Chapter 63 - Here with me

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* chapter music *- arms of heaven -Jeick Abrego

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* chapter music *
- arms of heaven -
Jeick Abrego

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Like a whisper of their souls, always there.

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Rosalie POV

The 6th of August, 1957

«So... is something going on between you two youngins?» Gladys asked, with motherly curiosity and a sweet-mannered look in her eyes. The tendency to a little smile played on her lips as she threw a peeled potato into the pot of cold water—ready to boil.

Holding a little tighter, trying not to lose my grip on the potato, I laughed warmheartedly—going into the state of fooling the both of us. «Oh, Gladys, it's not like that. We're just close friends.»

«Well, I can see that Elvis cares for you a lot, darlin'.» A peculiar Gladys spoke, giving me a look—making me feel uneasy.

«I... I care a lot about him too.» Maybe there could have been an end to how slippery a potato could have gotten, and if there were, I would have surpassed it. Me and my damp hands got sent into the whole package of stuttering.

«I can see that too, sweetie.» Five miles ahead of us, Gladys knew what was up. Smiling with the want to laugh at me, I tried avoiding looking at her and preventing her from trying to appease me into her daring roam.

Her efforts were never less than what could reach you, so I kept my cool to the best of my abilities. I couldn't help but show the effect Gladys' playful confrontation had on me, though, with my slow, peeling, clumsy hands. How many rounds could you turn the potato over to look for missed spots?

«You help out so often, dear. You don't have to. Why don't you take a seat, doll?» She said as she noticed my painfully slow new way of helping out.

«I'd like to help,» I said with a sincere smile. Determined.

A warm and loving Gladys spoke, taking a moment to gaze upon me, pausing the preparations for dinner. «You are a very kind girl, Rosalie. I'm glad my son has you. And eternally grateful it was you he ran to and that you're here now, watching out for him when... I... can't.» Turning somber for just a fraction of a time, I saw her pain.

«What are you ladies talkin' about?» Elvis interrupted as he walked into the kitchen—energized but wary. His curious outer lived in both his gaze and risen corner of his lips. Reaching Gladys, he plopped a sweet kiss on her cheek.

I couldn't help to think how much of a sweetheart Elvis was when it came to his Mama. Knowing full well there had been tension between the two since yesterday—it was hard watching them and Gladys admitting to feeling as though she couldn't look out for him the way she wished to.

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