The Housekeeper's Daughter [Elvis]

Chapter 4 - Sleeping Beauty

"Mamma, I think I know how to do laundry."

"But it needs to be done a certain way."

Mamma and I stood in the mansion's one laundry room, a room about the size of our living room at home, and it had a white tile floor and tile walls, and the walls had blue speckles around, making it look like there were blue dots on the walls. We stood in front of the light-green washing machine.

"You need to be very precise with the amount of soap you put in, and the amount of time needs to be at exactly twenty-five minutes. No more, no less. Mr. Presley needs to have his clothing in good condition, and that means following these exact rules."

She put in the soap and started up the machine after turning the dial. "Mamma, don't you ever call him Elvis? When I first met 'im a couple days ago, he asked to be called by his first name."

"It seems more professional to call him Mr. Presley."

"But when I think of Mr. Presley, I think of Vernon Presley."

"I think he wants you to call 'im by his first name because you're a pretty young lady."

She gave me a sly look. I smiled, knowing that he thought me pretty. At least, I gathered that from our last conversation. I hadn't seen him since the kitchen because he left early in the morning, earlier then what that Colonel Parker said. Elvis was gone before any of us got up.

My smile faded. "Mamma... I told ya 'bout what happened with his manager yesterday. How can Elvis have such a man run his life?"

The machine made its noises as it washed Elvis's clothes, along with some towels. Mamma leaned against the metal box and folded her arms. "Well... all stars have to have a manager to take care of things for 'em. From what I've heard, Colonel Parker is one of the best."

"The best maybe where making Elvis more successful is concerned. I don't think he realizes that he's workin' Elvis raw. I'm sorry, but that man is a bully. He tried to convince Elvis to fire all the women here because they're too much of a distraction. I just..." I huffed. I needed to not let my emotions rise. "I'm sorry, but that's just not right."

"Well, we can't do much 'bout it. I know where you're comin' from, though. The best we can do is just do our jobs."

"Yes, and that's the hard part. I really wanna do somethin' 'bout it, and I mean that manager."

Mamma reached out and touched my arm and squeezed it. I met her sweet motherly gaze. "Megan, you have such a good heart. I know you're concerned for Elvis. I am, too, but as I have said, we can just do our jobs. We're on the sidelines of everythin' here. No gettin' involved."

Not liking that I had to, I nodded. "Okay, you're right, but I don't know what I'm gonna do the next time the Colonel is here. I told ya of what he said 'bout me."

"You will do your job, Megan, like I said. That's why you're here. Don't let that man get to ya. He's made remarks 'bout me, and I think nothin' of 'em. Now, let's go on with our lives."

Mamma gave me that look that told me to drop the subject because I shouldn't be complaining about whatever I was complaining about. "Okay, okay. I won't talk 'bout it anymore. But it still hurts. Elvis looked so worn and sad yesterday."

"He's a busy star. There will be more times when he looks that way then when he doesn't. Honestly, when he was singin' to your piano playin', that's the happiest I've ever seen 'im, at least since I've been here."

This was news! Disheartening news. "Are you serious, Mamma? Are you sayin' he's more sad than happy?"

"It's the life of a busy star, but I think the man is happiest when there's music to sing, play and dance to. You're a God-sent for him, I think."