Kirsten is sitting on a bench in her white dress, covering her face with her hands.
‘I’m mortified. Don’t talk to me.’
Taking a seat next to her, I don’t say a word at first. “I should probably apologize, Kirsten.”
“You don’t have to, Dad. I’m not mad. I feel terrible…”
“Why do you feel terrible, love? Everything you did was done in good will. I’m actually quite relieved that this isn’t real.” Looking at the white chapel, I spot the red sign that she mentioned earlier. How did I possibly miss that?
“You’re not mad I made you come all this way for nothing?” she asks, sniffing as she dries her tears.
‘I’m sorry you thought you needed to go through all of this trouble just to get me here.’
‘That’s not it,’ she mumbles.
‘No, I should have been here sooner, Kirsten. And I don’t mean in Vegas.’
Finally, she looks up at me, tears soaking her cheeks. It’s hard to remember the little version of Kirsten, the blue-eyed, curly-haired toddler I struggled with at such a young age. But I know she’s still in there. And even though her and I are both twenty years older now, I’m still struggling.
‘I’m sorry I stayed in London for so long. I should have come with you. I shouldn’t have missed a moment.’
‘Dad, it’s not your fault,’ she says, resting her head on my shoulder.
‘So, what was this all about then, Kirsten?’
‘I just wanted to get you out of your comfort zone. You’re so focused on doing the right thing that you never do what you want.’
‘I do what I want. Taking care of you is what I want.’ It’s so nice to have her close, so I drape an arm over her shoulder and kiss the top of her head.
‘Dad…’
‘What?’
‘I wanted you and Laila to take that trip together because I knew that you two would make a good pair. She could loosen you up a little, and she could use a little structure.’
‘Listen, Kirsten. I like Laila a lot, but it’s not appropriate. And why would she want an old man like me when she could have anyone she wanted?’
‘Oh my God, Dad! Even I can admit you’re a catch! You’re not even that old, and you deserve to live a little too.’
‘And what if we do date? That wouldn’t bother you? What if we break up?’
‘What makes you think you’d break up?’
‘Because I’ve never been in a real relationship before, Kirsten.’ It’s at this moment I realize normal dads aren’t supposed to have these conversations with their daughters, but I guess we’ve never really been normal. In a lot of ways, Kirsten and I grew up together. I was practically a kid when she was born, and we’ve been struggling through this life together ever since.
We sit in silence for a moment before I let out a heavy sigh and relax against the back of the bench. ‘What was that for?’ she asks.
‘I’m so fucking relieved you’re not getting married.’
A laugh bubbles out of her which is nice since she’s not crying anymore.
‘Don’t get me wrong. Andy is a great guy, but you don’t need to rush this. What’s the hurry? Just keep being the fun, wild, beautiful girl you are.’
With a blush, she wraps an arm around my shoulders and I pull her against my chest to hug her close. ‘Thanks, Dad.’ When she pulls away, she smiles at me. “Does this mean my plan to get you and Laila together worked?”
I shake my head at her with a lazy smile.
When we get back into the chapel, the mood has lightened and Kirsten takes a moment to say a few words to everyone. My eyes keep landing on Laila who is biting her nails. The collection of bracelets around her wrist is gone, and instead of a band T-shirt and tight leggings, she’s in a floor-length pink dress that gathers at her hips. It’s the first time I’ve been able to properly look at her, and after a moment, she catches me looking.
Our eyes meet for a moment, and we both look away. There’s not an inch of her body that I haven’t seen, touched, or licked in the last forty-eight hours, but all of a sudden, with the actual prospect of making her mine, I find myself nervous to talk to her. What if she doesn’t want to make a go of this? What if it was all a fun romp in the hay, her taking advantage of the situation, being spontaneous, and I’m looking too much into it?
Since Kirsten and Andy already paid for their fake wedding, they decide to go through it after all and get their picture with Elvis and a signed fake certificate. The whole thing is quite laughable, now that I can actually laugh about it.
After the fake ceremony, we head back to the hotel where we proceed to all get as drunk as possible in the hotel bar. After about three shots, I finally work up the nerve to pull Laila onto the dance floor where I embarrass her with my terrible dance moves.
“Aren’t you glad that whole thing was fake?” she asks as I twirl her around the dance floor. The music is shit, something new and erratic, but I’m too drunk to care as I wind one arm around her waist and pull her close.
“I’m the happiest man on earth right now,” I reply, and she laughs.
“You’re not mad that the whole trip was for nothing?”
“Was it for nothing?” I ask, stopping our dance to look her in the eye.
“No,” she mumbles, pulling my body back to hers. “It was fun.”
Fun? Is that what she thinks? It occurs to me at that moment Laila could be having doubts about me, and after what I said to her yesterday morning in the cabin, who could blame her? But if I’m going to spill my heart for her, I should probably do it when I’m sober. Tonight is not the time.
Kirsten cheers for us when I dip Laila during a song that definitely doesn’t call for a dip. By the end of the night, we stumble to our rooms. When it comes time for Laila to decide what room she’s going to, Kirsten literally shoves her in my direction as she grabs her own boyfriend, and I grumble a complaint about not wanting to know what they will be up to.
Laila and I proceed to have very drunk, uncoordinated, messy sex before we both pass out sideways on the bed.
When I wake up in the morning, she’s gone.
