Blue Like Elvis

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Blue Like Elvis Page 10

by Diane Moody

“Am I too late?”

  Everyone welcomed him, Rich rustled up a couple of hot dogs for him, and he quickly joined the party.

  “Shelby, how’s it going?” He took the seat Burt had vacated.

  “Good, Trevor. Late shift?”

  “Yeah, but I needed some fresh air. I decided to chance it and make the drive. Glad everyone’s still here.”

  “Good. I’m glad you made it.”

  He chomped on his meal for a minute then washed it down with a Coke. “Have you talked to Tucker lately?”

  I realized then that Rachel had never finished what she started to tell me about Tucker when I first arrived. “Oh, uh, no. Haven’t seen him or heard from him. You?”

  He looked around, obviously making sure no one else was listening to our conversation. “Well, sure. Tuck and I work together a lot. I guess you heard he and Cassie split.”

  I finger-combed my hair back from my face. “Yeah, Sandra and I happened to be passing them in the hall when it happened.”

  “Oh, that must have been rough.”

  “It wasn’t pretty. How’s he doing?”

  “Truthfully? He’s fine. Really. A bit awkward since she’s been very vocal about it all. But between you and me?” He paused, leaned toward me, then whispered, “He’s extremely relieved. Ol’ Tuck got hog-tied into that one from the start.”

  “Hog-tied?”

  “Hog-tied. The Judge called up Tuck’s dad, and the next thing you know the kids are dating. I think he was okay about it at first. Then Cass just started assuming things, making plans—basically just tugging Tuck along in the process. The visit to the jewelery store . . .” He shook his head and blew out a long sigh. “Cass had already picked out a two-carat flawless diamond. Shelby, the thing had a $125,000 price tag on it.”

  “Oh my gosh.”

  “Tucker just laughed. He was sure she was kidding. Like it was some kind of joke.”

  “She wasn’t?”

  “Noooooo,” he said, shaking his head with conviction. “She’d already made a down-payment to hold it.” He took another sip of his Coke. “When Tucker said no, that’s when she laughed. She assured him she didn’t expect him to pay for it. The only reason she’d asked him to come was to see if he liked it.”

  “Ouch?”

  “Yeah. Trust me, even to a broke resident with massive college loans hanging over my head, that’s a low blow to any guy’s ego. Instant emasculation.”

  “I get that.”

  “Seriously. But it was only a matter of time. If it wasn’t the ring, it would have been something else. Tuck’s heart wasn’t in it.”

  “So if he’s okay, how come he’s been missing in action? I haven’t seen him around the hospital or church or anywhere.”

  “Ah, that’s our Tuck. He’s trying to give it time to blow over. He’s around. Just flying under the radar until the melodrama subsides.”

  “I’m glad he’s okay. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s too nice a guy to get bullied.”

  Trevor’s brow dipped. “What’s wrong with saying that?”

  “Remember, Tuck and I have history.”

  “Ohhhh, that’s right. I forgot.”

  “Trevor! When did you get here?” Sandra asked, clapping him on the back.

  “Just a little while ago. Didn’t see you here, Senorita Garcia. How’s it going?”

  She plopped down on my lap and swung her legs. “Good! Especially now that you’re here!” She let loose one of her signature laughs.

  We chatted and made more S’mores even though everyone else was starting to leave. I would have stayed all night. Under the stars, the wonderful scent of the wood burning, the cool night air. Heaven.

  Instead, I helped Rachel and Rich finish cleaning up while Sandra and Trevor talked. And talked and talked. They laughed and talked some more. Rachel elbowed me, nodded her head in their direction, and raised her eyebrows. “Well?”

  Well, indeed.

  Chapter 14

  “JIMMY! Over here!” I was standing at the fence just off the tarmac at NAS Millington watching my brother plow down the steps of the huge cargo plane with a bunch of sailors.

  He looked so different. So grown up. I’d have to get used to that. Still the same handsome face, same prominent jaw line, with the same seriously masculine air about him. His brown hair, same shade as mine, was surprisingly shaggy. Last time I’d seen him, it was practically buzzed. He’d filled out a lot too. As if he’d been working out. I couldn’t believe how much he’d changed. Suddenly he started running toward me, then dropped his duffel and scooped me up in his arms.

  “Moonpie!” He planted a wet sloppy kiss on my cheek and hugged me hard. “You look great!”

  “So do you! I can’t believe you’re finally home!”

  “It’s about time, huh?” He set me back down and gathered his gear. “Let’s get out of here.”

  We wasted no time stashing his stuff in my trunk.

  “I see the old man bought you a new Caddy. Nice wheels, Sis.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s got one for you, no doubt a convertible all shined and polished. He’ll probably hand you the keys before he or Mom even give you a hug.”

  “Here’s hoping. He told me they’ve got a loaner for me here at Brentwood’s so I can drive down to Birmingham.”

  “That’s Dad. Always a step ahead.”

  I was so glad my brother was here. Safe in my car. All in one piece. No longer in the jungles of that faraway country where our defeat still defined the wounded soul of our nation. No longer on the other side of the earth. Home. Safe.

  On the drive back to Memphis, we talked a mile a minute. It was a little strange, my annoying brother all morphed into this big soldier with a lot of mileage under his belt. I could tell he was happy to be back in the states, and especially glad to be back in the South. My heart ached when I looked into those gorgeous brown eyes of his. They looked tired. Like eyes that had seen too much.

  As we approached the skyline of downtown, he said, “Hey, I would kill for some ribs. Are you hungry?”

  “Funny you should ask.”

  A few minutes later we parked just off Beale Street and made our way to the back alley entrance of The Rendezvous. The famous restaurant had always been Jimmy’s favorite, so he wasn’t at all surprised when I suggested it.

  If you’ve ever been to Memphis, you’ve heard of the famous basement rib joint. The son of Greek immigrants, Charlie Vergos first opened his restaurant as a sandwich shop. But his sandwiches were different from others in downtown Memphis. Charlie smoked his ham and chicken in, of all things, a pit which was fitted into a coal chute. His sandwiches sold by the hundreds. When a meat salesman one day left him a case of ribs, Charlie decided to spice them up a bit. His secret blend of Greek and American spices became the famous dry rib seasoning which would set his restaurant apart and delight customers for decades to come.

  But it wasn’t just the ribs and side dishes that made the Rendezvous so unique. Charlie took good care of his employees. Many have been with him since the ‘50s and ‘60s, and a few of them had kids of their own who now worked there. It was truly a family affair.

  He stopped, closing his eyes as he inhaled the scent of barbecue that filled the air. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this moment—to taste these ribs again.

  I laughed and patted him on the back as he rubbed his stomach in anticipation. “Which is precisely why I drove you straight here from the base!”

  Of course, he had no idea we wouldn’t be dining alone.

  As we descended the staircase, I scoped the dining area for familiar faces, hoping I wouldn’t see any. For a Sunday evening, the place was unusually busy. I gave our name to the head waiter with my back turned to my brother. “Colter. Party of two.” I winked. A warm smile spread across his dark face as he acknowledged the name. “Yes, ma’am. Right this way.”

  He led us toward a private room in back, throwing open the doors as the crowd inside shouted, “W
ELCOME HOME!”

  “What have you done, baby sister?” Jimmy shouted, planting his hands on his hips.

  “I wanted you to know how happy I am to have you home, so we threw a little party!”

  He wrapped me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. In a moment he was swept into the room filled with friends new and old. Tucker bear-hugged Jimmy before we’d barely entered. The greetings went on for several minutes, mostly by his old childhood friends. I took my time introducing him to some of the girls from work, and of course, Sandra.

  “Hola, Jimmy! You’re even more handsome in person!” she shouted, giving him a hug. “¡Bienvenido! Welcome to your party, hermano mayor!”

  Rachel waddled over and gave him a hug. “You don’t know me, but I’m Rachel, Shelby’s roommate from Samford. I’ve prayed for you for as long as I’ve known her. It’s so good to finally meet you!”

  “Nice to meet you too, Rachel. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  She swiped at a renegade tear. “And this is my husband, Rich.”

  Rich shook my brother’s hand. “Welcome home!”

  Jimmy took it all well, considering he’s usually not one for all the fuss. He seemed impressed with the huge banner we’d made and all the red, white, and blue balloons bobbing around the room, but mostly he enjoyed getting reacquainted with old friends and making a few new ones.

  Eventually we all took our seats as the waiters brought in family-style platters of the famous ribs, chicken, brisket, and all the sides. Jimmy didn’t hold back, devouring the ribs on his plate along with the companion beans and slaw. I hoped he didn’t make himself sick. Tucker teased him mercilessly. It was good to see them both laughing like that.

  I was surprised how well the different factions of our little group blended. Everyone seemed to have a great time and lingered for several hours. Somewhere around 9:30, I realized it was just the four of us—Jimmy, Tucker, Sandra, and me. We settled in over last bites of dessert and coffee, enjoying the afterglow of the evening.

  Jimmy nodded at Tucker and me. “Who would have thought, after all these years, that you two would actually be friends? Seriously, Tuck, after that stunt you pulled putting Ex-Lax in her chocolate malt, I didn’t think she’d ever speak to you again.”

  I doubled over, remembering the awful experience and the horrible after-effects. “Oh, Jimmy, please. Did you have to remind me?” I punched Tucker in the arm. “That was terrible!”

  It took him a while to stop laughing. “Y’know, for the life of me I can’t figure out why we were so mean to you.”

  “Well, that’s a no-brainer,” Jimmy said. “She was an easy target. Made our mischief all the more fun.”

  “Didn’t you ever retaliate?” Sandra asked, before licking the last bite of chocolate from her fork.

  “Believe me, I tried. I stole their beloved baseball cards. I hid my old Barbies in their lunchboxes—”

  “Now, for the record, that was just wrong,” Tucker interrupted, holding up his hands. “Do you have any idea how much flak I caught when I opened my lunchbox that day? The guys teased me about that for over a year, no thanks to you.” He fake-punched my shoulder.

  “I make no apologies. It was well-deserved and you know it.”

  “Atta girl, Shelby,” Sandra cheered.

  We chatted a while longer, then Jimmy asked, “Tuck, where’s this fancy girlfriend of yours? How come she’s not here tonight?”

  An uncomfortable silence drifted across the table until Tucker finally answered. “Well, old buddy, I’m afraid you’re a little late. We’re no longer together, as of a couple weeks ago.”

  “Oh,” Jimmy said, sitting back. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “No problem,” Tucker answered quickly. “Really. It’s all good. Just wasn’t meant to be. Which puts me in the same boat with your sister here.” He nodded at me, giving me one of those looks you give someone who’s been where you’ve been. Sort of . . .

  “That’s right, Moonpie,” Jimmy said, after draining the last of his coffee. “Mom and Dad said the reason you moved here was to get away from all the stress after dumping Will.”

  “Jimmy, I did not ‘dump’ Will.”

  “Sure you did. And it’s a good thing. He’s Navy. Need I say more? You deserve a lot better.” He winked at me, then added, “Someone like Tuck here.”

  “Oh, please,” I groaned, hoping to cover my embarrassment. “With our history, that would be most unlikely.”

  “Yeah,” Tucker added, refolding his napkin. “I’ll always be Chubby Tucker to her. Not exactly the stuff of romance.”

  “And I’ll always be Moonpie to him.”

  “I feel so left out with no nickname,” Sandra said, faking a good pout. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a nickname with you guys?”

  “Jimmy, what do you think?” Tucker studied my roommate.

  “I don’t know, Tuck. Something Puerto Rican? Something a little spicy perhaps?”

  Jimmy snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! We’ll call you Chiquita. Our favorite little banana.”

  Sandra laughed, clapping her hands. “I like that! Chiquita it is.”

  Our waiter stopped by to refill our coffee cups. “It’s been a real pleasure to serve you this evening,” he said, emptying his carafe into Jimmy’s cup. “And especially to you, sir. Welcome home and thank you for your service for our country.” He extended his hand, and my brother shook it.

  “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

  “However,” he said, setting down the carafe then reaching for our remaining dishes. “We got to move you all outta here. We got a private party coming in and that means it’s time for you all to skedaddle.”

  “Whoa, that’s a late party,” Tucker said as we got up and gathered our things. “I didn’t realize you all were open that late.”

  “We aren’t,” he said. “But sometimes ol’ Charlie gets a call with a special request and we make allowances.” His brows danced as he left the room.

  “Well, I guess that means we’re done here.” I pulled down the banner to give to Jimmy. “So, big brother, did you enjoy your party?”

  He wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we left the room. “I sure did. Thanks for going to all the trouble. And for including Chubby Tucker. That took guts.”

  “I heard that,” Tuck chimed in as he escorted Sandra up the stairs behind us.

  As we made our way down the alley, several cars suddenly pulled up on Beale Street as we rounded the corner. Doors flew open as a bunch of men and women emerged from the long white vehicles. Limousines? We tried not to stare, but curiosity kept turning our heads back.

  Then, just before we rounded the corner to head to our cars, we saw him. Though to be honest, it was more of just a glimpse of him. Elvis Presley hustling out of a limo with a beautiful girl on his arm.

  “Did you see that?!” Sandra squealed. “It’s Elvis!”

  “Are you sure?” Jimmy asked. “All I saw were the sideburns. Could’ve been anyone.”

  “No, it was him! I recognized Dr. Nichopoulos with him too. His doctor friend. I see him around Baptist all the time, don’t you?”

  “So many celebrities, so little time,” Tucker quipped.

  And so it was, that late Sunday night on a sidewalk mere steps from The Rendezvous, I had my first official, grown up Elvis sighting.

  It would not be my last.

  Chapter 15

  We dropped Jimmy off at Brentwood Cadillac on Monday morning on our way to work. Mom and Dad were anxious to see him, so he headed for Birmingham but promised to come back and visit soon. Sandra and I drove the rest of the way to the company of Rick Dees.

  “Thirty-five after seven this beauuuuutiful spring morning. We’ve got 63 Dees-grees this morning, heading for a high of 84. Sound good to you, Mr. Mayor?”

  “Yessuh, Mistah Dees,” said a raspy old voice.

  “Good, good. Gotta keep the politicians happy.”

  The sound of a door creaking open preceded a d
eep, velvet voice. “Good morning, Dees.”

  “Sammy Soul, what brings you here this fine morning?”

  The voice, another of Dees’ parodies, sounded like Barry White. “Wanna lay a little somethin’ on ya this morning.”

  “You best watch what you lay on me, Sammy. How ’bout you stand over there. Waaaay over there. Daz’ good. Now, whatchu gonna lay on me, bro?”

  “I gots me a song t’sing, Dees.”

  “Well, ain’t that just real nice, Sammy. But you’ve gotta hold on, my brother. We’ve gotta take a break for a Tidy Bowl commercial.”

  “I gots t’wait for a tow-let commercial? Whas’ matter you?”

  “Just calm your pipes there, Sammy. This is Rick Dees at WHBQ Memphis and ‘we’ll be this right after back!’”

  “Sandra, they should make it mandatory to have two cups of coffee before listening to this guy. He’s making my head spin this morning.”

  “Yes, but how dull to start a day without our Rick.”

  When we arrived at the hospital, we realized our day was about to take a very bad turn. Mrs. Baker was back. To say she was on the war path would be an extreme understatement. Apparently she’d drilled Sarah Beth when she got home over the weekend. Clearly, our senior hostess had ratted us out. A sign was posted on our notice board:

  HOSTESS MEETING - 9:00 A.M.

  CONFERENCE ROOM B

  MANDATORY ATTENDANCE

  NO EXCEPTIONS

  Needless to say the atmosphere in the office was frigid at best. Those of us who tried to make small talk with Mrs. Baker, welcoming her back from her trip, were rewarded with short, polite answers and nothing more. I grabbed my clipboard and disappeared with some of the others to the cafeteria. We ate breakfast in near silence, none of us willing to talk about the lashing that surely awaited us.

  And oh, what a lashing.

  I’ll spare you the blow-by-blow. It wasn’t pretty. But I have to say, I think we all needed it. And oddly enough, we all left that conference room feeling renewed. Determined to restore her faith in us and in ourselves.

  By the time I got to Nine, I was emotionally spent but eager to visit my patients. I started with Mr. Underwood who had already paged me.

 

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