chapter 13 - 1953

371 21 2
                                    

CECE MARTIN

I thought I would be counting the hours, the minutes and the seconds. I thought I would have difficulties packing. I thought I'd be too excited to sleep.


I felt absolutely nothing.


I made sure I packed my journal and my absolute essentials, because there was no way I was coming back here. After half an hour of sorting things out, I sat on my bed and looked out of the window. I made sure the curtains were drawn back so I could have a good look at the bright moon outside. My eyes were focused on the stillness that reigned out there whereas my head was elsewhere.

After seven years I was going home — I was finally going to see my mama. Apart from still feeling shaken up by what happened earlier, I had so many doubts running through my head. Does she still look the same? Does she still have her multiple daily coffees with Gladys?


Does she still love me?

I hoped my mama knew the decision my daddy made for me all those years ago was something I didn't agree with. I hoped she knew.


I sighed until I realized something that made my heart skip a beat. I wasn't only going to see my mama after all this time. There was a certain someone I had been writing songs to - though I would never reveal that to him. If he was the same Elvis as the one from seven years ago, his ego would double in size at the revelation.

The thought made me smile. I imagined what he would've said.


"My sweet Cece Flora wrote this? Ain't no way."


I smiled again and gently shut my eyes as I imagined more nice things. I imagined hugging my mama and holding her tight. I imagined drinking my first coffee with her and Gladys. I imagined Elvis throwing up at the thought of the bitter drink and me arguing with him about it. I imagined us strumming the guitar as we wondered what our lives would look like if we were singers.

And that simple thought made me feel absolutely everything imaginable.

_____________

"Cece, have you found your suitcases?", I turned around and noticed Naomi struggling with some of my belongings. I quickly grabbed the two bags she was holding and set them by my luggage.

I smiled at her as I let my gaze wander on the fast taxis driving by. People were distressed, which seemed slightly amusing to me. "I got everything, thank you."

"Still relatively hot for September, huh?", Naomi said as she was adjusting the scarf around her neck. I looked around and noticed we were the only ones unaware of the incredibly hot weather.

"It's still the beginning the September, maybe it'll get colder.", I commented, trying to get the small talk going.

"Alright honey.", Naomi turned to me. "Vernon Presley was supposed to pick you up, but he called saying he's at work."

My eyebrows furrowed. "When did he call you?"

"Remember that little souvenir shop you insisted going into? And that little magnet that says something funky about Memphis? While you were there, I found a booth—", I laughed it off.

"Okay, okay.", I cut her off with a small smile. "Am I getting there by myself then?", my stepmother didn't seem all too happy at my words.

"No, sweetheart, don't worry.", she reassured me and then turned around, waving at a taxi driver. "Besides, I'd really like to meet the woman who raised such an intelligent little lady."

I didn't know what to say at her kind words, so I smiled. "Thank you."

"Oh, there's a taxi, Cece— TAXI!", I let out a laugh at her actions. She grasped my hand and pulled me towards the car as the driver seemed not to have seen us.

the PresleysМесто, где живут истории. Откройте их для себя