Edge of Reality [Elvis]

1967 - Unexpected Guest at the Wedding

Christmas Eve 1966

Cilla showed off her big diamond ring to everyone in the room. I did it. I proposed to her, the one girl in my life that said yes. I knew that she would since she was expecting it for the good part of a decade. I had asked Ann, but she wanted to focus on her career, even though she was in love with me.

How irritating it was that the women who were in love with me and who I wanted to marry didn't want to marry me. Ann, Joan, Meara... Meara said that Ann would be the best for me, but she didn't want me. I was basically forced into proposing to Cilla. I wasn't like I didn't love Cilla—I did, a lot—but I never really wanted to marry her. My song from Follow That Dream summed me up perfectly—"I'm Not the Marrying Kind."

"Wow, Elvis, you sure did well, didn't ya?" asked Patsy as she ogled Cilla's new ring. Well, it sat there in the drawer in my room, ready for the first woman who would accept me. I didn't expect it to be Cilla.

My thoughts went from the song to what was going on. "I always do," I told my cousin as Cilla was beaming ear to ear. She came and sat next to me on my left on the sofa downstairs and showed off the ring to a little film camera that one of the guys was holding. Well, this moment was captured on film. Lovely. Who wouldn't catch an engagement on film, especially when it was my engagement? The press and everyone else would go absolutely nuts with this. My female fans already disliked Cilla because she had me, and now, they would hate her for marrying me.

I gazed around at everyone. Yes, I was happy for this occasion since it was meant to happen eventually, and Cilla was the happiest I had ever seen her, but... there was still that song going through my head...

I'm not, I'm not, I'm not, I'm not. Now you've got what I'm not. I'm not the marrying kind. I'm not the marrying kind. Oh I'm not the marrying kind!

Well, it went through my head when thinking about Cilla, just not the other women. Yeah, maybe marrying them wouldn't be a good idea, either. I liked being single. In a few months, I wouldn't be. But... did that mean I had to look at only my wife?

Every respectable man would. I was respectable, right?

Right?

~ ~ ~

May 1, 1967

The day finally arrived, and what a headache it was! At least, getting to the venue in Vegas was a headache. Everyone had to be as discreet as possible, moving my family, Cilla's family and our friends to Vegas without anyone noticing—at least the press and fans. Most of us took a plane from Memphis.

Once at the Aladdin Hotel, Cilla and I were split up, as was tradition at every wedding. She went with the women to her dressing room so she could get ready, and I went to mine with the men. It was a party, basically, and Sonny, Jerry and the guys were making a ruckus.

I was excited. I was, really. This was a big day and a big deal. As discreet as we wanted to be, people found out, and the chapel that Cilla and I would marry in already had some reporters with cameras. There wasn't a way to escape them completely, no matter how private we wanted this wedding to be.

"Elvis, I really can't believe you're finally tying the knot!" Sonny hollered. "It's about darn time!"

"Here, here!" several of the guys chimed and held up glasses. Of course, I wasn't drinking, even for the occasion.