𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒄 | 𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒚 ˚୨୧⋆｡

𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓

June 24, 1955

━━I MADE MY WAY DOWN MADISON AVE,
tapping my fingertips against my steering wheel to the beat of 'It's You, It's You I Love' by The Chordettes. My gaze was locked on the road before me, my mind stuck on the other night. Had he thought of me in the time we were apart? Or had he rid all old feelings from his mind? I wasn't sure which I would have preferred. I thought of all this while driving to his apartment. I still remembered where he lived. 252 North Lauderdale Street. Apartment 328.

I admired the primroses and the bluebonnets blooming down Bellevue Boulevard, trying not to worry myself insane. It seemed as though my mind always running at a million miles per minute. It was starting to make me dizzy.
What did it matter, anyway? We weren't in high school anymore. We were just friends. The same as we've always been.

I pulled into the parking lot of the Lauderdale Courts as I did so many times before, taking my keys from the ignition of my 1953 Chevrolet Corvette. It was a graduation present from Daddy. I got out, shutting the door behind me.

My heels clicked against the gravel road, my heart thudding in my chest as I approached the front of the complex. The late June sun hung low in the Tennessee sky, casting a warm, amber light across each window pane of the building. I started through the door.

As I made my way down the hall to 328, I heard the muffled cries of an infant echoing from behind a passing door. My heart ached at the sound. I loved children, dearly so. During my first semester at college, I thought maybe I'd like to become a school teacher. My parents advised against it. I obeyed their word.

When I looked up again, I had already reached his door. I hesitated before knocking, remembering the last time I'd been here. We were seventeen, all dolled up and dapper for the prom. We went together, that year. He was the only boy that would take me. I pinned on his corsage as his mother took photos, trying to keep her eyes from tearing. They did anyway. My dress was baby pink; and so big I could hardly walk in it. Elvis and I drank Shirley Temples and danced longer than anyone else in our class. It was the same night I told him I was going away to school in Alabama.
But now, here I was.

I only lasted half a semester away from home. College just wasn't right for me. I'm not really too sure what is.

I raised my hand and knocked softly. And before I could so much as tousle my hair, the door creaked open, and there stood Elvis.
"Hey, Doll," He smiled, stepping stepped aside to let me in.
I footed inside, letting the familiar scent of his home take me back to a place of innocence and naivety.

"There was a baby cryin'," I pouted, looking up at him with round eyes.
He flashed me a sly smile, his arm resting above his head as he leaned on the doorframe.
"That's what babies do. They cry." He nodded, looking down at me as I turned to face him.
I slipped my sweater off, turning to hang it on the coat rack. "It makes me sad." I sighed.

The living room hadn't changed much since we were kids— just a few more magazines piled on the coffee table, and a new radio on the shelf. Still, it felt different to me. Smaller, quieter. I could still remember the afternoons I'd spent here, listening to records and talking about making some of our own one day.
"What are you gonna do when you're a mama?" He said, shutting the door behind me.
I placed my pocketbook on the side table.
"Goodness, I ain't gonna be a mama," I said, smacking my head.
"Yeah, you are." He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close.

I hugged him back, plastering on a smile.
I always knew I wasn't cut out for motherhood. But I decided not to say anything more. It wasn't wise to argue with Elvis.

We broke from our embrace as Elvis' mother appeared in the living room.
"Mama, you remember Molly Mae, don't you?" Elvis turned to her, his hand placed on the small of my waist.
"Of course I do," She embraced me warmly.