A Change In Plans

By Thomas A. Cummings

Pete felt from an early age that he was born for the married life. He thought he had finally found the “perfect” girl. Little did he know that on his wedding day he would have, “A Change in Plans,” by way of being stranded at the altar with only a note left behind by his would-be bride. In an effort to uplift his depressed state, his friends strongly encourage him to still take advantage of his honeymoon trip to Las Vegas. The empty seat on the plane where his wife should have been is occupied by a mysterious woman named Elizabeth. She reveals that she is taking the trip in order to claim her deceased father’s body. Shortly after arriving at the airport, Pete unknowingly finds himself kidnapped by a local mobster, confronted by the FBI, and chased by the police all on the first day of what was to be his honeymoon. With the FBI and the mobster hot on their coattails, Pete and Elizabeth discover that they must work together in order to find their own individual redemption before it is too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Apr 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483407708

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www.ThomasACummings.com

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1 The Hot Air Balloon Predicament

Chapter 2 The Beginning

Chapter 3 Having A Drink With The Reverend

Chapter 4 The Wedding, Sort Of…

Chapter 5 The Fleeting Beetle

Chapter 6 The Aftermath Of Christina’s Leaving

Chapter 7 Back To Work & The Unexpected Proposal

Chapter 8 The Tunisia Campaign

Chapter 9 The Airport

Chapter 10 Pre-Board

Chapter 11 Boarding

Chapter 12 The Flight

Chapter 13 Baggage Claim

Chapter 14 Snatch & Grab

Chapter 15 A Meeting With The Frenchman

Chapter 16 Frustration, Questions, & A Smashing Time

Chapter 17 The Mirage Hotel

Chapter 18 The Thumb Drive

Chapter 19 The Man In The White Hat

Chapter 20 The Music Box, Ring-Ring

Chapter 21 Behind Door Number Three

Chapter 22 The Problem With Wildfire

Chapter 23 The Richness Of Music

Chapter 24 Some Aggravation, A Discovery, And A Dash Of Sass

Chapter 25 No Tap Dancing In This Place

Chapter 26 The Way Not To San José

Chapter 27 A Sprinkled Donut, And A Warm Cup Of Lies

Chapter 28 A Guided Tour Or A Whore, Your Choice

Chapter 29 The Peeping-Tom Elephant

Chapter 30 Are You Kidding Me? There’s No Resting At The Rest Stop?

Chapter 31 A Morning Of Discovery, And Deceit

Chapter 32 A Little Hot Air, A Little Catch-Up, And A Whole Lot Of Determination

Chapter 33 Heading Back And No Ice Cream Until After Dinner

Chapter 34 A Dog Fight At The Cat House

Chapter 35 Trying To Stay Alive In The Bee Hive

Chapter 36 I’ll Take Door Number 3, No Door 2, No Door 1…

Chapter 37 Who Doesn’t Have A Gun?

Chapter 38 A Wash & Tumble, Hold The Starch

Chapter 39 Jackpot

To the love of my life, Marisa

And to my grandmother, Margaret "Nannie" Rogalski

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To Marisa, for putting up with my wild and crazy imagination. As well as for your unyielding encouragement throughout the writing process.

For my knowledge of the specific locales in Las Vegas and the surrounding areas, I wish to thank my parents, Tom and Sandy, for providing the many vacations to the sunny desert oasis.

Thank you to Marcia, for your help with grammar and semantics. Without your numerous suggestions for the use of a comma or semicolon; I would have sentences that would exceed well beyond the page.

To Russell’s Photography, for working their magic yet again. A special thank you to Michele for waiting through the many outbursts of laughter while trying to take a photo.

I would like to give a big thank you to the wonderful staff of Lulu Publishing Inc. for the publication of this novel.

I would like to thank Michael McIrvin for copyediting my second novel.

And finally thank you to everyone for providing their support in making this novel happen.

Experience is one thing you can’t get for nothing.

Oscar Wilde

CHAPTER ONE

The Hot Air Balloon Predicament

Pete grumbled but did not open his eyes as Elizabeth shouted, Pete, wake up! Wake up! She tugged on his shoulders, lifting him off the floor a few inches, but he slumped back to the floor, unconscious, when she released him.

Elizabeth, frustrated, stood and pulled her auburn hair away from her face to get it out of her eyes. She looked out on the sun rising over a desert, and she could make out mountains in the distance. She would have enjoyed the sight of the first light of day on the red and deep orange sandstone cliffs below her if any of this made sense, if the danger was not foremost in her mind. She looked down at Pete, raised her right leg, and slammed her bare foot down hard on his stomach.

He sat up, screaming in pain but making no sense. Cauliflower mashed potatoes aren’t real mashed potatoes! He rubbed his chest and looked at her as if he had just realized the source of his pain. What the hell did you do that for? My chest hurts!

You wouldn’t bloody wake. I tried shaking you a bit, said Elizabeth in her snappy British accent.

Geez, you could have tried shaking me a little more. I think you broke a rib.

Oh, grow a pair, would you? You’re lucky I didn’t slam you in the chest with my elbow. But now is not the time for jabbering about nonsense. We need to get out of this mess. It looks like we are near a canyon, said Elizabeth, looking out over the edge of the basket.

Pete could not bring himself to concentrate on anything but the drum pounding in his head to the rhythm of the throbbing he was experiencing in his abdominal area. Where the hell are we? Pete finally thought as he took in his immediate surroundings. The walls that surrounded him were interwoven lines of a thick material that resembled the texture of his wicker patio furniture. The material was light brown, and when he reached out to touch the wall to his right, it was smooth in some areas and frail in others. He stood quickly and took in the sunrise over the desert.

His voice squeaked as he inhaled. Then he barked, Oh, my God! We are in a hot air balloon!

Thanks for that report on the obvious. Stay tuned and we’ll explain why placing one’s hand in a waffle iron can cause burns. I’ll save you the effort of another brilliant discovery… WE’RE HUNDREDS OF FEET IN THE AIR!

Pete looked at Elizabeth with panic in his eyes. His brow furrowed, his left eyebrow raised in concern. He took the one step he could to the other side of the basket and slowly peered over.

Oh, my God! he shouted. How the hell did we get up here?

Oh, I thought it would be quite romantic if we took a morning balloon ride to get you in the mood, said Elizabeth, her tone thick with sarcasm.

No need to be nasty about it. I was just asking. Panic had given way to anger in his expression, but then fear returned almost immediately as he stared down at the desert passing below them.

Sorry, said Elizabeth softly. I’m just scared because I don’t know how we are going to get down from here let alone get back to where we were before we were knocked unconscious."

I remember being backhanded in the face, said Pete. My face is still throbbing. He ran his hand gently over his left jaw.

Your face does look a bit swollen, and the man who hit you was wearing a ring. He left the mark of it on your cheek.

Pete now ran his finger over the cut that was near his cheekbone. It stung at his touch and he felt the dried blood that had coated the cut.

You’ve got a mark on your face as well. I’m guessing you were hit too, said Pete.

Elizabeth had already investigated the swollen area just under her left eye. She ran her hand over it again now, hoping there was no permanent damage to her cream-colored skin.

But you don’t have a cut, so that’s a plus, said Pete, sensing her worry about her looks.

Splendid. We need to figure out how to land this contraption.

Good luck with that. I’ve never been in a hot air balloon before, said Pete.

Well, you claim to be an educated man. Perhaps you can assist me in figuring it out.

You’re British. Isn’t this type of stuff right up your alley? You know, daring escapes, leaps from rooftops, driving expensive cars and yachts.

That’s James Bond, you idiot! Just because I’m British doesn’t mean I’m a spy, not to mention Bond is a fictitious character! Now I’ll sock you one right on the mouth if you don’t help me, said Elizabeth, peering through her raised arms as she tried to stop the burners from blowing hot air.

It looks like the string that controls the lever to allow the flames to burn has been singed off, she said, squinting up at the burner. She made a gallant attempt to reach the blackened rope, but each time she had a firm grasp, the burnt rope would crumble in her hands. Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do, said Elizabeth, her hands on her hips as she stared at her companion. I’m going to lift you up, and you are going to tug on the rope until the flame dies out."

I certainly am not going to do that, retorted Pete.

Of course you are. I can’t get a firm hold of the rope, and with your barbarian-sized claws, I’m sure you can do better.

I am not letting you lift me on to your shoulders while we are this high off the ground, said Pete, folding his arms against his chest. Besides, your matchstick legs couldn’t possibly hold me.

Elizabeth could only stare at him, her glare composed of equal parts anger and frustration, as if trying to melt him down with her eyes.

Can’t we just wait for the fuel to run out? Pete asked, an edge of whining to his tone. I mean, how much fuel can this thing hold?

No. If we wait, we’ll just keep rising and rising, eventually getting so high that the air will become too thin for us to breathe and we’ll die gasping. So, in the light of that information, bring your oh-so-manly legs over here and I will climb up to do the job.

Pete walked to her side of the basket with one giant step and extended his right leg forward. Elizabeth grabbed hold of his right arm and stood up on his right leg. Pete wiggled his leg to and fro a few times just to tease her, and as she looked down from the burners she hit him on the crown of his head. Pete then held her steady, wishing he could rub the spot on his head where she slapped him. My mother hit me on the head once, just once! said Pete, grabbing a firmer clutch on her thighs as she swung around to sit on his shoulders.

What film is that from? asked Elizabeth.

Who says that’s from a movie?

Because you quote the cinema like it’s your job, said Elizabeth.

"Fine. It’s an approximate quote from Johnny Dangerously."

You make such bizarre references.

Yeah, yeah. Have you fixed the rope thing yet? asked Pete a little annoyed. He felt he quoted quality movies and that none of them were bizarre.

Does the flame look like it is put out? asked Elizabeth.

You know, you could just say, ‘No, not yet.’

I could, but then how would I harass you? replied Elizabeth with a smirk.

Pete raised both of his eyebrows in unison as he slowly adjusted his weight from one leg to the other and grabbed Elizabeth’s thighs tighter. He thought about where he was before he met Elizabeth a week ago, somewhere with no chance of being trapped in a hot air balloon floating over a desert.

The basket began to sway because all the weight had been shifted to one side. Pete grabbed tightly to the side of the basket to steady himself and his load. The wind had also picked up and was whacking Elizabeth’s hair over her eyes. Elizabeth gritted her teeth and closed one eye as she tried with all her might to grab hold of the small threads of the rope that remained. The chrome pipes of the burner were sizzling to the touch and left several marks on the back of her hands and fingers.

Then the burners gave a quick blurt and the flame slowly died down. A stronger gust of wind swept through the basket and shoved Elizabeth’s body into the lower part of the mechanism. Her foot slid forward, which caused Pete to lose his balance and fall to the floor of the basket, Elizabeth crashing down on top of him. The two remained in this heap waiting for their brains to stop rattling, Elizabeth’s face planted directly on Pete’s chest. She pushed up with her elbows and came face to face with him. The two gazed upon one another for a few moments.

Sorry ’bout that, said Elizabeth finally, and then she rolled to her side so that she was no longer lying on top.

Not a problem. Glad I was able to break your fall.

The two stared up into the balloon, the top piece of fabric flapping in the wind. Pete swore he could feel the balloon descending. But that feeling did not last long.

Well, now that we have fixed that, we just need to figure where to land this thing, said Pete.

The burner made a sputtering noise and the flame erupted again. This time the fire seemed to be shooting much higher than it had before.

You had to go and say something, didn’t you? You twit! Just for that, you’re going to go up there and turn off the flame.

Pete hated that idea but knew it was his turn. He wondered if she knew that the flame would come back on. He climbed on to the edge of the basket and suspended himself by holding on tightly to the ropes connecting the basket to the balloon. With one hand holding the rope, he tugged on the remnants of the rope with his other. He had to stand on the tips of his shoes in order to reach.

A large gust of wind swung the basket outward behind Pete and then sloped into the opposite direction. The basket fell backward with a rather heavy thud and Pete lost his firm grip on the rope. His body went backward. Elizabeth screamed as she watched his body do a backflip toward the ground. She rushed to the edge and looked over, ready to see him falling to his demise. When she got to the edge she was shocked to find that Pete’s right leg was caught in the decorative ropes dangling alongside the balloon basket.

Pete remained as still as he possibly could, his heart beating in his throat. He looked up between his feet and saw Elizabeth’s face and then looked away at the passing desert. Every second of the moments before were flashing before his eyes. His heavy breathing stopped as the brightness of the sun caught his attention. He looked out at the horizon. I’m supposed to be on my honeymoon! he shouted in his head.

CHAPTER TWO

The Beginning

Saturday, May 15, dawned a picture perfect morning. The sky was its deepest hue of blue and the grass was gleaming a brilliant shade of harlequin green. Pete awoke at his best man’s house surrounded by beer cans. The sun had alerted him of its presence by peeking through the wooden slats of the blinds on the living room windows. Pete rolled over and three beer cans rolled to the floor, causing a growling sound from the other guys in the room.

Pete had spent his last evening as a bachelor with his groomsmen. They stayed up late drinking and playing billiards and video games. He did not want anything extravagant to be done for his bachelor party. All he wanted was to spend the night hanging out, drinking and having a good time with his best friends. The only problem was that they started drinking at two in the afternoon the day before his wedding. The house appeared to have been blasted by a tornado. The pounding in Pete’s head was like an electric nail gun slamming against wood in an empty room. His three groomsmen, Charlie, Mark, and Zach, all had similar stories to tell. Charlie would win the prize for most bloodshot eyes, while Zach took place and Mark pulled in with a show.

Guys, we’ve got to get up. It’s 7:00, said Pete. Nobody seemed to want to move. They all just laid there staring off into the distance. Guys, I’m getting married at noon. We have to get up, said Pete again. This time he received eye contact from Charlie and Mark. Pete got up off of the couch and walked upstairs to take a shower and get his tuxedo on. One by one they all did the same.

By 8:45 they were drinking coffee and having bowls of cereal, except Mark who had found a bag of cheese puffs and decided that would be his breakfast.

Hey, guys. Look what I found, said Mark. Mark put his hand into the bag of cheese puffs and pulled out a white powdered mini-donut. Holding it in his right hand between his index and thumb, he marveled at the concoction. While the donut had a white powdered exterior, it also had an orange hue to it from being in the bag with cheese puffs.

Dude, don’t eat that. You’ll end up puking all over your tuxedo, said Charlie.

"Don’t eat it? How the hell can I not eat this? Look at it. It’s beautiful, said Mark. And with that thought he plopped the whole thing into his mouth. Oh, this is the shit, boys. I think I’ll call this Puff of Donut Cheese, or maybe D-Nut Cheese Puff," said Mark between chomps.

I don’t think you’ll be able to sell that, said Charlie.

Why? Mark asked, annoyed.

Because it sounds like your selling sperm, said Charlie.

What? No, it doesn’t, said Mark. But after several moments, he realized what Charlie was talking about.

Well, my demographic will be women and gay guys.

Sure. I can’t see why women and gay guys wouldn’t find that offensive in the least, said Charlie.

Mark proceeded to drop some more powdered mini-donuts into the bag of cheese puffs. Then he creased the bag shut and shook it every which way.

The doorbell rang, and to Pete it sounded like someone just rang a giant bell right next to his head. Oh man, that is loud, said Pete. Zach concurred and went back to eating his cereal flakes very slowly as the crunching noise was making his head vibrate and his eyes twitch.

Pete opened the front door and found a tall man in a black suit with a matching black stretch limousine behind him in the driveway.

Good morning Mr. Spencer. Your limo awaits, said the driver.

Excellent. And right on time. Come on in. We’re almost done with breakfast. What’s your name? said Pete.

Name’s Lawrence.

Good morning, Lawrence. Would you care for anything? asked Pete.

No thanks, sir. I’m good, said Lawrence.

Have a cup of coffee, insisted Pete. Lawrence followed him into the kitchen and greeted the others. Zach and Mark were seated at the dining room table and Charlie on a stool at the kitchen counter. Pete grabbed a mug from the kitchen cabinet and poured Lawrence a cup of coffee.

Here you go. If you’d like milk or sugar, there it is on the counter. Help yourself.

And if you’d really like, you should try some of my D-nut cheese puffs, said Mark. Lawrence took a step backward and raised his eyebrow in a bewildered manner.

Have some of your what? asked Lawrence in disbelief.

Some of my D-nut cheese puffs. It’s soft and cheesy in your mouth, said Mark while swallowing the one he had started just before Lawrence walked in the room.

I… I don’t swing that way, man, said Lawrence.

What? No! I’m not asking you if you would like my… said Mark just before he was interrupted by laughter from the others.

He’s talking about mini-donuts dipped in a cheese puff bag, said Pete.

I’ll just stick with the coffee, if that’s alright with you, said Lawrence as he took the cup of coffee from Pete.

If you don’t mind me asking Mr. Spencer, how long have you been with your bride to be? asked Lawrence as he added cream to his coffee.

You can call me Pete, and I’ve been dating Christina for four years now and we’ve been engaged for just under a year. Wow, time flies by quickly, said Pete

Pete in fact did not realize just how fast time did pass until that moment. He thought back to when he first met Christina at an outdoor performance of The Taming of the Shrew. One of his friends was performing when he first saw Christina from across the grass field. She arrived late and, by chance, the only empty spot to be taken was beside Pete. The night started with small talk during intermission, which then led to a cup of coffee at a local diner that lasted into the wee hours of the morning. The two shared an immense amount of passion for the same music, movies, and vacation spots around the world.

Christina was a tall slender woman with strawberry hair that danced upon her shoulders. Her eyes were as blue as the sky and her complexion proved her Italian nationality with a smooth, silky tan. Whenever she was nervous she would make a soft high-pitched squeak that Pete thought was one of the most adorable things about her.

The two barely spent any time apart. After a year and a half of dating, they moved in together; both were tired of the commute. At first, like most couples, the settling-in period took some getting used to. Pete preferred to push the snooze button in the morning several times, whereas Christina was a mover and a shaker the minute the alarm went off. Pete tended to be a neat freak of sorts, making sure that each corner of the bed was creased and papers were put where they belonged. Christina would leave papers on the coffee table, plates in the sink, and would never return the remote control to where she found it. This compulsion that Pete had for neatness drove Christina mad at times. She would look for where she placed papers last and they would not be there, resulting in arguments about leaving things alone and so on. But the rule of the house was never to go to sleep angry, and therefore make-up sex was one of their greatest shared pleasures.

After three years together, one and a half living with one another, Pete proposed to Christina. They had gone to their favorite Italian restaurant out on a windy autumn night, a place they had eaten so many times that the waiter stopped bothering to take their orders and just brought out the drinks and salads soon after seating them. After dessert, Christina had gone to the ladies’ room and the waiter came over.

Have-a-you asked her yet? asked the waiter with a heavy Italian accent while clasping his hands together.

Not yet. I’m waiting for her to return from the ladies’ room, said Pete.

This is…a very exciting moment, said the waiter. Pete smiled but had to quickly adjust his posture because Christina was approaching the table. The waiter stepped aside, took a bow, and left the table. Pete waited for Christina to take her seat before he spoke.

Christina, I want you to know that these past three years have been extremely rewarding and I love you very much. Christina’s cheeks gave away her emotions, turning a shade of red known only to the McIntosh apple.

Pete slid down from his chair upon one knee and presented the ring to Christina. The corner of Christina’s mouth curled and a look of fear crossed her face.

Christina, will you marry me?

She looked at the ring in the box and then back at Pete. Her left arm shot up to her chest in astonishment. Pete stared at her and began to worry that it was taking her awhile to give him an answer. His nerves felt like a wind chime on a breezy day. Some of the other patrons had seen him get down upon one knee, and they too were awaiting her reply. Some of the elderly ladies two tables over had all clutched their napkins to their chests or chins.

Please? asked Pete with a shrug of his shoulders.

Christina looked up at him and gave a tearful yes and leaned in to hug him. I will marry you, Pete.

Pete crawled forward and gave her a hug back. Some of the onlookers clapped and whistled their approval. When Pete returned to his seat, Christina held both of his hands in hers across the table.

You gave me a scare, Christina.

I’m sorry. I was… She did not know what was going on. She had many thoughts of where her life would go after giving him the answer. I was so caught up in the moment, she replied.

Excuse me, sir? said Lawrence. You look a little lost in thought, but speaking of time flying by quickly, we need to get going.

Pete felt a tiny jolt and realized where he was. He looked over at Lawrence, still a little bewildered, and then down at his tuxedo.

That’s right. Come on, fellows. Finish up your breakfast. We need to get to the church before the bride does so we don’t run into one another. You know how she feels about her superstitions, said Pete.

The guys all gave a collective grumble and brought their bowls to the sink. Mark brought his bag of cheese puff donuts to the garbage can. Then they made their way out the door and to the limo waiting in the driveway. Lawrence stood at attention while he held the door open for the men to get in.

Excellent! There’s booze in here! shouted Mark excitedly.

Dude, we are just getting over our hangovers and you’re ready to drink? said Pete.

It’s beer, ’nough said, Mark replied.

Yeah, Pete. The same goes for a hamburger too, said Zach mocking Mark’s body size.

Mark gave him the finger and retorted, Shut up!

Pete would best describe Mark as a stocky man, which never seemed to get in the way of his chemistry with women or getting them into bed. Some of the guys had discussed this phenomenon many times, each discussion ending with a scratch of the head. Sometimes they thought that he was putting something into the women’s drinks or telling them that his male member was python-esque in size. Mark was quick to remind Charlie and Zach, I’m getting more play than the both of you, and the both of you should take a page from my book.

We would if the pages weren’t so stuck together, said Charlie. Everyone in the limousine laughed, including Mark.

Alright, fellows. Let’s get to my wedding on time. Lawrence, if you would, said Pete.

You got it boss, replied Lawrence.

The limousine headed south on Annapolis Drive. Pete watched three of four of his most favorite people in the world, the fourth being his bride-to-be, laugh, have a drink, and open the bags of chips that was at the request of a groomsmen. He also thought about what was going to happen in the next two hours and how much his life was going to change when they walked out of the church. He was about to begin the next phase of his life as a married man. He looked out of his window at the passing houses and wondered if he would actually feel any different.

The limousine came to a stop at a traffic light. There were children playing tag on the front lawn of this grand red brick Victorian style house on the corner, and Pete imagined how long it would be until he and Christina decided to have children. He knew that he was ready for marriage and to live in a house instead of an apartment, but children were another phase of life all together. He knew that there would be children at some point in time and that was a worry for another day. His concerns needed to be on getting to the church on time, remembering his vows, not tripping down the aisle, and whether or not the wind would shift his brown hair while taking pictures afterward. As Pete came to those realizations, the limousine arrived at the church.

CHAPTER THREE

Having a Drink with the Reverend

Saint Margaret’s Church, crafted from stone and designed after a Gothic church in Europe, was built in the early twentieth century. Several stained glass windows surrounding the sanctuary illuminated the interior in shades of blue, red, green, and yellow. The limousine drove up around the horseshoe-shaped driveway. Twelve steps led up to two large bronzed wooden doors with iron-crafted olive branches drawing to the center where the doors split. The limousine stopped on the side of the building and Lawrence opened the door for their exit. The groomsmen followed Pete down the concrete steps and they all entered the reflection room.

The walls of the room were covered in a wood-like plastic material complete with fake knots here and there. The floor was covered in a thin red carpet with frail edges near the door they had entered. In the center of the room were two well-aged burgundy colored leather couches with gold beads embroidered along the front of the armrests and along the deck board. A simple end table separated the couches in the corner creating an L-shaped seating arrangement. On the end table sat a lamp that Pete thought was completely out of place for a church, something he had expected to see at Mark’s house. Two upside down intertwined deer antlers graced the table top with a bright white light bulb shining through the shade. Pete thought, Clearly the reverend is a hunting man.

Pete stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling oval mirror on the far end of the room and sized himself up, adjusting his bow tie ever so carefully to even up the sides. All the while, he tried his best to fight the temptation to do the infamous James Bond pose. He finally succumbed to the temptation and walked out of the mirror’s view, turned and raised his right arm, his fingers fashioned into the universal gun position. He took three steps forward into the mirror’s frame and quickly turned to face it, tipping his gun hand upward to express the shooting of a bullet.

Dude, you’re lucky Christina isn’t seeing this right now, said Charlie.

Why? asked Pete.

Because you look incredibly stupid doing it.

Oh really, and is this incredibly stupid? asked Pete placing his right hand into his pocket and searching for something. Oh there it is, said Pete.

He pulled his hand out from his pocket with all his fingers clutched except for the middle finger. Pete turned his right hand upright and held it high so Charlie could not be mistaken at his gesture.

That’s nice. You give your friend the finger on your wedding day, and in a church no less, said Charlie.

Yeah. Isn’t that against bible law? asked Zach. Doesn’t this mean you have to not pass go, do not collect two-hundred dollars, and go immediately to hell or something?

Zach was Jewish but among the most liberal followers of that religion. He had no problem slapping some cheese on his hamburger, nor did he have a problem placing bacon on top of said cheese. Zach had jet black hair combed straight back, and quite the volume and height of hair for a man. Though not a physical man, he stood five-foot ten and had the shoulders of a professional baseball player. He was a highly intelligent individual, and those smarts sometimes boosted his ego much higher than was warranted, causing many arguments. After being friends with him for so long, Pete and the rest of the gang had become accustomed to this and enjoyed when an outsider would approach Zach and initiate an argument.

No, you bonehead. It doesn’t work like that. Besides, I’m sure God’s busy somewhere else, probably sitting in a lawn chair catching some rays and drinking a Mai Tai, said Pete. The guys all laughed.

I wouldn’t be making jokes like that under this roof, son, said a deep voice with an Irish accent from behind them. The men all stood up and turned to the left corner of the room. Before them stood a reverend dressed in a black cassock with a white surplice and a white stole with gold tassels at the bottom of both sides.

Reverend O’Grady! shouted Pete, Mark, and Charlie. Zach nodded hello.

Hello, my sons, and a hello to you too, Zach Finkel. Isn’t it nice, Pete, that we let the Jews into our churches after what they did to our Savior, said Reverend O’Grady.

The room went silent. Mark was nervous and had no idea where to look; finally, he decided to keep his attention to the sunlight flickering on the floor. Pete gauged Zach’s reaction. Zach looked as bewildered as the rest.

"Oh, I’m just kidding, you bunch of amadáns. All are welcome in this church, and always. Come over here and shake my hand, young man." Laughter permeated the room, most of it born of awkwardness. Reverend O’Grady came to the United States from his homeland many years before and would often mix English and Gaelic terms when he spoke. When he called the men amadáns, he essentially called them idiots.

What a beautiful day to get married. The birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and you look very nice all dressed up.

Thank you Reverend, said Pete.

Pete, I want you to know that your bride is on the other side of the church. I recommend that you stay here, and don’t see one another as to not bring bad luck poking its arse around. Right? said Reverend O’Grady

Agreed, Reverend.

Now, then. There is something that I like to do with all me grooms and their groomsmen before the ceremony gets underway. If we can all stand in a circle right over here, said Reverend O’Grady. The Reverend opened a closet door. The men followed his instructions and stood in a circle. The Reverend turned around with his surplice lifted and a fleshy object hanging out in front of his black cassock. Who wants to see Reverends-gone-wild? asked the Reverend, lifting his eyebrows quickly with a grin. The men jumped backward and all screamed. Pete outstretched his arms, trying to block the sight of what he believed was the reverend’s holy scepter. Charlie had backed up so far that he knocked himself and Zach over the larger of the two couches in the center of the room.

Works every time! said Reverend O’Grady laughing uncontrollably.

Open your bloody eyes! shouted the reverend. The men looked at the reverend only to find the reverend’s right index finger sticking out of his robes. The men looked at one another and joined the reverend in laughter.

What in the name of Jesus did you think I had out there? For heaven’s sake, have a little more common sense, now. I’ve done that gag so many times I’ve lost count, but I still laugh like it was me first time. But seriously, boys, there is a ritual I like to do. Come on over here to this table. The reverend pointed to the little table next to the closet. From within the closet, the reverend took out five glasses and placed them on the little table. He then grabbed an object from the top shelf behind a few small boxes and a hat box. He poured a liberal amount of the liquid into each of the glasses and returned the cap to the bottle. The men collected near the little table and were waiting patiently.

My sons, this be Jameson whiskey, said the Reverend, handing out one glass at a time with at least two fingers of liquid in each. All four men nodded their approval of the choice. This whiskey is the whiskey of me homeland. The Scotts can claim his birth, but simply put, he was more of an Irishman than any other Irishman ever was.

I think the ole Reverend here has been into the bottle before entering the room, said Charlie quietly and nudging Mark.

"I use this particular drink with the groom and his…merry men. With his groomsmen that is. Because drinking a shot of Jameson, or Jame-O as the young lassies say it, is like getting married. First you take the drink and place it under your nose. Take a long sniff to really take in its aroma. Now stir the drink by rotating your hand counterclockwise to give it a more powerful affect. This here is developing your level of