The Letter [Elvis]

Epilogue - Fast Forward

Here's the last chapter! Thank you all so much for reading, commenting and enjoying. It makes me feel super great that you all like my writing and my cute, cheesy stories. Take a look at my other Elvis fanfics if you haven't already 😊

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Twenty-four years later...

Finally, I was back in Memphis. It had been years since I stepped foot in the city, maybe ten. Ever since my marriage ended, I never wanted to step foot there again. But something pulled me back. That something was snug in my purse that sat next to my twenty-year-old daughter Rosie, who was my only child. She was the spitting image of me when I was her age, but with her wavy brown hair elbow-length.

"Mom, do you really think that he'll still have it?"

"I have no idea."

"You know that your deep love for Elvis most of your life caused your and Dad's divorce."

Those memories I wanted to forget. Time and time again, my husband and I fought with him always complaining condescendingly, "I'm sorry I'm not your precious Elvis." We both had enough and divorced after a decade of marriage.

"I know that very well, Rosie," I quipped, and we came to Graceland, the house that he wanted to buy for his family, and he did in 1957 for the very amount that he guessed he needed—$100,000. A little over that, actually.

"I just wish that you two kept in contact after he became famous back in '56 and come '57 when I was born. Maybe he would've been my dad."

"I wrote 'im letters every few years, but he never responded. Now's the time to connect again. He's in ill health, and I wanna see 'im since he may not last much longer."

My voice cracked, and Rosie took my hand. "I think he'll get instantly better once he sees you. If you ask me, he loved you more than Priscilla."

His wife who he met while he was in the army, and he convinced her parents to send her to the states on the pretense that she and he marry. Well, they did, the very year that my divorce was finalized—1967. I wept the day I found out they married, and my husband forced the reason out of me of why I was so upset. That was the straw that broke the camel's back since he had seen me write Elvis over the years and always pined for him. Later in the year, we divorced.

"Well, are we gonna go in?" Rosie asked. "It's still early enough that hordes of fans aren't blockin' the gates."

I gripped the wheel of my sky-blue '67 Mustang. I bought it with my divorce money. This trip back to Memphis was paid for with that money, too. For the past ten years, I was in Oregon, where I went to college and got a BA in History, a Masters in Secondary Education, and a PhD in Ancient Cultures. I ended up becoming a professor of Ancient Studies at the university when I turned thirty. I still was at forty-two. I was on vacation time, and Rosie was as well. She was a sophomore at the school, working on her history degree like I did.

"I'm nervous," I said. "I haven't seen 'im in person since I went to one of his concerts in 1956, and he didn't even know I came to the concert. Well, he wouldn't know if he didn't read the letter I sent 'im that year."

"But you kept tabs on 'im ever since then. You've seen all his movies, read every newspaper and magazine article about 'im, watched every TV show he was on..."

"That just sounds like I'm a hardcore fan of his. No one knows that we dated, other than my family and close friends. Sally said she wouldn't say a word, neither her husband Joey. I have no idea about Danny. Lord knows what that man is up to now. Probably on his fifth marriage."