Cat In A White Tie And Tails

Her quick call and request were greeted by surprise and the usual efficiency.

“You want to arrange a wedding here? Tomorrow? This is so sudden, Temple, dear. No problem. ‘Sudden’ is a justice of the peace’s expertise. I’ll come right down to your place.”

“Uh-oh,” Temple said, signing off. “She thinks it’s us.”

“I suppose it could be us,” Matt pointed out. Again.

“A double wedding is a sweet idea, but your mother should be the star of the show.”

“There’ll only be us and them and Electra attending. Not much ‘show.’”

“That’s why the Lovers’ Knot is the perfect site. There’s an entire soft-sculpture congregation present. And, unlike relatives, they keep their mouths shut.”

“I don’t know what Mom will think about having Elvis in the building.”

Electra’s finest soft sculpture was a jumpsuited Elvis wearing blue suede shoes.

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Temple jumped up to grab a narrow grocery list notepad from the kitchen. It was headlined by a dancing chorus line of spectacle-wearing carrots and Mr. and Mrs. Potato Heads. “Does your mother have a special dress? And she’ll need flowers. A bouquet.”

The doorbell rang, so Matt admitted Electra. Her signature muumuu of the day was a snappy black-and-white print that coordinated with the very Lady Gaga black streaks in her permed halo of white hair.

“Did I hear you mention a bouquet, Temple?” Electra bustled into the living room and sat on the sofa spot Matt had deserted. “I’ll provide the flowers. But why such a hurry, you two? This will have to be a very simple affair on such short notice. It’s not like Temple is pregnant.”

“It’s my mother who’s getting married,” Matt said quickly, sitting on a side chair. “Her name is Mira Zabinski. She and her fiancé, Philip Winslow, are flying down from Chicago as we speak.”

“Really? Well.” Electra fluffed her hair. “I pride myself on immediate response. Vegas was built in the old days on blood-test-free quickie marriages, but the Lovers’ Knot Wedding Chapel ‘puts the classy in quickie.’ They’re not bringing down an entourage?”

Matt shook his head. “No. They want it low-key. Temple and I will be there. That’s it.”

“Sorry, my boy, that is not ‘it.’ I have flowers and music to arrange, on the house, of course.”

“Matt could play the organ,” Temple volunteered.

While Matt raised his eyebrows, Electra applauded. “Yes, I remember you noodling around on my Hammond electric in the chapel over a year ago. Quite respectably. What was that Bob Dylan tune you thought would make a great wedding processional?”

“You’d make a good memory-policewoman,” Matt said, chagrinned.

He’d caught and interpreted Temple’s raised eyebrows look, which wondered, Were you mooning over little me way back then?

He moved on, fast. “Yeah. It has a great processional vibe, and the lyrics are appropriate. That was ‘Love Minus Zero over No Limit’ … slash mark between ‘Minus Zero’ and ‘No Limit.’”

“What does that title mean?” Temple wondered.

“Bob Dylan envisioned the words written as a mathematical fraction. ‘Love Minus Zero,’ then a line, and below that, ‘No Limit.’ It’s a cryptic, non-schmaltzy way of saying unconditional love.”

“I love it!” Temple responded unconditionally. “You’re hired. Electra, can the bride’s bouquet include something blue besides the usual pale tea roses? Her eyes are the most gorgeous clear light blue color.”

“That’s something blue,” Electra said, checking off a mental list. “What about something borrowed?”

“I don’t know,” Temple said, “but I surely can come up with something unique to lend her. That leaves ‘something old, something new.’”

“Matt’s vintage Dylan song is something old,” Electra suggested.

“Yes,” Temple said, “but I can find something more material somewhere. And after the Marriage Bureau date early tomorrow morning, I’ll treat Mira to a shopping spree on the Strip. If she didn’t have a brideworthy dress at home, I’ll find her the perfect one in Vegas.”

“You women are loving this ‘family emergency,’ aren’t you?” Matt asked.

“We are arrangers,” Electra boasted, with an elbow nudge in Temple’s direction. “Emergencies social and emotional our specialty.”

Temple nodded. “Speaking of arrangements,” she told Matt, “stop by here after you deposit the happy couple at the Crystal Phoenix.”

“I won’t have much time then before leaving for my Midnight Hour show. And that eight A.M. Marriage Bureau date will come early for a three A.M. lights out.”

“I’ll scoot along. Lots to do.” Electra rose and skedaddled for the door. She clearly didn’t want to overhear bedtime logistics discussed.

Temple didn’t foresee much scandalous going on. She and Matt would be scrambling for the next twenty-four hours to bring off this impromptu wedding.

“This is crazy astounding,” he said when they were alone again and cozy on the sofa except for Midnight Louie watching them avidly from the armrest. “Why are they doing this Vegas thing again?”