First thing in the morning, my hair turned back to jet-black. I was excited about it. I missed having dark hair while I was in the army. When I first entered it, my hair was that color, but then as time went on, my hair grew out and the black disappeared with the haircuts. My natural dirty-blonde showed and stayed that color up until I came home. My hair style went back to the way it was, just not the color.
I didn't go to any stylist or hair salon to get my hair back to black, I just did it myself at home. Of course, I bought the dye, or more, a friend bought the dye so I wouldn't cause a commotion in the store. It was sent to the mansion, straight into my hands.
"That's more like it," I told my reflection in the mirror after I used the dye. My hair was still wet, but it was styled and dark. I ran a comb through my hair on the right side of my hair. "I missed ya, dark hair." I checked my watch. "The Colonel's gonna be here in ten minutes. I really cut it close. Hopefully Mary has somethin' I can quickly hoover down before I leave."
She most likely did. There was always something made in the kitchen, whether it was freshly baked bread or muffins, or it was a full meal that was left for me by her while she tended to the laundry or the garden outside. Hilariously, she tended the mansion's vegetable garden, yet she was extremely afraid of spiders. As I pulled black slacks on and slid on a blue collar shirt, I snickered at the memory of her screaming because she saw a spider in the kitchen, and the ground's keeper Hugh who was in the house at the time got rid of it for her. I watched the whole scene and couldn't help but hold in laughter. She was so darn cute.
I halted buttoning up the shirt. Cute? Back then, I saw her as my housekeeper and friend being scared of a spider. Now, I thought of her as a rather attractive woman being scared of a spider, and I would want to swoop in and hold her to me while she trembled in fear - be the comfort.
I shook my head, erasing that image away. After buttoning up my shirt, I pulled on my brown suit coat and black loafers and went on downstairs. Making sure my hair was set, I ran my hands over the sides. It was still damp, but almost dry.
My sniffer caught something delicious in the air as I stepped off the stairs. I was right about the muffins. It smelled like blueberry. Following the scent like a dog, I came into the kitchen and found it empty, but there was a plate of fist-sized muffins on the counter near the stove. I smirked.
"Again, I was right. She never changed."
I took off a muffin, silently thanked the Lord for it, then took a bite. My brows shot up, and I hummed at its goodness. "Mmm, golly, I missed these. What a talented woman."
"Why, thank you."
My heart jumped, and I whirled around as I had some of the muffin in my mouth. The moment we met gazes, Mary's eyes widened, and that blush returned. She stared at me for a moment.
"Good mornin'," I coaxed after I swallowed, and she cleared her throat. I couldn't help but smirk at her reaction to me. It had to be the hair.
"Good mornin'. Wow, you're back to your black hair. Did you do that just this mornin'?"
I gave her a smile. "Sure did. Like it?"
"Very much. And I'm glad you like the muffins I made earlier."
"I do. Like I said, I missed 'em while I was away. I mean, they had pastries and stuff like that over there, but not these muffins." I took another bite and asked after swallowing, "You made this just this mornin'?" I checked my watch. "Wow, you must've gotten up 'round five."
She walked past me, and that flowery perfume took over my nose, along with laundry detergent. She was working on laundry. "4:30, actually. That's when I get up every mornin'."
"Aw, c'mon, you should sleep in some. You go to bed 'round nine, don't chya?"
"Yes. I'm just used to not gettin' a lot of sleep, along with someone else I know."
She gave me a pointed look as she grabbed a muffin. I chuckled guiltily. "Yeah, I know I don't get much sleep at night. The army didn't help that, either. It's just been like that since I became famous."
"I know, I remember," she said after taking a bite and had her mouth partially full of the muffin. I finished mine off in another two bites. "It was mainly after the Colonel became your manager. That man knows his stuff, but he works ya hard."
As if that were his cue, we heard a front door open, and from the living room... "Good morning, all!"
"Speaking of which," I said with a chuckle. "And yeah, I admit he does, but he's a good manager. I wouldn't be where I am today without 'im."
"You wouldn't be where you are today without a lot of people, especially your fans and your family, mainly your mother who taught you not to let your head get too big."
My heart immediately dropped, and I pressed my lips together. Mary put her muffin on the counter, her eyes sad. "Oh my, I'm sorry, Elvis."
I shook my head somberly. "No, don't be. Don't be afraid to talk about 'er, alright? She was a special person, and... yeah, she taught me well."
"Indeed. And you did that - not let your head get too big. I think people love you more for it. I know I do."
My heart pulsed when she said that, and she most likely caught on as well. We both knew what she really meant, but the way it sounded...
"Good morning," we heard from the entrance to the kitchen, and we jumped out of another little moment that had my cheeks burning and hers turning a darker shade of pink, and I tried to convince myself it was out of embarrassment. I turned around and faced my manager who was wearing a full grey suit and matching fedora. He also had on one of those old-fashioned Old West ties.
"Good mornin', Colonel," I said as he eyed me, mainly my hair.
"I see you did your hair. Looks good."
Hearing the approval of my manager, even in the smallest form, was wonderful. "Thanks."
His gaze turned to Mary, or more, to her muffins. "Good morning, Mary. I knew I smelled blueberry muffins."
"Would you like one?" she asked and picked up the plate of six left and held it out to him. That pink in her cheeks was gone.
"This time, I won't mind. Didn't have time to eat something this morning, just had coffee."
He took a muffin, and with his mouth full, he said to me, "Okay, grab a muffin and c'mon, Elvis. We have things to do today." He tipped his hat at Mary. "Mary."
He left the room before she could respond to him. I took a muffin from the plate, leaving four. "I guess I'll have another one."
"Take the whole plate if you want. Where are you headed today?"
"To the studio to cut some records. I sang some things in the army, we just need to get those recordin's onto records."
"I can't wait to hear 'em. While you were away, I listened to your music a lot and went to see your films that were still playin' in the theaters."
I smiled at the image of her enjoying my music and movies. She did before, but now, it seemed more special and meaningful. "I'm glad to hear it. Now, have a good day, alright? I'll see ya tonight."
"Yes, have a good day, Elvis."
Her green eyes gleamed as she smiled, and I forced myself not to stare at those eyes or smile and left the room, my muffin in hand. I met the Colonel at the door, and we headed out to the black Cadillac. In it, with me in the front passenger's seat and him at the wheel, I stared at the muffin that was speckled with blue from the fresh blueberries.
"You going to eat that?" asked the Colonel as we headed down the long drive.
"Yeah..."
"What's on your mind?"
I still eyed the muffin, knowing that Mary made it with her own hands, those rough hands that were worn from housework, housework that I should really start helping her with when I had some spare time.
"I... think I'm goin' crazy."
He let out heaps of hardy laughter as we turned out of the gate and onto the main road. "Boy, you've already gone crazy. Did before I met ya."
I smirked and still fiddled with the muffin. "I mean... I think I'm different."
"Different how?"
"I think I'm fallin' for Mary."
That caused him to look over at me, then back at the road, bewildered. "Hold on, what?"
"You heard me. I don't know what happened to me - it might've been the army or somethin', but... the moment I came home, I was reactin' to 'er like I would around a girl my age or younger. It's nuts, but I'm reactin' to her worse than Priscilla."
He blew air out of his mouth. "Wow..."
"Yeah, I know."
"No, I mean... Elvis, really? Yes, she's an attractive woman, but she's old enough to be your mother. Almost, but still."
"You think I donno that? I'm goin' crazy, I'm tellin' ya. I think she's beautiful, and whenever I have a chance to look at those green eyes of hers, I become... what, transfixed or somethin'."
He remained silent for a few seconds as we went on down the road and passed other cars, businesses and houses. His fingers were wound tight around the black steering wheel.
"Elvis... you're just adjusting to being back from the army and coming back to a house that is void of your mother."
I leaned back in the seat, still holding my muffin. The atmosphere in the car suddenly became a bit suffocating. "Momma has nothin' to do with this, Colonel."
"I think it does. If you were to tell your father what you told me, he would tell you the same thing... You miss your mother, and Mary was like another mother figure to you. You latched onto her in the past day since your own mother wasn't there, and you're mistaking certain feelings for romantic ones."
Irritation pricked my chest since he was talking about Momma so easily when she passed not two years ago. "I know what I was feelin', Colonel, and they were feelin's that a guy shouldn't feel towards his mother figure."
"Call it whatever you want. Now enough about all that. You need to focus on jumping back into your career starting with putting out some records. We're going to be pretty busy with that for a while until we start planning that TV show with Frank Sinatra."
Finally, I took a bite out of the muffin, forcing myself not to say anything, just nod. Maybe it was a mistake to confide in my manager these new and strange feelings I was having towards my housekeeper who had a daughter who was in college. I couldn't help, though, but think that he was right about what he said, that I stuck to Mary because Momma was absent.
But what about those feelings on both ends?
Maybe it was best not to think about that, as well as the reaction she had at seeing me in the kitchen with my darker hair. Those green eyes and pink cheeks didn't lie.
~ ~ ~
The remaining muffins went into the refrigerator, the last four of them. I eyed them as they sat there on the shelf in there. Maybe one more. I took one and shut the refrigerator door. If I did say so myself, they were rather delicious. Cooking and baking had always been one of my favorite things to do in life, aside from raising my daughter and watching her grow, learn and become the wonderful, caring, thoughtful and selfless human being that she was.
She reminded me of another person who was just like that, a person who just left with his manager to get a start on his normal famous life again. I really wished he could have had some more time to stay home and rest, but when you were a star as famous as him, it was hard to have a lengthy break.
"Okay, I think I'll go and fold the laundry after I eat this," I said as my mouth was partially full of the muffin. I finished it off and headed down to the laundry room. I had towels in the dryer that needed to be folded and put away. I had started a wash earlier, before I started the muffins, and while I was talking with Elvis, the wash was drying.
Elvis looked really good with that darker hair. He always had it before, when he wasn't in the army of course, so why did he look so gosh darn handsome with it now, more so than before?
Because he was a boy then. He was a man now. And the black hair rose his attractiveness meter. It brought out his blue eyes. That was the whole reason why Gladys convinced him to dye his hair in the first place. And it just looked terribly good on him.
I sighed in exasperation as I took the multi-colored towels out of the dryer and heaped them in a white laundry basket. "Golly, so many things sure changed after he got back."
I picked up the full basket and brought it out of the large laundry room and into the living room where there was more space to fold. I set the basket in the middle of the floor, and as soon as I did that, the phone rang. I checked my little brown watch around my wrist. It was only 7:30. Who would be calling so early?
Leaving the towels for a minute, I went to the white rotary phone in the entryway near the stairs. I was the only one who could answer the phone, aside from Vernon. Well, actually, it was only Elvis who couldn't answer it. Sometimes he did, though, just for kicks and giggles. He was always one to make a person happy, be it a random fan or a reporter on the other line. That was something that made him attractive, other than his looks and kind, selfless personality - taking pleasure in people's happiness.
"Graceland Mansion, Mary the housekeeper speaking," I said into the phone handle after I picked it up.
"Hey, Mom!"
My heart leaped for joy at hearing my dear daughter's voice. "Sandra, hello! This is a surprise. Golly."
"Yeah, I just wanted to call before I left for class. Just felt like I should. So, how's Elvis bein' home? I read in the paper this mornin' that he arrived back on the train early yesterday evenin'."
Memories of that came back, and I couldn't help but smile. "It's so great to have 'im home, my goodness. I wish you could've been there to welcome 'im back here at the house. He would've loved that."
"I know. I wanted to, but I had a test I had to take. That guy is seriously like the older brother I never had."
Was it bad for me to be relieved that she thought about him as her brother and not the object of her affections like every fan of Elvis's? Well, she was his fan, just not a crazy one like every other girl in the country. "I'm so happy to hear you say that, I mean that he means so much to ya in a familial sense."
"Why would you be relieved that I think about him in a familial sense?"
She was my daughter, and as such, she was in-tune with what I was feeling. Maybe that was why she felt like she should call. We were almost like twins in that way. I had to quickly make an excuse. "I mean that since you have no other siblings, it's relievin' you see him as such. I wish I could've given you a sibling."
"Hey, Mom, don't say that, okay? I wouldn't have had it any other way, just you, Dad and me. Well, I'm not a big fan of Dad right now because of what he did, but I still love 'im, you know."
My heart hurt, remembering finding out about Randall's affair. "Yes, I know." I let out a sigh. "Boy, I wish you were here."
"I'm gonna try and visit as soon as I can. I've missed Elvis."
"He's missed you, too. Just to warn ya, he's changed quite a bit, meanin' that he's just a smidgen taller, he's thinner, and his hair went back to black."
"He's always had black hair, though, as long as both of us have known 'im. I've never seen 'im with the blonde hair that Gladys said he had when he was younger."
"Yes, I recall her talkin' about it, and she showed me pictures. It's just now... that dyed hair of his seems different."
"How so?" I remained silent for a moment as I twirled the white phone cord with my fingers. Sandra definitely heard my silence. "Okay, Mom, what's goin' on? You've been actin' a little strange in the past minute."
Of course she would pick up on that. She was intuitive, and in my own personal opinion, smarter than I. She would find out what was going on with me eventually, anyway, when she would see how I acted around Elvis - like a lovestruck schoolgirl. "Okay, you caught me. Yes, somethin' strange is happenin', and it started happenin' the moment Elvis came home."
"The moment he came home? What happened? Now I'm curious."
Alright, here it goes. My heart pounding, I revealed, "Sandra... I think I may be feelin' somethin' other than friendship or familial feelin's towards Elvis."
She was silent for a moment, and I imagined that her mouth dropped open. "Mom... are you serious?! You're havin' romantic feelin's for Elvis?!"
I knew she would have this reaction. "Against my will. In the beginnin', or more, before he arrived home, I expected to greet a boy who I saw as a son, or just a very dear friend. But instead, when he walked through the front door, and I saw just how much he changed... He's no longer the boy I or even you knew. He's a tall, very handsome and put-together young man."
She squealed with glee. "Oh heavens above, I can't believe this!"
"Neither can I, especially when, well, you know I baked a cake for 'im, one in the shape of a guitar?"
"Yeah, you told me about that. He liked it?"
"He loved it. While he's a man, he had a boyish grin on his face when he saw it, and he thought it was delicious."
"So, what happened next?"
Well, I guess I'm telling this story now. "We had a party for 'im, as you know, with his friends and family. It went on into late in the evenin', and after all the guests left, Elvis and I were talkin' in the kitchen about this and that. I was so focused on doin' the dishes that I didn't notice that Elvis got a bit of white frosting near his mouth. He didn't notice it either until I said somethin'..."
"Let me guess... You went to wipe the frosting away, and as you did so, you two shared a magical moment where you gazed into each other's eyes, and it was as if the world around you stood still, and the both of you were the only two people in existence."
I cracked a smile. "Golly gee, Sandra, you've been readin' far too many romance novels."
"Maybe. But is that what happened?"
I pressed my lips together, really wishing I could say no. "Yes, that's what happened. It was so odd... He's a good eighteen years younger than I am."
"So what? When you feel somethin' for someone, that's that. You're the one who told me that a person can't help who their heart chooses."
I leaned against the wall, not believing that we were having this conversation. "Elvis said a similar thing as he was talkin' about that girl he met over there in Germany. She's only fourteen, golly."
"I read about that, and now, he's drawn towards a woman far older than him rather than far younger."
"He's not drawn to me, Sandra."
"Well, how was he actin' when you two had your little moment, huh?"
She was trying me. His cheeks were most definitely pink, but it could've been the warmth of the room. He was also blushing earlier... "Normal, I guess."
"But you're gazes locked, Mom. C'mon. Elvis is a man and you're a woman, two beings who are naturally attracted to each other, so he most definitely reacted. Love doesn't care about what age you are or the status of the other person, you know."
I let out a gasp, and my heart jumped. "Sandra, that's not what's goin' on here!"
"Isn't it? You're fallin' in love with Elvis, Mom. That's what it sounds like to me. Do you think he's noticed?"
"If my blushed cheeks every time he's in my presence are a sign of it, then yes. I couldn't help but become a stunned, blushing statue when I walked into the kitchen just this mornin' and saw 'im standin' there with his freshly dyed black hair. Honestly, I couldn't believe how attractive he was."
My daughter giggled. "That darn black hair. Golly, Mom, you really are fallin' in love with 'im!"
The notion that I was falling in love with a man who was only twenty-five years old when I was forty-three was complete and utter insanity. But as Sandra said, using my own words as well as Elvis's words against me, a person can't help who they fall for. "Just you be careful when you come and visit, honey, or it'll happen to you, too, regardless of what you thought of 'im before."
Bursts of laughter escaped her. "Mom, c'mon. Yeah, I think he's handsome like the next girl, but he's too much like a brother for me to feel anythin' romantic towards 'im. Plus, you know I have a boyfriend now, one that I'm so crazy nuts about."
"And one I have to meet eventually."
"You will. You know, he didn't believe me at first when I said that I personally knew Elvis Presley, and that my mother works for 'im. I had to show 'im a picture of me and Elvis to prove it. Of course, he got jealous, so then I had to convince 'im that Elvis is like my brother."
"And he's supposed to be like my son!" I wailed in disdain, my free hand to my forehead. "Sandra, what's goin' on here? I don't wanna be dealin' with this right now."
"Well, love hits us when we least expect it. I think you need to find out if he feels somethin' for ya, too. Were there any hints on his end?"
Those blushing cheeks he had definitely were, as well as... "Well, after that little moment we had, Colonel Parker came into the kitchen and started talkin' to us. After he left, Elvis said my name in a way that told me he wanted to talk farther, most likely about that still moment we had."
"And did you two talk?"
"I would've told ya if we did. I just moved ahead of it, feelin' horribly awkward, and he left the room to talk with Vernon and the Colonel."
She let out a sigh through the phone in agitation. "Oh, Momma... you really didn't talk about it? Well, that means you have to talk about it at some point."
"I don't think so. I don't wanna go assumin' things and make myself a fool by askin' 'im about what was goin' on."
"Then just make sure that he has feelin's for you first. If he blushes or acts nervous around ya, that's a sure hint." She snickered. "Boy, I remember you tellin' me the same thing in junior high when I was wonderin' if Brady Jackson liked me."
That boy was her obsession on until she graduated high school, and he felt the same way, but nothing happened between them. And thank goodness. I didn't like the boy - I had seen him at a school function. He didn't give off a great first impression. "I guess the tables have turned, huh? Well, okay, I'll play this your way. It just seems so silly."
"Love makes us all silly and idiots."
Her father told her that, and it proved true, but in a negative way - he was the idiot for cheating on me. "It's true." I looked at my watch. "Oh my, Sandra, you have to get to class!"
She gasped. "Yeah, I do! I lost track of time. Okay, Mom, promise me you'll go through with this, okay? And I want you to tell me how it goes."
At this point, I didn't have a choice. "Okay. Now off you go."
"I will." She squealed again. "Golly, I'm so tickled about this! I love age-gap romances!"
"No one said nothin' about this bein' a romance."
"It may turn out to be that way. Okay, bye, Mom. Love you."
"Love you, too, my darlin' girl."
She hung up, and I did as well. I went back into the living room and sat down on the carpet, near the white basket full of towels. I pulled a blue one out and stared at it for a moment. It was one of Elvis's shower towels, but one he hadn't used since before the army.
My daughter was right - I was falling in love with Elvis. Or no. Maybe it was just a crush like the kids called it... a crush that made me want to snuggle my face against the blue towel material. It made me wonder if he would do the same with one of my towels. Doubtful. That daughter of mine had an active imagination. Yes, I had feelings for Elvis, but him having feelings for me? An older woman with dull yellow-blonde hair that was graying and had a petite, spindly body? Doubtful. His pink cheeks were...
Honestly, I couldn't think of any other reason why he would be blushing in my presence.