simultaneously admiring the soft glow of illumination that highlighted the dark stately manor. The driver tapped his pencil against the steering wheel.
Heather spoke first. “We’re at Graceland?”
I nodded and took note that Heather sounded like her sober self. At least if Elvis did show, she would be aware enough to remember the encounter. However, my gut feeling told me that only two of us would be standing in the cold tonight. Important chat or not, he was not coming.
“Are we not talking to each other now?” Heather sighed.
Without responding, I reached over the seat, paid the fare, and let myself out. I left the door open for Heather.
“Fine, don’t speak to me, but really Samantha, Steve’s a vulture,” Heather said, slamming the door shut for emphasis.
“How do you know?’ I spun around.
“I just do!”
“Just because he’s pushy in his desire to be with someone, to break his loneliness, doesn’t mean he’s a monster.” My voice trailed off as I realized Steve and I had a lot in common.
The cabbie’s tires spun against the wet pavement and he jerked out onto the empty street. We stood side by side in the still night and watched as the red tail lights grew smaller, drifting off in to the night.
“I’m sorry.” Heather said.
I looked at her, but held back my words. I knew better to open my mouth when I was this upset. Nothing positive ever came out of a fiery situation. And, when I was ready to speak it would be without the urge to call her names like shit-head — I hate it when she makes me angry enough to curse — which of course meant she'd won. For now, silence was better.
Our breath hung in small white clouds as we walked up to the gates of Graceland. Heather shivered and blew on her hands as I wrapped mine around the cold green bars and glanced into the small white guard shack to my right. A gate security guard, dressed in full uniform blues, sat sipping coffee and reading the paper. I turned and leaned heavily against the closed gate. In rechecking my watch, for what had to be the hundredth time that night, my heart skipped as the clock ticked past midnight.
“He’ll be here,” Heather said, as she yawned and zipped up her jacket.
“No. He won’t.” I exhaled.
“What makes you think he won’t?”
“Because he said to come alone, and obviously I’m not alone, Heather .” I crossed my arms over my chest, and leaned my head back against the gate while looking up at the dark sky.
Street lights hummed over an empty boulevard. The cold cement glistened under the warm glow. Turning, I continued down the boulevard, passing a large green historic marker without stopping to read it.
“What am I, a Chest piece that everyone can move around as they please? Samantha, do this. Samantha, go here!” That feisty attitude I could normally curtail had arrived.
“Maybe something came up?” Heather tried.
“No, he’s watching,” I uttered mindlessly while scanning Graceland’s front lawn.
No signs of life stirred. Every other tree was softly lit by blue, yellow or green landscape lighting. It gave the grounds an overall peaceful look that normally I could feel, but the more I considered my situation, the more focused on my anger I became. Once again, he was just going to leave without a word, I fumed while pacing and nibbling on the tip of my thumbnail.
“If Mr. Elvis Presley thinks I’m walking away from tonight without him, he’s got another thing coming,” I huffed, turned and almost bumped into Heather.
“What are you planning, Samantha?” Heather asked wearily as I walked ahead of her.
“I’m going to find the easiest way in.”
“Graceland is closed, Sam.”
“He told me to meet him, and if he won’t come to me…”
Heather squinted, and then her expression fell.
“We are going to get arrested!” She screeched.
I waved my hands wildly and looked around.
“We won’t get caught.” I whispered.
Heather shook her head.
“Besides if protecting
Heather spoke first. “We’re at Graceland?”
I nodded and took note that Heather sounded like her sober self. At least if Elvis did show, she would be aware enough to remember the encounter. However, my gut feeling told me that only two of us would be standing in the cold tonight. Important chat or not, he was not coming.
“Are we not talking to each other now?” Heather sighed.
Without responding, I reached over the seat, paid the fare, and let myself out. I left the door open for Heather.
“Fine, don’t speak to me, but really Samantha, Steve’s a vulture,” Heather said, slamming the door shut for emphasis.
“How do you know?’ I spun around.
“I just do!”
“Just because he’s pushy in his desire to be with someone, to break his loneliness, doesn’t mean he’s a monster.” My voice trailed off as I realized Steve and I had a lot in common.
The cabbie’s tires spun against the wet pavement and he jerked out onto the empty street. We stood side by side in the still night and watched as the red tail lights grew smaller, drifting off in to the night.
“I’m sorry.” Heather said.
I looked at her, but held back my words. I knew better to open my mouth when I was this upset. Nothing positive ever came out of a fiery situation. And, when I was ready to speak it would be without the urge to call her names like shit-head — I hate it when she makes me angry enough to curse — which of course meant she'd won. For now, silence was better.
Our breath hung in small white clouds as we walked up to the gates of Graceland. Heather shivered and blew on her hands as I wrapped mine around the cold green bars and glanced into the small white guard shack to my right. A gate security guard, dressed in full uniform blues, sat sipping coffee and reading the paper. I turned and leaned heavily against the closed gate. In rechecking my watch, for what had to be the hundredth time that night, my heart skipped as the clock ticked past midnight.
“He’ll be here,” Heather said, as she yawned and zipped up her jacket.
“No. He won’t.” I exhaled.
“What makes you think he won’t?”
“Because he said to come alone, and obviously I’m not alone, Heather .” I crossed my arms over my chest, and leaned my head back against the gate while looking up at the dark sky.
Street lights hummed over an empty boulevard. The cold cement glistened under the warm glow. Turning, I continued down the boulevard, passing a large green historic marker without stopping to read it.
“What am I, a Chest piece that everyone can move around as they please? Samantha, do this. Samantha, go here!” That feisty attitude I could normally curtail had arrived.
“Maybe something came up?” Heather tried.
“No, he’s watching,” I uttered mindlessly while scanning Graceland’s front lawn.
No signs of life stirred. Every other tree was softly lit by blue, yellow or green landscape lighting. It gave the grounds an overall peaceful look that normally I could feel, but the more I considered my situation, the more focused on my anger I became. Once again, he was just going to leave without a word, I fumed while pacing and nibbling on the tip of my thumbnail.
“If Mr. Elvis Presley thinks I’m walking away from tonight without him, he’s got another thing coming,” I huffed, turned and almost bumped into Heather.
“What are you planning, Samantha?” Heather asked wearily as I walked ahead of her.
“I’m going to find the easiest way in.”
“Graceland is closed, Sam.”
“He told me to meet him, and if he won’t come to me…”
Heather squinted, and then her expression fell.
“We are going to get arrested!” She screeched.
I waved my hands wildly and looked around.
“We won’t get caught.” I whispered.
Heather shook her head.
“Besides if protecting
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