the Presleys

chapter 15 - 1953

CECE MARTIN

"There's this tree not too far away...", Elvis started, my gaze shifting onto him only to find out his eyes were already on me. "It ain't like the one in Tupelo, but it's something.", he continued and looked straight ahead.

"Do you go there often?", I chose to ask and caught sight of the biggest tree at the very far end of the park. I predicted for that to be the one Elvis went for.

He breathed out a laugh, nodding. "I-I do, yeah. Mostly to play guitar and, uh, write.", my eyes showed surprise at the information. I caught him writing something earlier, but I didn't imagine him writing actual songs.

I decided to say nothing, letting him continue. "I finished our song. Cece Flora.", he said. "Put it in an envelope and sent it to ya. I'm sorry you never got to read it."

"Elvis—"

Though he ignored me for a second. "There's the tree.", he set the guitar down and took off his jacket, setting it down on the grass. He sat down on it and patted the space beside him.

I sighed. "Elvis. I've never even caught a glimpse of your name. Let alone the song you wrote.", I let out a shaky breath and grasped his hand. "I wouldn't lie about something like that, I promise. I've actually always thought you never got mine."

He squeezed my hand a little. "I found about them letters once you stopped writing 'em.", he revealed. "My mama kept them hidden. Said it would hurt me less.", Elvis let go of my hand and started picking at the grass. "It took me a while to realize that someone was hiding my letters from you."

"What made you realize that?", I asked softly, his eyes moved on mine for a split second.

"You wrote you were sad I wasn't writing back. And you said nothin' about my song."

"But you got mine.", I smiled a little. "And you changed nothin'. Even when I said you could."

"How could I?", he asked, tilting his head so he could look at me. "That was the only thing I had of you. A-And for me to change it with something of my own? I didn't wanna ruin it."

"You wouldn't have."

"You don't know that."

Silence followed after his last statement and I could tell that there was so much we both wanted to say. The letters, the song, the people we have become. So much to say, yet silence filled the air. Was he the same Elvis from all this years ago? Was I the same Cece he expected me to be?

I gently closed my eyes and let out a breath, knowing that it was unrealistic to catch up seven years of our lives in one night. It wasn't right to rush conversations of which outcome neither one of us would've been happy about.

"There's a tune I can't get out of my head.", Elvis broke the silence. I looked at his guitar and then back at him.

"What are you waiting for?", I smiled, his words making him laugh a little.

"It might not be as good as you're expecting it to be.", he leaned over and grabbed the guitar, setting it on his thigh. The gesture made me remember the day he tried to teach me how to play the guitar. I smiled at the sweet memory.

"If it's as good as you made it sound on the radio, then you ain't got nothing to worry about, E.", he looked down as he smiled.

"You really are somethin' else, Cece.", he started pinching the strings, until he moved his eyes on me. "There's, uh, piece of paper in the left pocket. If you could, uh—"

"Of course.", I moved on the grass and fiddled with the pocket until I felt the paper he asked for. Elvis pulled out the napkin from earlier and set in on the grass. I unfolded the paper and found scribbled notes on it.