Ten Things to do in Vegas

When we were done, we stood outside the County Office. I looked at her, and everything seemed different for some reason; I folded the license and other documents in thirds, put them in the inside pocket of my bomber jacket, and said,

"Coffee?"

After double-checking the map, we continued west on Clark to the Starbucks. With her "Flat White" and my "diluted iced Green Tea," we walked south along Casino Center Blvd toward the Strat Tower, where there were those scary-looking rides I had somehow agreed to try.

As we walked, we fell into a nice conversation,

"I always liked Big Sur, but I only spent a few days there. Have you lived there long?"

"I always loved it, too. We bought the house when we got married, and I got it in the divorce."

"Hmm, I gave away my house during my divorce, too. I guess it makes sense; women need their nest."

Out of the blue, she said...

"He cheated on me with a good friend."

"Sorry... she cheated on me with a girlfriend from work."

She took my hand, held it after a gentle squeeze, and said,

"Oh,... not much you can do to fight that."

"No, but I had seen the end coming. Did you fight for him?"

"No, I felt so betrayed by both of them."

"Kids?"

"No, you?"

"Yes, a daughter, but she wanted to stay with her 'two moms'."

She gave my hand another little squeeze,

"Sorry, that must have been hard."

"It crushed me, but I have a plan..."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, I'm going to marry the first woman I have spoken to since the divorce, and we're going to live happily ever after. Haha."

"That sounds like a great plan; I think an older man might be more stable and faithful... haha."

We walked and talked, still holding hands.

She stopped suddenly,

"Look"

Set back, a little, off the road to the right, was the "Elvis Chapel"

We both started to laugh, then I said,

"If we're going to die falling off a thrill ride up there (I pointed to the top of the Strat, which was just down the road), we should be married, don't you think?"

"I suppose you're right, plus it's on our list."

"True, let's check it out."

It was a low, single-story warehouse-looking building set a couple hundred feet off the road, with a blue Elvis sign above the door.

Inside was actually nicer than one might think. They offered a few "packages," but we chose the simplest, which included the Elvis officiant. Even though it was "just for fun," they needed our IDs and my credit card. Even though my wallet was in my back pocket, I reached inside my jacket, pretending I couldn't find it. We laughed so much that I hadn't noticed the license falling onto the counter.

I had gotten my wallet out and was distracted tapping my credit card on the terminal. I'm not sure I would have thought anything of it, but I didn't notice the cashier picking up the license. I don't know why, but the charge didn't go through at first, so the cashier tapped a few keys and said,

"Try it now."

The charge went through, but I was surprised that it seemed more than I thought it would be...

She noticed my surprised look at the total and said,

"Oh, I added the officiating and filing fees to the total."

"Okay, right, no problem; you know what to do."

She asked, "Do you have a ring?"

"No, we hadn't thought about that."

"No problem"...

She pulled out a small box of brightly colored plastic rings she called "symbolic rings"...

"Take one of these. You can stop at a jewelry store or pawn shop and pick up your forever rings later."

I picked a bright blue sparkly ring that almost matched Eddie's eyes.

I thanked the cashier and looked around.

After the technicalities were done and we waited a little, we walked down the aisle (thankfully, Elvis didn't sing with this package). He did a great job with the impersonation and the wedding. He spoke about the commitment and sanctity of marriage. We smiled as we checked another item off our list and "got married."

It was silly and fun, and we giggled about the whole thing. As we started to leave, she commented,

"They made it... nice, and it seemed so real."

"They sure did, but I'm glad; I wanted it to be fun, but I don't know...

special too. If you know what I mean?"

"I do, and I liked it too."

As we passed the cashier on the way out, she came around the desk and said,

"Don't forget your paperwork."

I assumed she meant the receipt and put the envelope in my jacket pocket.

We decided not to do the thrill rides, so we took a cab to the Bellagio Fountain and watched it for longer than expected. Eddie got a chill in the late-night air and the mist of the fountain, so I gave her my jacket and a hug.

The hug lasted longer than expected,

"Thank you, I needed a hug... and you give good hugs."

"You're welcome; I needed one, too."

Standing there, watching the water and listening to the music was hypnotic, neither of us wanted it to end. I don't think either of us had planned or expected it, but after maybe fifteen minutes, Eddie looked up at me to say something just as I looked down, and we kissed. It was a soft kiss that lasted way longer than a friendly peck. We stopped and looked at each...

Eddie quietly said, "More."

That's how it started: a make-out session at the Bellagio Fountain, which led to a make-out session in the back of a cab, to a make-out session in my hotel lobby...

Someone cleared their throat, "Aahhumm."

I said, to no one in particular,

"It's okay, we just got married," but no one really cared.

We continued kissing across the lobby and into the elevator.

After making out in the elevator, we somehow made it to my room. We got busy making the wedding night memorable. In fact, we made it memorable a few times... on the bed, in the shower, on the balcony, and eventually in bed, where we fell fast asleep.

A phone buzzed, it was Eddie's... I could hear Connie screaming,

"Where the fuck are you? We have a plane to catch!!"

"Oh, shit!! Wes, Wes, wake up. I have to get going..."

Connie heard her,

"Wes? Who the hell is W... wait a second, did you? Oooh, I don't even want to think about it. Where are you? Okay, I'll pack your bag and head that way, I think we can still make it back to San Francisco for the concert, if you're waiting for me out front."

I was slowly waking, but I quickly realized that Eddie was frantically looking for all her clothes.

"Why don't you jump into the shower? I'll find your things and..."

"Okay, great idea."

I liked that she stopped to give me a quick kiss before her naked butt disappeared into the bathroom.

I gathered her things but couldn't find her top. I tore the bed apart, looked under all the furniture,

"Where the hell could it be?"

Eddie was just getting out of the shower when I came into the bathroom,

"I couldn't find your top; I looked everywhere..."


"I think it fell off the balcony when we were out there last night."

"Well, I grabbed my newest t-shirt; you can wear my leather jacket over it."

"Ok," she kissed me. Thanks. I'm going to use your toothbrush and brush my hair, too, haha. Don't worry; I didn't shave my legs with your razor..."

"Hmm, maybe I could help?" Haha.

We were standing out front together when Connie showed up. To her credit, she didn't say anything snide,

"You two look happy; fun night?"

We both smiled and said,

"Yes", at the same time.

Another kiss good bye, and they were off, she looked so cute in my t-shirt and bomber jacket.

"I'll call you to get the address here and send you your jacket... I'm keeping the T-shirt."

I said,

"Maybe you should just bring it back." As the driver closed the door.

She blew me a kiss through the closed window and was gone.

I took a deep breath, stood there for more than a few minutes until I realized I was chilly in the early morning desert air and returned to my room.

I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I had so many mixed feelings. I lay back, trying to remember everything we did after we left the restaurant and what we had done here, in "our" honeymoon suite, and fell asleep smiling.

I was woken by a loud noise; someone was banging on the door.

"Mr. Roberts, Mr. Roberts... it's the police."

"Yes, yes, I'm up, I'm up."

I opened the door, and there were two uniformed officers at the door.


"May we come in?"

"Oh, sure, sure..."

For some reason, I started to straighten up the room.

"So? What's going on?... wait, is Eddie okay?"

"Please have a seat."

I sat down on one of the chairs by the little table, one of the officers sat in the other, the second office just stood back.

"First, please, do you have an ID? We need to confirm who you are."

"Yes, yes, of course." I found my wallet on the nightstand and handed her my driver's license.

"What's this all about? Is it Eddie? It has to be about Eddie... wait, or my daughter? Please..."

"Mr. Roberts, first, Edwina is alive... but there's been a terrible accident.

She's at Sunrise Hospital and Medical Center. It has a very good reputation and emergency room..."

"What, how?"

"Something fell off an overpass and..."

"On the way to the airport, she was going to catch a flight."

"Yes, her car was heading south on the highway, toward Harry Reid... there was an accident in the oncoming lane, it caused concrete divider to fall... it fell off, onto the road, well onto the... their... car... below."

"Let's go, I want to see her..."

"Of course, that's why we're here; finish getting dressed; she's in surgery and getting the best care available."

I put on a clean shirt, socks, and shoes... as I asked,

"Her friend, the driver, how are they?"

"I'm sorry, the driver and other passenger were killed instantly...

Was she a friend of yours?"

"No, not really. It's Connie something. She's Eddie's friend. They were together when we met. Connie went out dancing. We walked and walked... Wait, how did you know to come here? How did you find me?"

"Your marriage certificate was found in her jacket pocket. The paramedics said she wouldn't let them take the jacket off her in the ambulance, but it was removed when she went into surgery; that's when they found it."

*****

The hospital wasn't far. We pulled into the emergency entrance, and the officers walked me in. At the reception desk, I asked about Edwina as I looked around...

"Are you a relative?"

The officer spoke,

"This is her husband."

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Simpson."

The officer continued...

"Mr. Roberts."

I was thinking and talking to myself, but I guess I said out loud...

"She wanted to keep her maiden name."

"I see. Well, your wife is in good hands and...," she said, looking at a computer screen. "...is in surgery right now. Please take a seat; someone will come out to speak to you as soon as they are available."

"Is there an admitting nurse or doctor who can tell me what we're looking at?"

"Let me check to see if anyone can come out."

I turned to the policemen,

"Thank you so much for tracking me down and bringing me here. Unless you need anything else, I don't want to keep you longer than necessary."

They gave me their cards,

"If you need anything, be sure to let us know."

"Can you tell me anything about how it happened?"

"I'll give you the Reader's Digest version... heading south, on route to the airport, they were in one of the overpass construction zones, a big rig coming North, and going too fast, lost control, and hit a support column, a fifteen-foot concrete girder fell from the overpass and landed on the driver's side from bumper to bumper. That side of the car was crushed to the frame. The driver and, (he looked at his notes), Candice Honeywell died instantly. Your wife was on the passenger side and received a blow to the head when the roof collapsed next to her."

"Did the truck driver survive?"

"Yes, just a few bumps and bruises from the impact."


"Hmmm, really..." I had a far-off look in my eyes.

She noticed it right away and said,

"Don't even think about it, he's being charged with two counts of manslaughter, and various traffic violations with minimum sentencing requirements, he's definitely looking at jail time."

She kept looking at me until the dark cloud left my eyes.

"Take good care of your wife. You both have a lot to live for. You have our cards; call if you need us."

"Thank you," I shook their hands,

"I will... I promise."

Sitting in a waiting room of a hospital while someone you care about undergoes brain surgery is, in a word, awful. You can't help but think, "If I only had.." Or, "Why didn't they? " or, in my case, "If she dies, I'm going to kill that driver."

Sitting, with a Coke from the vending machine slowly warming in my hand, walking, stretching, cafeteria food, another Coke. Thank goodness for the internet and smartphones.

Then 5 hours later a doctor invites you into a private consultation room...

"All things considered, everything went well. In these cases, the hope is to minimize the swelling of the brain. We were able to do that. The procedure is called a craniotomy, and as I said, it was done to reduce the pressure on her brain and help prevent additional problems. During the procedure, under general anesthesia, the neurosurgeon made a cut on her scalp. Then, I made a hole in her skull using a special drill. Everything went well. We are very optimistic of a full recovery after therapy."

"When can I see her?"

"She's in post-op right now, but we can start up; you can sit with her as soon as she's admitted to the ICU. We used anesthesia, but she won't wake up until her body is ready... she's in a coma, it's her body's reaction to the trauma, basically shutting down to heal... Oh, and just a heads up, there will be some tubes, EKG leads and monitors, and, of course, lots of bruising... do your best to ignore all the equipment and swelling so you can focus on her. Hold her hand and talk to her when you're by her side. It will help in her recovery."

The doctor led the way. The elevator felt claustrophobic, maybe because I had spent all that time in the waiting area, so I was glad to get out and walk down the hall toward the ICU.

The doctor used his badge, and the automatic doors opened; a nurse greeted us,

"We've just finished getting the unit ready, and they're bringing the bed now."

The doctor turned to me and said,

"It's going to seem hopeless; we've got a tube coming from her brain through the opening where we removed the bone flap. Once the swelling is under control and her cerebrospinal fluid is stable, we'll go back and replace the bone, secure it, and staple the skin for healing. For now, she's on a respirator, an IV, plus urinary and Foley catheters for waste. I know it will be a bit scary and a lot to take in, but she needs you... she needs to know you're there."

Of course, while the description was pretty graphic, it didn't prepare me for what I saw. I knelt down beside the bed, took her hand, and whispered...

"I should have begged you to stay."

A tear rolled down my cheek, followed by more.

On average, people who recover are in a coma for a few weeks.

After the swelling went down, her head was patched up a few days later. Another week, she was moved out of the ICU to a private room with monitored care. She was still connected to all sorts of hoses and monitors, but having her own room gave us enough privacy that I felt comfortable reading, singing, and praying aloud, even though I didn't know if she was religious.

As unlikely as it seems, we fell into a routine. I was up at 5:30, had breakfast at the hotel, and arrived at 6:45 every morning. Her room was private, any noise she made, or little change. This caused an alarm at the nurse's station, and someone would come in to see what was happening. It was annoying, sometimes having to move out of the way, but knowing help was so close was also comforting.

I remember it was the third Thursday after the accident. I was sitting on the floor with Eddie's hand on my head. I was pretending she was scratching my head when the nurse came in.

"We need to take some blood, just routine tests."

"What do they look for?"

"The sample goes to the lab, and they run a series of blind tests. The idea is to make sure they test for pretty much everything. They look for possible infections, and it ensures no one makes assumptions regarding care."

"I guess that's a good idea. Are there any tests that would indicate she's getting better?"

"Not really, what we're looking for are consistent, healthy levels, that's all."

"Okay, thank you."

The nurse took her blood, they did it so often they had a thing in her vein and just opened a tap, I was always careful, but especially careful around that.

A few hours later, there was a flurry of activity that told me something was going on.

The nurse said,

"Sorry, but we're going to do some tests and need you out of the way. Go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat."

I was still trying to ask what was happening as I was ushered out of the room and off the ward. As the doors closed in my face, I prayed that everything was alright.

A tech passed me with a machine as I headed to the elevator. Maybe 20 minutes later, I was still in the cafeteria when two doctors and two nurses sat at my table...

"So, how long have you two been married?"

"It's no secret; we were married the night before the accident."

"Right, and you... ah.. consummated the marriage that night, right?"

I was a little embarrassed, but smiled and said,

"Yeah, a couple, maybe three times, actually," and smiled a little more...

and asked,

"What's this all about?"


"Well, there's no easy way to tell you, but... Your wife is pregnant."

"Pregnant? Pregnant, pregnant, like having a baby pregnant?"

"Yes, that kind of pregnant."

"Wait, does that put Eddie at risk?"

"No. It's not ideal, but it has even helped bring the expectant mother around in some cases. However, poor fetal growth, in addition to all the usual risks of pregnancy, is a cause for concern."

I stood up like I wanted or needed to go do something...

"What can I do? What should we do? Oh my God, oh my God."

"First, relax, please sit. She's here getting excellent care, and you've been very attentive and dedicated to her. Everything will be alright; we just have to be mindful of the risks and proactive in minimizing them."

Sixty-seven days after the accident, and 46 days after we found out about the baby, I was sitting on the floor, holding Eddie's hand and quietly singing a song I had sung to her a hundred times before... "Some Enchanted Evening, you may see a stranger..."

...when she squeezed my hand.

At first, I thought it was nothing, but then she squeezed it again...

I got onto my knees and quietly asked,

"Eddie?"

She squeezed it again.

I stood, leaned over her, and whispered, "I'll be right back."

But her weak grip got a little stronger... she didn't want to let go.

I stayed, held on, and reached over her to the "call' button and pressed it.

A few moments later, the night nurse came in,

"What are you still doing here? You were supposed to leave at 10..."

I didn't let her finish... "She squeezed my hand, she's holding my hand..."

The nurse, came over, felt our hands together, she smiled at me and said...

"I think you're right. Give me some space, I want to do something called GCS, it means Glasgow Coma Scale and it is a very simple, easy technique used to rate the severity or status of a coma... but keep singing."

"Is that helping her?"

"Probably, but we just all like to hear it."

"Wait, what? You can hear me singing?"

"Yes, and we all love when you do, and obviously so does she... keep singing."

So I did.

Over the next couple of days, Eddie gained more and more cognitive awareness. She weakly held my hand. Actually, if I was close, she wouldn't let it go.