Chapter 2

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1962

She wasn't supposed to be here, yet Carol Ann crouched in front of the grave of Gladys Love Presley, her son fast asleep against her shoulder. AJ's dark, heavy eyelashes fluttered. His little chubby face scrunched up against the fabric of her shirt.

The skies overcast the sun's warm touch, perfectly representing Carol Ann's gloomy mood.

She sobbed in big gusty gales in an attempt to purge all the pain she had kept locked inside. She clutched AJ to her chest, seeking comfort in his little body close to hers.

Keeping bitterness in your heart was not healthy and she would try as she might to shed the bitterness she felt toward Elvis.

She would just forget him. But how in the world could she forget him when his face stared back at her from magazines and movie billboards? With her luck, AJ would grow up to be the spitting imagine of him, making it impossible to ever forget him.

She would just have to pretend. Because if you pretended long enough you'd start believing it yourself in the end.

So she went home and deposited of the pictures she had of herself and Elvis before loading all of her Elvis albums and memorabilia, already packed away in boxes in her closet, into her truck to drive them down to the thrift store.

Elvis probably forgot all about her already.

♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪

1972

Something wasn't right. Dread overcame her when she stepped into the house. Still, there was nothing out of place at first glance. Her mother bustled around the kitchen with an apron tied around her waist and AJ was sitting at the kitchen table. He was staring out into space with a pensive expression on his face, but even that wasn't too unusual. Though also athletic, he was an introspective kind of child who'd often daydream or curl up with a book

"Hey, child of mine," Carol Ann greeted him. "Somethin' on your mind?"

"No," he grumbled. "Grandma said—"

"Aaron, leave it," Louann snapped, setting down a skillet with more force than necessary.

Carol Ann swiveled, turning onto her mother. "You don't have to snap at him."

"You know Elvis Presley?" AJ sputtered. "Cause he . . . " He trailed off when he saw the looks on his mother's and grandmother's faces, Carol Ann's suddenly pale and Louann's contorted in anger.

"He was here," Louann said through gritted teeth. "But I done told him not to show his face here again cause there's no explaining—"

"That was not your place!" The volume and intensity of her voice surprised Carol Ann as much as her mother and son. "I'm not twenty anymore. I'm a grown woman—"

"Well, he'll only hurt you more than he already did," Louann screamed.

"Sometimes, mother, you have to let your children make their own choices and get hurt."

AJ slowly slid out of his chair and tip-toed out of the room.

Carol Ann followed, grabbed him by the arm and crushed him against her chest. "You don't have to go anywhere now. Mama and grandma are done fightin'." Her volatile eyes drifted over to her mother.

Images of Elvis and the things they had done together played through her head. Carol Ann tried to block them out, but they just kept on coming, one after the other until her head felt like it was going to burst open. She did not think about Elvis anymore these days, at least she tried not to.

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