My Little Friend

Chapter 7

September 3rd, 1958.

"How's everyone?" Elvis asked, his voice drifting into his mother's ear through the phone line.

At Graceland, Gladys clutched the receiver in one hand and the cord in the other. "How are you, son? I hope that you're alright. Are you eatin' enough?"

Elvis let out a soft chuckle. "I eat plenty. So you're goin' today?"

"I told you that we would," Gladys said, glancing over at Vernon, who was struggling with mountains of paperwork that was threatening to scatter all over the floor. "Be careful."

"Yes, Mama," Elvis responded.

"Not you, darlin'. Your daddy's about to drop a ton of paperwork."

"I'm gatherin' it." Vernon grumbled, trying to get all the paper to line up and fit into a manila folder.

"I wish that I was here," Elvis said, sounding equal parts glum and angry. "I was gonna ask for another leave to—"

"You were what?" Gladys cut him off. "Elvis!"

"I didn't, Mama. I didn't. I said I was gonna."

"What did he do?" Vernon piped up. His elbow sent the papers flying through the air and onto the floor.

"Vernon," Gladys sighed as her husband silently cursed under his breath.

"I got it," Vernon said when Gladys moved to stand and come to his aid. Meanwhile Elvis continued to talk on the other end. "What are you sayin'?"

"Nothin' important," Elvis sighed. "When are you goin' to the orpanage?"

"They said we have to wait till after lunch time."

"I'm glad they let you come at all. Bet they wouldn't have let me come along, anyhow," Elvis mumbled. Gladys, knowing that he was merely looking for ways to justify his absence, did not argue.

"You and that little girl are gonna meet again," Gladys said, fierce in her sincerity to honor the promise.

"I know, Mama. I know. Are you..." Elvis trailed off as a sigh escaped him.

"Don't you worry about me. They said that I was gonna be just fine, didn't they?"

"Are you fine, though?"

"Yes. Yes, I just...I worry," Gladys admitted with a soft sigh. "About you, about little Lynn Rose." She trailed off when her eyes moved over to Vernon, who was still struggling with the paperwork. "Just leave it for now, Vern. I'll pick it up in a minute. We need to sort it again, anyhow."

Elvis chuckled, then turned serious again. "Guess I should let you eat lunch now, huh?"

"Oh, nonsense. You talk to your daddy for a bit while I fix somethin' up."

"He will?" Vernon asked from his position on the floor.

"Yes." Gladys held the phone out to him. "You talk to your boy."

Vernon haphazardly gathered all the paperwork and placed it on the table before sliding into the seat Gladys had vacated. "Howdy boy. You stayin' out of trouble?"

"Yes, sir. Bein' good though I don't wanna be here."

Vernon stayed silent for a drawn out moment, waiting for Gladys to move out of earshot. "I still ain't sure about this though you and your mama got it in your heads that we...maybe she gotta be with someone who got nothin' to do with this thing."

"Instead of the people who were there for her?" Elvis asked with barely restrained anger. "That don't make any sense."

"Well, what if she decides to be mad that your mama lived and hers didn't and then goes and lets it out on the both of you."