Girl of Mine

Chapter 53 - Great

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Rosalie POV

The 1st of July, 1957

Gladys' usual lively spirit was lost to something that wasn't there, as her dark and soft locks framed her saddened outlook.

The day had just about begun for my part, but it seemed it had already taken its toll on Elvis' poor Mama. In the hold of nothing, her empty glossy eyes stared outwards. Finding my way to her side, I pulled a chair out to take a seat next to her by the dining table. «Gladys, why don't you join me and Billy for a card game?»

Smiling gently with plump cheeks and upset eyes, she turned her sweet face to me. «Oh, sweety, I'd rather just have a moment to myself. I... I might want to do something later, though. Maybe knit? I'm out of rose pink yarn, though... and I could need a few new colors too. I'm sure one of the guys could get my order later this week.»

Coming up with a plan, I gave her a trusted look and a steady smile. «You know..? I'll be back, Gladys. I'll put on a cup of tea for you, and I'll see you later today. Don't you worry about the yarn.»

«Thank you, Rosalie, honey.» She said sweetly, fondly attaching herself to my hand.

◌ ◌ ◌

Turning the key, I had taken my place in the piece of butter Elvis had chosen as my car. It had been a while since I last drove, and I actually had never driven my own car. It never came to the point of having to use it.

I hadn't been outside the gates of Graceland since Hollywood and before that?—not since the library or the press conference. Thinking through it—like really thinking through it, I found it immensely bizarre.

In my days back in Madison, that life had me living relatively independently since I took the job at Next. Those days seemed long gone by now, only hearing about the paper through Patty in our weekly calls. She missed me a whole lot, and I could not lie—I did too.

From sounds of passing air and signs of quietness, it submerged for the new calls of the motor starting up. With the first step taken on the drive down to the gate, I rolled out from the open wooden white long-stretched garage holding the many cars of Elvis' and the rest of the residences.

The only thing shielding them from the skies was the back wall and the many tall posts holding its roof—no wonder my hair flew everywhere from casting wind. Annoyingly, I believed Elvis' hair would have stood just as still as the construction itself if he were here. And he would probably be laughing in my face. I sure remember all my windy curly disasters while his otherwordly hair stood the test of anything and everything.

◌ ◌ ◌

On a sunny day like this, Graceland's forever-going roads and woods could almost convince anyone you'd reached paradise on Earth. Looking like the path leading out from a resort rather than a home, I found myself enjoying the very fact it was summer, and not a single worry found its way to me.

Midway through, craved urges had me rolling down the window to throw my arm out, catching the wind and flickering sun rays that passed between the swift-flying leaves.

◌ ◌ ◌

I'd wondered about the size of the gates before, and with yet no found answer, they towered taller and taller as I closed in on the gates. There was no difference in the number of fans gathered on the outside than any other day. Slowing down considerably, I came to a halt. A bright smile made up my face as my eyes found a calm figure. Travis, the main guard of Graceland and Gladys' brother and Billy's father, gave me a flat smile.