“No, we’re not.”

“But this plane is going to Las Vegas.”

“So are we.”

“But we’re supposed to be going to New York.”

“There’s something I thought we could do in Vegas, first.”

“What do you want to do in Vegas?” Had Peter developed a gambling problem without my noticing? Or a strange need to see Celine Dion in concert?

He reached over and took my hand, and then he cleared his throat. “Well, I thought we could get married.”

“You mean, elope?”

“Uh-huh. It’ll be fun.”

I looked at him, stunned and temporarily speechless. “One thing I learned this weekend is to be very, very nervous about anything you think will be fun.”

“This won’t involve any physical activity, I promise. At least, not the sort of physical activity you’re worried about. And you can wear your new dress.”

“Have you learned nothing this weekend?” I asked. “Peter. You don’t want to marry me. You just don’t realize it yet.”

“Of course I want to marry you. I’m in love with you. I thought we had that all settled. Have you changed your mind? Don’t you want to marry me?”

“No, I do. It’s just that I’m so wrong for you. You need someone normal.”

He stared at me in amazement. “Why do you think I love you?” he asked.

“I have no idea,” I admitted.

“Do you know how normal my life was before I met you? With my normal family and my normal friends and my normal job? It was like living in black-and-white. Until I met you. Suddenly I was living in color, and I don’t want that ever to end.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he said.

He leaned in to kiss me, and the plane thundered down the runway, gathering speed before lifting off the ground.

Jennifer Sturman