He didn't glance back, he just went right on with the Colonel. My heart raced so fast, my hands were starting to numb up, and I was starting to feel a bit faint. This was giving me a reaction similar to the beginning of a panic attack. I needed to sit down, but there was nowhere to sit that was close enough.
I looked around, desperate, and as I did so, I saw the door to Vernon's study open. Out came Vernon. Alarm pulsed my system for a moment. Did he see what just happened?!
He exited the study, and we met gazes. His lips were pursed as he looked away and walked on to the back door silently.
Yes, he saw.
"Oh dear God in Heaven, what do I do now?" I whined when it was just me in the backyard, as well as the morning wind. "Why is this happening? Why are You doing this, especially right now, after I just got divorced, and literally a few days after Elvis got home?"
Blaming God for this whole situation probably wasn't the best thing to do. Everything happens for a reason... but what was the reason behind Elvis and I falling for each other and sharing a kiss that made me feel young and in love again?
I got to the laundry again, and all I could think about was how I felt when he was near me... my emotions. The only other time I felt that giddy, heart-pounding, limb-weakening feeling was before Randall was going in to kiss me for the first time over twenty years ago. And while Elvis was kissing me...
"Wow..." I muttered in a slight daze, recalling those soft luscious lips on mine. No wonder women loved him so much – he was a great kisser. Well, no doubt the girls he went steady with were sold on the way he kissed – soft and tender. And his hot breath entering my mouth as he did so... and his fingers entwined with mine... and his scent... and his body looming over mine...
A dog barked somewhere and I snapped out of it. Face heating, I fumbled with the dry white sheet and folded it the best I could and put it in the basket. Attempting to not think about that kiss, and still a bit rattled, I went on to finish the laundry. It was close to nine o'clock by the time I finished and carried the basket into the house and up the stairs to the first guest room. I would go around the house and make each bed one by one. The top blankets were already in there since I didn't wash those. At least, not yet. I just wanted to do the sheets for now.
In the first guest room, the one to the right of the stairs, I started my chore. As I was tossing the sheets on the bare mattress, I glanced at the wall. There was a gray picture of Elvis from maybe 1957, a nice one where he had his arms resting on a guitar, and a bright smile was on his face. That was probably taken when he was doing Jailhouse Rock, and he had just bought Graceland.
I stared at the picture, amazed at what was going on between me and that boy in the picture, only he looked slightly more mature now. If I went back in time somehow to when that picture was taken and told my past self what I was experiencing only a few years ahead of then, she would laugh at me and call me crazy.
"I really can't believe it..." I muttered and turned away from the picture. As I made the bed, I couldn't help but glance back at it, again and again.
Every room would have at least one picture of Elvis in it. I couldn't avoid it, and I couldn't avoid him coming home and us running into each other eventually. That next time would be the time when we would have to talk. Maybe I would hide in my room starting at eight, just in case he came home early.
That was cowardly. I would wait up for him and get that talk over and done with. It would happen eventually, anyway.
I finished up the bed, pressing out the purple comforter with my hands. On to the next room. And the next. And the next. I tried my darndest not to glance at the pictures of Elvis in those rooms, but of course, I did.
Then came his room. I didn't need to go in, but the prospect of going in there after everything that happened tickled me. Maybe just a walk around. I took the doorknob.
No. I shouldn't. But I wanted to.
I gulped, my hand tight around the knob, and my face heating and heart racing. Since when was I actually nervous about entering Elvis's bedroom?
I slowly opened the door and came into the room, leaving the basket of just one sheet left in the hallway. Naturally, his room smelled like him, the scent that I smelled on him when he was really close those times since he came arrived home... including when he kissed me, and I kissed him back.
Blinking away that thought, my gaze roamed around the room, at his bed, the dresser, the new television set, the bathroom that led to the walk-in closet... I roamed over to his bed, to the side that looked like it was made but was slept on. Not really thinking about it beforehand, I leaned my head down into the pillow, nose first, and I instantly smelled him. I took a big whiff, but then jumped back to reality.
"What the heck am I doing?" I demanded of myself, appalled. "I shouldn't be doing this." I immediately left the room and shut the door, my heart going heavily. "Golly, I'm starting to act like his little teen-aged fans. This is ridiculous!"
Determined to finish the beds, I went to it, never going back into that room again. But my mind still threw images of Elvis at me, memories of the passed few days... and that kiss that Vernon and most likely the Colonel saw. This probably wouldn't end well. Yes, I wanted to continue to feel what I was feeling when the kiss happened, to feel loved and wanted by a man again, but it wasn't right. Elvis, as a very famous person, shouldn't be involved with his housekeeper – a maid, essentially – who graduated high school when he was only a few months old.
No, this shouldn't happen, no matter how much I wanted it to.
~ ~ ~
I couldn't pay attention for the life of me, and I could tell that the guys, including the Colonel and Daddy, were getting impatient. Only my good pal Scotty Moore, who had only just arrived in Memphis so he wasn't at my homecoming, seemed to be concerned with how many times I goofed up singing.
"I'm sorry, everyone, I need a break," I said into the microphone at the recording studio, a beautiful tan guitar in my arms. "Five minutes."
"On standby," said one of the men in the little room with a window, men in charge of recording the audio.
"Excuse me," I said and took the guitar strap off of me and set the instrument on my chair. I left the recording room and stepped into the hallway outside. Both Daddy and the Colonel knew what was going on, but not Scotty. He was out in the hallway a few seconds after I entered it. The memory of those billowing sheets in the wind came to my mind, and I grinned.
"Well, I see that nothing's wrong," Scotty commented, folding his arms over his green short-sleeved collar shirt. "Thought something was wrong with ya."
"Yeah, the others would think that, too," I said, leaning against the wall, hands in my slacks pockets. "Well, Daddy and the Colonel may see it as somethin' wrong, but not me."
He leaned against the wall as well, but by his shoulder, and he folded his arms, a curious furrow in his brow. "How so?"
I had known Scotty since '54 when I was first starting out at Sam Phillips' studio, and he was there for several stage performances, playing my background guitarist. He was older than me by a few years. I felt like I could tell him anything... just like Mary.
"Well... I fell for another woman."
He laughed at my blunt statement. I shouldn't be surprised. He knew of my affairs with various women. "That's what this is all about, huh? So what about Anita or that girl you met in Germany?"
"I broke up with Anita, and as far as Priscilla..."
"Wait, wait," he cut me off. "You broke up with Anita? I thought things were going pretty well with the two of you."
"Yeah, until I went on with other girls in Germany. She called me yesterday and demanded to know more about Priscilla, so... I told 'er. Needless to say, she wasn't happy about it and wanted to take a break."
Scotty's eyes turned sympathetic. "I'm sorry, pal."
"Thanks, and... it wasn't just because of Priscilla that Anita wanted to break up with me. She didn't wanna be competing with other women for me, fans and personal relations alike."
He nodded. "I can understand that, but... what about this other woman? Does Anita know about her?"
"Yeah, she does, and that was another reason. That woman..." I grinned, thinking about that kiss. "That woman is the reason why I'm so loony today, why I can't seem to think straight, and why I keep goofin' up the recordin's."
"Who is she?"
With Mary's face and our past encounters in the past few days all over my mind, I let out a sigh. "Prepare yourself for this one, Scotty. The Colonel thinks I'm nuts, and Daddy does, too, but I think he's more understandin' about it than the Colonel. It's... well, you remember my housekeeper Mary?"
He nodded again. "Yeah, the sweet lady who's been around ya since before you bought Graceland. Wait. Is it her daughter? I've seen her daughter before, and man..."
I had to chuckle. Of course he would think that. It was also funny that he had a little thing for Sandra. Too bad she had a boyfriend. "Nah, it's not her. She has a pretty serious boyfriend at the moment."
His brows pushed together again. "Darn. Then... who are you referring to?" I said nothing for a couple seconds, and Scotty's eyes widened. He figured it out. "No way... you're talking about Mary herself!"
"Yeah, I am. And before you start gawkin' at all this, I'll tell ya that the feelin's mutual."
His face was full of a smile, making his skin scrunch up near his eyes and mouth. "Not gawk at this? Oh, I'm gawking. And you say she feels the same way? How? I mean, she's known you for years, and she's, what, twenty years older than you?"
"Eighteen years. And, it's just, somethin' happened after I got back. It's like a switch was turned on the moment I entered my house and saw 'er standin' there ready to greet me. Somethin' hit the both of us, and... things happened over the course of the next few days up to now. Honestly, I don't really know how I'm gonna move forward, like how I'm gonna face 'er next."
"Just what kind of things happened between the two of you?"
I shrugged. "Things like blushin' around each other, actin' like a total fool... and then this mornin'... I was helpin' 'er with the laundry in the backyard, and we were foldin' this big bed sheet and... we came close. I couldn't help myself since she was right there. I kissed 'er."
Scotty's mouth dropped open. "You kissed her? A forty-some-year-old-woman?"
It irked me a little that he was showing not just shock but a little bit of disgust from finding out I kissed a woman her age. "Yeah, and she kissed me back. It felt like I was gonna melt into goo. The last time that happened to me, when I felt that strongly while kissin' someone was when Anita and I first started out. In fact, I think this was more intense." I let out a long sigh. "I don't know what to do. The Colonel already made it clear that he doesn't want me involved with someone so much older than me, and Daddy... well, maybe the both of 'em feel like I'm just tryin' to adjust to bein' home and missin' my momma at the same time. Mary was another mother figure to me, so..." I rubbed my forehead with my pointer finger and thumb. "Man, this is nuts."
"I'll say. Elvis." I looked up at him. "I think just go along with it. If you two really feel strongly for each other, go for it."
My heart suddenly lifted, and my eyes brightened hopefully. "You think it could work? Even with the age difference?"
He shrugged. "My parents have a bit of years between them. Maybe not as many as you and Mary, but they made it work. I mean, I'm here, aren't I?"
"But your parents weren't a star and his housekeeper. While he likes 'er, The Colonel's against me goin' on with 'er because of who she is and how old she is. It's all image to him. That and a dollar sign."
"If you start something with her, at least you're good for just the money aspect of it."
We both snickered. "Thanks," I said a bit sarcastically, but then got serous again. "Scotty... I'm in love with 'er. I wanna be with 'er, I wanna make 'er feel like she's a beautiful woman since she hasn't thought that way about herself thanks to her cheatin' husband."
"Oh, so she's separated."
"Divorced," I corrected. "And yeah. So... help me out."
"Like I said – go on with her. See what happens. The Colonel and your dad can deal with it."
I nodded, really thinking this through. "Okay. I'll talk to 'er after I come home today, that is, if she's still up by then." I blew air out of my mouth. "Wow-wee."
"Wow-wee is right. I don't think I could fall for a woman old enough to be my mother."
"Mary's eighteen years older than me, so close, I guess. I just think she's so sweet, beautiful..."
Scotty laughed. "Your face is turning into a cherry."
"Can you blame me?"
"Not an ounce." He nodded his head back to the room. "Let's get back in there and make some more music, huh?"
I grinned. "Yeah, let's do it."
We went back in and got into place. As we recorded "All Shook Up," I couldn't help but think of this whole situation and how the song fit it. The time would come when I would talk to Mary and we would figure something out. It was selfish of me, but I wanted to be with her more than I wanted to produce my music. It was shocking, but that was how I felt.
~ ~ ~
I hugged a red throw pillow as I sat there on the white sofa as the little gold clock on the fireplace mantle read 9:06. He could be heading home. Or he could be another hour or two. Regardless, I had to stick this out.
The whole day was spent figuring out what to tell him. I tried calling Sandra three times throughout the day, but she was never available. She was either busy being in class or was busy spending time with her boyfriend. Of all times, she had to be busy. She could have helped me figure something out. That is, after she stopped squealing with glee that she was right all along...
I was in love with Elvis, and he was in love with me. Nothing could change that, no matter what the future held.
The minutes dragged as I continued to sit there, and after the five-hundredth time of glancing at the clock, it became 9:38. Maybe talking to him would have to wait. I yawned. It was passed my bedtime. No. Maybe a few more minutes.
9:41. 9:45. 9:51. 9:58.
"This is ridiculous," I said and got up. "He's probably gonna be home in an hour."
Right as that came out of my mouth, I heard a car's engine outside. My heartrate kicked up to top speed, and I jumped out of the sofa, tossing the pillow on it and standing there in the middle of the living room.
That was him.
"Okay, just stay put and wait for 'im."
The car door shut outside, and I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. My heart banging inside of me in anticipation, and my underarms sweating, I waited.
The door started to jangle.
I couldn't do it.
With as much energy as I could, I bolted to and up the stairs and made it up into the hallway as the door opened. I tried to heave quietly since that was a bit much for my aging body, going that fast up the stairs. My heart still banged as the front door closed, and I went down the hallway and shut myself in my room and leaned against the door.
Why was I such a chicken? Maybe I just didn't like the awkward atmosphere.
Footsteps sounded up the stairs and then went on down the hallway. It seemed as if he had no idea I was in the living room just seconds before he walked in.
"Phew..." I breathed as my heart calmed down, and I went to change into my pajamas, the pink ones that hugged me a little and were modest. They were Elvis's favorite color. "I'm hopeless," I said after I had them on and let my hair out of its bun and it waved passed my shoulders.
Would it be safe to go out there to the bathroom and wash my face and brush my teeth for bed? Elvis was already in his room, so most likely it was.
Mind made up, I went to the door, but halted right as I was about to touch the doorknob.
There were footsteps in the hallway, not ones made with shoes, but maybe bare feet or socks. Knocking suddenly rattled the door. I did nothing, but stood there, debating on whether I should open the door and face him or leave it shut.
"Mary, I know you're in there and you're awake. I can see the line of light at the bottom of the door."
Drat. Well, I have no choice now. After taking a deep breath, and not having time to go for my robe that matched my pajamas, I opened the door to reveal Elvis in the same thing he wore in the morning – that blue collar shirt that matched his eyes and black slacks. The suit coat was absent.
"Hey," he said, smirking and looking dreadfully handsome in the low light of the hallway. "I knew you'd be up."
I stood tall, but still came up to his nose. "Well, If I was asleep, you woke me up."
"You're not ready for bed yet. You still have your makeup on."
He noticed that? Heat encumbered my cheeks, mostly in embarrassment that he caught me. "Well, okay, then. What can I do for you?"
Who was I, a retail clerk?
Elvis's features turned mighty serious, and I gulped. "You know what, Mary."
That kiss came to mind for the thousandth time since it happened. I leaned against the open door, wondering if I should just say we should go to bed and do this later. "Elvis..."
"Could we talk? We really need to."
I had no choice. Plus, he was right. He stepped out of the way as I came out into the dim hallway, lighted by the light that was on above the landing to the staircase down the hallway, plus the light coming out of my bedroom. "Yeah, you're right. We do. And before you say anythin', I want you to..."
He suddenly stepped up close to me, halting my speaking. His face came not a foot away from mine, and I could feel his heat radiating off of him, and that perfume was ever-present. My beath became more frequent as my body reacted to him being so close to me again.
"You want me to... what?" he asked in low and albeit sexy tone that could make any woman weak. "You want me to be this close? You like it since you put your face into my pillow earlier."
I let out a little gasp, and my eyes widened. "How...?"
He smirked cutely. "I could smell your perfume the moment I walked into my room a minute ago, and it was more prevalent on my bed. You went around makin' the beds in the guest rooms and couldn't help but get close to mine, could ya?"
My heartbeat pulsing through my ears and heavily in my chest, I frantically thought of any excuse, but nothing came to mind. He was muddling my head again. "Well, you're right."
"I figured."
His head came closer, and our noses touched. Dazed, I put a hand on his chest to stop what he was going to do. "Elvis... don't."
I kept my gaze on his chest that was seen since his shirt was unbuttoned two buttons down, and I could see the hairs there. Seeing that tickled me in unmentionable places, the same with feeling his head leaning down farther...
I forced myself to turn my head away and then completely walk away from him, and my back faced him.
"Mary..."
"I really can't believe all this. It shouldn't be happening."
"I know, but it is." He took those few steps up to me, and I felt his presence behind me. He placed his hands on my shoulders, and I could feel the heat of his hands through the pajama material. "You know I want you, Mary. It's not a secret I'm tryin' to hide anymore. You can't hide it, either."
I hugged myself tighter, and my eyes stung with tears at his words. "This is so crazy, Elvis. I've known ya for six years, since you were nineteen, and... golly, I was in the middle of my senior year of high school when you were born."
"I don't care about that."
It took a lot of willpower to say, "Well I do. You know it wouldn't work out. Even if I was your age, it wouldn't. I'm your housekeeper. It would be horrible for your image." He was silent for a moment, and that was response enough for me. "Ya see? It wouldn't work."
"But we can just try," he pleaded, shaking me a little. "I know you want me. You wouldn't have kissed me back this mornin' if you didn't."
He was right. But... "It's just not right. I'm sorry, Elvis."
I walked out of his hold, passed him, and went back into my room. As I was walking in, I found arms wrapping around me suddenly, and his heat, scent and the strength of his arms overcame me. "Please, Mary. I... I'm in love with you."
Those tears welled and dropped at his heartfelt confession, and I could feel down deep in my bones that he was serious. My throat caught, and I knew it would be heard when I spoke. "I'm flattered, but... you just came back from the army literally four days ago. You're still adjustin' to bein' home, especially with your mother absent, and you just broke up with your girlfriend. You're still a bit frayed and need time to figure things out."
His hold tightened around my upper torso, and my heart jumped when he leaned in close to my neck and kissed it below my right ear. "Admit that you feel the same way," he demanded in an alluring whisper on my neck. "You're in love with me, too."
"Elvis..." I took hold of his arms and slid them off of me, and I took a couple steps more into my room. "Even if I am, my hands are tied. It won't work out."
"So, you admit that you're in love with me." I said nothing, my lips pressed together. Silence was my answer. "Let's just try this out, then."
I gulped down a lump. Again, he was right. The tears in my eyes and every emotion I was feeling was demanding that I tell him the truth. "Yes," I confessed. "Yes, I'm in love with you, and I want to try this out, but there are obstacles. Let's just drop this and go to bed."
"You know you don't want that, Mary. You just said that you're in love with me."
"It's what's best. I don't want your career to be ruined because of me."
"People would get used to it."
I shook my head. "No, they wouldn't."
"What if we're supposed to happen, huh? Us both fallin' for each other the moment I came through the door on Monday was evidence of it."
My thoughts from earlier, that everything happens for a reason, came to mind. He was right, but I couldn't risk tarnishing his image. My chest hurt because of the strong conflicting emotions I was feeling. "It wouldn't make a difference. We can't change the way things are, how the world works. The stars are in their place and can't be moved."
"What if they can?"
"They can't," I snapped. "Now, let's just not talk about this anymore, okay? Please leave."
"Mary, c'mon..."
I didn't want to turn around and see the broken look on his face. Honestly, this was so incredibly frustrating. After never feeling like another man would see me in such a way, this happens, but with my world-famous friend who I no longer thought as a friend, but as someone who I wanted to love romantically. I did love him romantically. But he was only seven years older than my daughter!
"Okay," Elvis said, defeated, and I noticed the thickness in his voice. "I'll leave. Goodnight."
I pressed my lips together. No. We couldn't leave each other on this sour note. Mustering all my courage, I turned around and saw his back turned to me, but he was stopped at the doorframe, and his right hand was on it, as if stabling himself. I noticed his tense shoulder muscles under his blue shirt.
"Elvis..." He turned his head slightly but didn't show his face. "Really... I'm sorry. We're both adjustin' to our new lives, and... it just takes time." All he did was nod. "Let's just talk later, okay? After some sleep. We're both tired."
His hand balled into a fist against the door frame, and I could see the veins and tendons strain in his hand. Not a second passed before he left and shut the door behind him. I whimpered and sat on my bed.
This had to be done. But was it the right thing to do? I broke his heart and mine. If it all was meant to happen, I was confused as to why it was.
~ ~ ~
I loosely based this chapter on the song "Rewrite the Stars" from "The Greatest Showman" soundtrack. It is sung by Zac Efron and Zendaya, and I think it's a pretty accurate way to describe the way our characters feel. Elvis could sing Zac's part, and Mary could sing Zendaya's part, respectively. The song is a bit bittersweet, but it's good, nonetheless.