So, this is the last chapter before the epilogue. I knew this story wasn't going to be as long as my other ones. Also, in this chapter, I added a little detail regarding Pricilla that may or may not be true. I just wanted to add a disclaimer just in case you know her story really well.
~ ~ ~
Was last night all a dream? Did I dream up finally giving in to Elvis? There was only one way to find out: get up out of bed and greet him before he goes off to work.
My alarm went off, and I spent about twenty minutes getting ready for the day. I took extra care with my hair and makeup, but a voice deep down inside of me told me that I didn't need to over-do it. Elvis loved me for me. And yeah, he had more of a reaction to me when I had my hair down and makeup done. Maybe leaving it down wouldn't be a bad idea.
I thought of the night before as I added mascara to my lashes, mainly of that heated kiss in the hallway. That was too real to have been dreamt up. I felt it all. How incredible it was to be kissed like that again...
And with a twenty-five-year-old man. What an insane situation.
My graying blonde hair flowing passed my shoulders, and my eyes popped with the mascara and a bit of brown shadow just on the lid, I left the room, pressing out the skirt to my fitted light-blue dress. It wasn't an every-day two-piece dress but was one that had a short-sleeve top and matching pencil skirt. Sandra picked it out for me back after Elvis left, after my divorce, so he hadn't seen me in it. Sandra told me that it would attract a man since it was flattering and showed my figure.
Heart pounding, I descended the stairs and eventually came into the entryway. There was no one in the living room or dining room. I headed off into the kitchen. No one in there, either. Maybe Elvis was still getting ready. It was only around 6:30am, after all.
I started pot of coffee, and the kitchen soon smelled of the stuff. It was Elvis's favorite kind, which I wasn't fond of at first, but after some time, it became my favorite.
The coffee finished, and I got a pink mug out of the cupboard and poured the coffee from the chrome pot that was more shaped like a pitcher. As I was doing so, I heard footsteps upstairs and then come down the stairs. My pulse heighted since I knew who it was. I stayed where I was at the counter and even turned my body slightly so my back was partially visible to him when he walked in. Was I ready to face him after what happened between us the night before in a dim hallway? After we agreed that we would try this new relationship out?
He stepped into the room, and I held the mug with both hands, my heart really going crazy. Heat encumbered my whole face as I felt his presence near, and as I picked up his intoxicating scent. It would forever be my favorite men's scent.
Arms in black suit coat sleeves suddenly wound around my shoulders, and I carefully set my mug back on the counter. His head leaned down to my left cheek, and I felt a kiss on it. It sent a rather lovely sensation through me. I wondered when I would ever feel that again after Randall. I never knew it was going to happen with Elvis.
"Good mornin'," Elvis muttered in a low tone, and I felt his hot breath hit my cheek. It smelled minty.
"Good mornin'. So... last night wasn't a dream."
"No, it wasn't. I thought the same thing, actually. I figured if it was, I wanted to continue sleepin'."
I smirked, and I loved the feeling of his chest pressed against my back, as well as his heat. "Yeah, me, too. But Elvis... I don't know if this will work. The Colonel's and Vernon are against it."
"We already talked 'bout that last night. The Colonel's against it, Dad's just... well, he'll get used to it. Both of 'em will."
"How about Pricilla? What does she think of all of this?"
He was silent for a moment, then... "I haven't had the opportunity to tell 'er yet. This all happened so fast."
I stepped out of his hold and turned around to face him. My eyes widened. Holy Lord, he looks so incredibly handsome! I planted my hands on me hips, but he spoke before I could reprimand him, and his eyes went probably as wide as mine when I saw himâ
"Wow-wee, look at ya! You're gorgeous, Mary."
Gorgeous. The last time I heard that complement from a man was over a decade ago. "Thank you. But Elvis... you haven't told Pricilla?"
He stuffed his hands into his black slacks pockets. Again, it was just a white shirt and black suit ensemble, but he looked so darn good. "Yeah... Like I saidâeverythin' regardin' you and me happened so fast. I guess I just wanted to wait until you and I were really somethin' before I told Pricilla anythin'."
I nodded. "Well... I think you should call 'er today at some point. Gauge when a good time would be because of the time difference, and call 'er. She seems like a nice girl, and one who deserves to know what's goin' on. I..." I took a breath and folded my arms. "I actually feel badly about this whole thing, on her behalf. In fact, how 'bout I call 'er?"
His brows shot up to his dark hair that was styled in that pompadour. "You wanna call 'er?"
"I think at least one of us should. She knows who I am, right? Have you talked about me to 'er?"
"Yeah, I have. I've told 'er all about home, includin' the people closest to me."
They probably talked for lengthy periods of time. Jealousy pricked my chest, as well as guilt. "I see."
"I'll just call 'er. She should hear it from me."
"Okay. That's fair."
We stood there for a moment, and only two seconds passed before he took the few needed steps up to me, took my face in his hands, leaned down, and kissed me. My heart jumped when he did so. He drew back before I could do anything. A playful smirk played on his lips, and I couldn't say anything due to my daze. I already discovered that he could make me muddle-headed rather quickly.
"Just because I can do it now," he said. He leaned in again, but I put two fingers over my lips. He leaned back, puzzled.
"No more until you call Pricilla. Now off you go. I think I hear the Colonel comin' up to the door."
As if that were the cue, the front door opened, and we both heard the Colonel shout, "Good morning, all!"
Elvis chuckled. "Okay, okay. No kissin' until I call Pricilla."
"No nothin' until you call 'er."
His features sagged. "Oh, c'mon."
I shook my head. "Nope. Now get outta here."
"You liked it, though, right?"
"What do you think?"
My own playful smirk and sly glint in my eyes left him grinning. "Okay. I'll see ya tonight. Should I tell the Colonel?"
"Go ahead. I know you and I will get a reprimand."
"We'll survive." He about left the kitchen, but stopped, a gentle gaze on his face. "I love you, Mary."
Saying it back wouldn't hurt. "I love you, too."
That grin came back, and he left the kitchen. I leaned against the counter, my coffee forgotten.
This was real. I was really in a relationship with Elvis Presley.
~ ~ ~
The only time available for me to call Pricilla was noon my time and about eight in the evening her time. It would be too early in the morning for her by the time I returned home.
At the studio, I found a phone, one in a little office that was void of anyone. I sat down in a chair near itâit was sitting on a desk belonging to someone. I had memorized her family's home phone there in Germany, as well as the number to call internationally. Of course, the lady on the other end who would connect me to Germany recognized my voice and said now much of a fan she was of me. It was a bit funnyâmy fans were everywhere. They were even the operator people.
After she calmed down, she connected me, and I heard the phone ringing. As it did, my manager came into the room, hands on his hips over his gray slacks. He didn't want me to break up with Pricilla, but I already made the decision to. He wasn't too thrilled, either, when I told him about me and Mary.
"Just hang up, Elvis," he told me, but someone answered the phone. I held up a hand to the Colonel, and he huffed and leaned against the doorframe.
"Beaulieu residence," came the very familiar voice that I grew to love when I was over there. Now, I was just happy to talk to her.
"Hello, Pricilla."
She gasped. "Oh my, Elvis! I was wondering when you would be calling. It's been over a week since you came home."
"I know, and I'm sorry for not callin' sooner. I was crazy busy with a lot of things, and... some other things happened that I wanna tell ya about. But first, how are ya?"
"I'm wonderful! I've just been following Mom and Dad around and spending time with family and friends. We have time to talk about all that later, though. We only have a few minutes. Tell me about what it's like being home."
With international calls, the call would be cut after about three minutes. I could call again, but that would bring the studio company an extra fine. I would pay it, of course. "Well... like I said, it's been busy. I was in interviews the moment I came off the train in Memphis, and a party was thrown for me at Graceland. Mary made me a guitar cake."
"I'll bet it was delicious. You talked about her cooking and baking."
I was trying to ease into what I wanted to tell her. "Well, yeah, it was great. From then on, I've been busy with more interviews and cuttin' records. Mostly that, and..."
"And what?"
Time was running out. I should be quick with it. I knew the Colonel wouldn't want me to call her again. We were on a tight schedule. "Um... listen Pricilla..."
"This doesn't sound good. Are you alright?"
I smirked at her concern. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. I'm better than okay, actually. But you may not be after what I tell ya, and I'm sorry about that."
"What's going on?"
I pressed my lips together, and I could feel the seconds tick by. "You remember all the fun times we had when I was over there, especially before I left, right?"
"Of course I do."
"Then you recall me tellin' ya that we would be somethin' after your father's done with his service."
"Yeah..."
She seemed unsure about where this conversation was going. Out with it, boy! "Pricilla, I'm just goin' to be blunt, okay? I fell in love with another woman, and it's a bit serious, so I don't think you and I will work out."
There was silence on the other line for a few seconds, and my heart pounded in anticipation as I waited for her response. Finally, "Oh. Okay."
I could hear the disappointment. "I'm sorry. I just needed to be honest with ya since things have happened between me and this other woman rather fast."
"It's not Anita? It wouldn't be since she was your girlfriend."
She knew about Anita. "No. I actually broke up with 'er because of this other woman. So... you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay. Honestly, I thought it all to be a dream, meeting you and being in a little relationship with you. I guess the dream has to end. Well... Elvis... it ended a little bit ago."
The Colonel tapped his watch. I maybe had twenty seconds left. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that a few days ago, I met someone else, too. He's another GI, and we've been on a few dates."
My brows rose, not expecting this. "Really?"
"Yeah, so don't feel bad. Now, let's say goodbye for now, and maybe we can talk about this later since the call's going to drop."
"Okay. Talk to ya later, Pricilla."
"Yes, you, too. Good luck with that other woman. I'm happy for you."
I smiled. "Thanks. I am for you, too. Goodbye, and good luck with that GI."
"Thanks."
The call dropped, and a long drone sounded in my ear. I put the phone back on the receiver and glanced up at my manager. His arms were folded. "You had to."
I stood up and faced him. "It had to be done. Plus, she was okay with it. She found herself another guyâa GI who's probably someone I worked with. Plus, it's better that I not be involved with a girl some people would call a kid."
"You were smitten with her, though."
"Yeah, now I'm smitten with someone else." I put my hands in my pockets, my idea bouncing in my head. "Colonel... I wanna tell the press about Mary, about what she really means to me, and how I really feel about 'er."
As expected, he shook his head. "No. Being involved with that girl in Germany was one thing, but being involved with someone who's going to be fifty in seven years..."
"People wouldn't be callin' me a pedophile, though, Colonel."
He pressed his lips together, and our gazes held as he thought about this. He finally let out a sigh. Yeah, it was better for me to be involved with someone who wasn't considered a kid. "You're so stubborn, you know that? You get that from both sides of your family."
I laughed. "Yeah, I do, especially from Grandpa Presley. So, can I tell the press the next time they come up to me?"
A black-haired man with fair skin and looking around thirty appeared in the doorway and told us that the studio was ready for the next records. The Colonel told him we'd be there in a moment, and he faced me again, and the man left.
"Okay, fine, Elvis," the Colonel said. "I would rather you not, but... I approve of Mary. She's a good woman. If you break her heart like Randall did, though, you'll have hell to pay with several people who know and love her, and that includes me."
I took in a let out a large breath, preparing myself to say, "I'm not gonna do anythin' of the sort. No more goin' behind my girlfriend's back. I'm not gonna be like Randall. It sickens me that I was even remotely like 'im before."
The Colonel clapped my shoulder and patted it. "I'm glad you finally had this epiphany. Now let's go. The studio's ready."
"Okay."
We left to finish cutting some records, and the moment I stepped out of the building so the Colonel and I could grab some dinner, reporters hounded us and started throwing questions at me. This happened everywhere I went, so I was very used to it... just, I wanted to tell them something shocking.
"Do you feel like you've adjusted to being home, Mr. Presley, after a week?" asked a male reporter who resembled that guy with the black hair.
"I think so. I'm pretty accustomed to bein' home now."
"Have you contacted that young lady you met in Germany?" asked another reporter, a blonde man around my age. "What news could you tell us about her?"
I smirked, a bit nervous about revealing this. "Well... I'll tell ya that it was only a small thing that we had back in Germany, and that's it. It's not goin' to progress any farther than that."
"So you did have something with her? You said in a previous interview that there wasn't anything special with this girl."
"There wasn't, really. I called 'er not long ago and told 'er that what we had was nice, but it wouldn't work out..." Here it goes. "Since I fell in love with another woman."
They all became an excited frenzy, and more questions were thrown. I heard from a woman, but I didn't see who, "Who is the woman? Did you meet her in Germany or when you came home?"
"I've known 'er since I was nineteen. She and my mother were good friends. It was through her that we met."
"Could you give us a name?" asked a man.
I looked at my manager, and he had his head bowed to the ground, showing the top of his tan fedora. He didn't like this one bit, but too much had already been said.
"Well..." I began, "you have heard her name beforeâMary Pendleton."
I heard some of the reporters gasp, and the other ones continued to ask who she was. One man who most likely read that article about Mary asked, "Mr. Presley, you fell in love with your housekeeper?!"
The shocked looks on all the reporters faces, as well as some fans that I noticed were in the mixâteen girls, mostlyâwas almost comical. I had to say the truth.
"Yes, I did. I fell in love with my forty-three-year-old housekeeper."
~ ~ ~
Had Elvis called Pricilla? I knew the time difference to Germany, and the only decent time for him to call her so it wouldn't be really late her time or in the early morning would be around lunch time. It was already seven. He would be home in a few hours, maybe two.
"He said he would," I told myself as I gazed out the window at the trees in the massive yard, and the sun had only just started lowering. "It may be tomorrow."
Honestly, I was impatient for it. I selfishly didn't want to wait long to be kissed again. Or held. Or told that I'm beautiful.
"Just be patient," I said. "It's a virtue."
But it would drive me insane waiting. I had to do something to pass the time. The chores were done, as was dinner. Maybe watch a sitcom on my television? I eyed the far gate, the entrance to Graceland's property.
"I haven't checked the mail in a few days. I've always forgotten."
To blame was my age and what was going on with me and Elvis.
Decided, I took my white cardigan and put it on since it was most likely a little chilly outside. After grabbing a woven basket to put the mail in, I left the house and walked on down the drive in rather pleasant air. It wasn't warm nor cold, but a little cooler than room temperature. A soft wind blew, rustling the leaves in the trees a bit.
"This is nice," I said and eventually came to the gate. I had to go outside it so I could check the mailbox that was near the security stand. Fans filled the large mailbox sometimes. I took the mail key out of my skirt pocket and opened the box. As expected, it was crammed. I commenced filling the basket with the mail. When finished, and I closed the top on the basket, I heard a commotion of people near the road. I looked over and saw cars park there and people coming out of them.
Reporters. Here we go.
"Ma'am, are you Mary Pendleton, Elvis Presley's housekeeper?" asked a man with black hair and fair skin. All these reporters surrounded me, notepads and pencils ready. They wanted to know about me because of that article a couple days back.
"Yes, that's me."
"Is it true that you and Mr. Presley are romantically involved?"
My mouth dropped open. "How on God's green earth...?"
"Mr. Presley confirmed it for us earlier today," said another man, "and revealed breaking up with his Germany girlfriend for you. Do you support this?"
Elvis already called Pricilla! Apparently, he was impatient as well. "Um... well..."
"Please, can you confirm this, Ms. Pendleton?" asked a brunette woman maybe around thirty.
I looked around at all the hungry reporters, starved for a juicy story. No doubt Colonel Parker wasn't happy about this. I opened my mouth, but as soon as I did, some man shouted, "Mr. Presley!"
A gasp escaped meâI couldn't help it. I saw Elvis make his way through the crowd of reporters and some screaming fans and came up to me, immediately putting an arm around my shoulders.
"Can you tell us the true nature of your relationship with an older woman, Mr. Presley?" a man asked, and I pressed my lips together, not liking how he made me sound like someone far older. Well, I was, but I still didn't like it.
"What did she tell ya already?" he asked.
"Nothing. Could you elaborate? You said you are in love with her. Does she feel the same?"
I said nothing, my lips still pressed together.
"Is this news to you, Ms. Pendleton? Your expression says it all."
"Are you in love with not only a world-famous star, but a man around twenty years your junior?"
"When did you start having feelings for your housekeeper, Mr. Presley?"
The questions came rapidly, and my heart raced. Elvis's strong hold on me gave me some strength, and the Lord did as well since I said a silent prayer to help me get through this.
"Yes, I'm in love with Elvis," I confessed before Elvis could answer that question, and girls screamed, and the reports went nuts. "I've known 'im since he first started out back when he was nineteen, but I didn't feel anything for 'im romantically until after he came back from Germany. It was as if God turned on a switch for the both of us, and... well, here we are."
I noticed Elvis look down at me as the reporters asked more questions. One stood out to the both of us...
"How long do you think this cougar relationship will last?" a man asked, and my chest pricked at the term. Of course, that was what a relationship between an older woman and younger man was called, but still.
"I don't know," I said, then Elvis put in, "I hope it's a long one. I'm crazy about this woman, and I plan to never even think of goin' after another one again."
I looked up at Elvis this time, after he said that, surprise on my face. "Elvis..."
He gazed down lovingly at me with those blue eyes, and it seemed as if the growing crowd of people disappeared. "What? You already know it." He turned me around, placing each hand on each of my shoulders.
"Yeah, but... a long relationship? I didn't know that."
"Don't you hope that, too? Our love story only just began."
He was right. He had been home for only nine days. I stared up at his handsome face, not believing this was happening, that I found love again after my heart was ripped to shreds with my previous marriage and divorce.
"I do hope that," I said, and he grinned. In front of all the reporters and fans, he wrapped his arms around me, leaned down and kissed me. As everyone around us went nuts, I wrapped my arms around his neck, not ever wanting to let go, and kissing him just as wholeheartedly and passionately as he was kissing me. So what if he was younger and I was older? Finding someone who made you feel loved, wanted, desired and beautiful was such a rare thing.
Yes, I wouldn't let this go for anything. It was selfish, but sometimes, a person has to be selfish in love. That's how they keep a hold on it. This was what God wanted for me and for Elvis, to feel whole again after suffering from two very different types of loss, but equally as heart-breaking. We helped each other heal and would continue to do so. It was what we both deserved.