A Beautiful Wedding

“Nice choice,” Travis said, admiring his ring.

When it was Travis’s turn, he seemed to have trouble, and then slid two rings onto my finger: my engagement ring, and a simple, gold band.

I wanted to take a moment to appreciate that he’d gotten me an official wedding band, maybe even say so, but I was having an out-of-body experience. The harder I tried to be present, the faster everything seemed to happen.

I thought maybe I should actually listen to the list of things I was promising, but the only voice that made sense was Travis’s. “I damn sure do,” he said with a smile. “And I promise to never enter another fight, drink in excess, gamble, or throw a punch in anger . . . and I’ll never, ever make you cry sad tears again.”

When it was my turn again, I paused. “I just want you to know, before I make my promises, that I’m super stubborn. You already know I’m hard to live with, and you’ve made it clear on dozens of occasions that I drive you crazy. And I’m sure I’ve driven anyone who’s watched these last few months crazy with my indecision and uncertainty. But I want you to know that whatever love is, this has got to be it. We were best friends first, and we tried not to fall in love, and we did anyway. If you’re not with me, it’s not where I want to be. I’m in this. I’m with you. We might be impulsive, and absolutely insane to be standing here at our age, six months after we met.

This whole thing might play out to be a completely wonderful, beautiful disaster, but I want that if it’s with you.”

“Like Johnny and June,” Travis said, his eyes a bit glossed over. “It’s all uphill from here, and I’m going to love every minute of it.”

“Do you—” the officiant began.

“I do,” I said.

“Okay,” he said with a chuckle, “but I have to say it.”

“I’ve heard it once. I don’t need to hear it again,” I said, smiling, never taking my eyes from Travis. He squeezed my hands. We repeated more promises, and then the officiant paused.

“That’s it?” Travis asked.

The officiant smiled. “That’s it. You’re married.”

“Really?” he asked, his eyebrows raised. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

“You may now kiss your—”

Travis took me in both arms and wrapped me tightly, kissing me, excitedly and passionate at first, and then his lips slowed, moving against mine more tenderly.

Chantilly clapped with her petite, chubby hands. “That was a good one! The best one I’ve seen all week! I love it when they don’t go as planned.”

The officiant said, “I present to you, Ms. Chantilly and Mr. King, Mr. and Mrs. Travis Maddox.”

Elvis clapped, too, and Travis lifted me in his arms. I took each side of his face into my hands and leaned over to kiss him.

“I’m just trying not to have a Tom Cruise moment,” Travis said, beaming at everyone in the room. “I now understand the whole jumping on the couch and punching the floor thing. I don’t know how to express how I feel! Where’s Oprah?”

I let out an uncharacteristic cackle. He was grinning ear to ear, and I’m sure I looked just as annoyingly happy. Travis set me down, and then glanced around at everyone in the room.

He seemed a little shocked. “Woo!” he yelled, his fists shaking in front of him. He was having a very Tom Cruise moment. He laughed, and then he kissed me again. “We did it!”

I laughed with him. He took me into his arms, and I noticed that his eyes were a little glossy.

“She married me!” he said to Elvis. “I fucking love you, baby!” he yelled again, hugging and kissing me.

I wasn’t sure what I expected, but this definitely wasn’t it. Chantilly, the officiant, and even Elvis were laughing, half in amusement, half in awe. The photographer’s flash was going off like we were surrounded by paparazzi.

“Just a few papers to sign, a few pictures, and then you can start your happily-ever-after,” Chantilly said. She turned and then faced us again with a wide, toothy grin, holding up a piece of paper and a pen.

“Oh!” Chantilly said. “Your bouquet. We’re going to need that in the pictures.”

She handed me the flowers, and Travis and I posed. We stood together. We showed off our rings. Side by side, face-to-face, jumping in the air, hugging, kissing—at one point Travis held me up in his arms. After a quick signing of the marriage certificate, Travis led me by the hand to the limo waiting for us outside.

“Did that really just happen?” I asked.

“It sure as hell did!”

“Did I see some misty eyes back there?”

“Pigeon, you are now Mrs. Travis Maddox. I’ve never been this happy in my life!”