing real human events. I’d loved it because it was safe and predictable, but I realized now it was also a world where I never really had to
feel
anything—good or bad.

“I was thinking about something you said before,” I said. “When you suggested I open a retail business to go along with my movie work. I think I’d like that.”

“You’d be good at it,” he said. “You’re very empathetic.”

“How could you know that just from talking to me on the phone?”

“I heard what you and Alice did for Ruth. And you’ve told me how concerned you are for Alice. And you took in that stray dog.”

“Alice took in the dog. I just happened to be in the truck, too.”

“A minor detail. The thing is, you’re a warm and
compassionate person. It’s one of the things I like most about you.”

I wanted to ask him to list what else he liked about me but thought that would be too self-serving. “Thanks,” I said. “I really like you, too.”

“I’m glad to hear you say it. I hope we’re going to be friends for a long time.”

The words made me feel funny in the pit of my stomach. I sat up and took a deep breath. The bathroom door opened and Alice came out, rubbing her hair with a towel. “I have to go now,” I said. “It’s my turn in the shower.”

“The idea of us being friends shouldn’t make you nervous,” he said.

“Of course not!” I stood and began pacing. “That sounds great. I really do have to go.”

“Goodbye, then. Have fun tonight.”

“Bye.”

I closed the phone and laid it on the bedside table.

“Was that Martin?” Alice asked.

I nodded. My face felt hot and I covered my cheeks with my hands, trying to cool them.

“What did he say to get you so flustered?” Alice asked. She took a comb from the dresser and ran it through her spiky hair.

Pretty much everything Martin said left me flustered, trying to make sense of a tangle of feelings. “He said he wants us to be friends.”

“I thought you were already friends.”

I wet my lips. “But I think he really meant more than friends.”

She smiled at me in the mirror. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

I nodded again, feeling foolish and helpless and more than a little silly. “I think…” I hesitated, then tried again. “I think Martin is a little like Frannie’s prom dress.”

Alice laid down the comb. “Come again?”

I twisted my hands. “I’m not explaining this well at all. What I mean is that, well, you know how I told you Frannie hid her prom dress so our dad wouldn’t take it away?” She nodded.

“I think…I think I still do that sometimes. When I really, really want something I try not to let it show. In case something happens to take it away.”

A soft look of sympathy filled her eyes. “And you really want Martin.”

“I think so. Yes.”

She turned and put her hand on my arm. “Then don’t give in to your fear,” she said. “You’ll be okay.”

I took a deep breath. “Yeah.” I wanted to believe that. I wanted to believe that I would be okay—that the future would be a happy one, even better than any fantasy I could create. I wanted to believe, but I hadn’t had much practice yet.

Alice and I put on our slinky sequined dresses and highest heels, coiffed our hair and used every trick in our cosmetics bags. Afterward, we stood side by side and studied our reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Are we a couple of hot babes or what?” Alice asked.

“We’ll have to fight the men off,” I said, half believing it as I stared at the glamorous, skinny version of myself I’d only imagined before now. Despite all the weight I’d lost and all the new clothes, most of the time when I looked in the mirror I still saw a plainer, plumper version of me that I now realized was firmly in the past.