A Thing Called Love

Chapter 12

By some miracle, Rosemarie and Elvis were all alone instead of surrounded by press or fans. It was almost like in the beginning now, as they stood there in front of her parents house. The first few dates, their lunch dates. In a way it all seemed so long ago already. She had only been working for him for a few days now and they had lunch dates again. She had been elated when Elvis drove back from work during his break for the first time and even more elated when he did it again the next day.

Elvis was as handsome as ever in his uniform which he had inexplicably insisted upon wearing. Possibly because it gave him the perfect excuse to wear a hat.

The sun reigned over the land, beaming down so the skin at the back of her neck tinged under the warm rays. The breeze had her long light coat flapping against her skin, somehow making her feel classy.

As far as Rosemarie was concerned, Elvis was an angel. Not once did he complain about this. When she had asked him, he had said yes and when she gave him a date he'd said sure. It was almost as though he had expected this. He didn't even ask if her father would want to kill him.

"You grew up here?" Elvis asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

"I did," Rosemarie said.

"That's a real nice little house they got."

"Why don't you let me go first," Rosemarie said. But the opportunity for her to go ahead did not arise as a thin woman with bleached hair and an apron tied around her waist came rushing out to meet them.

"Rosie!" The woman called, hugging her daughter as she reached her. Then her eyes landed on Elvis and his cheerful expression vanished.

"Hallo Frau Albrecht, ich bin Elvis Presley. Ich..." Elvis trailed off, suddenly unable to grapple with the foreign language. He stuck out his hand, eyes widening when Rosemarie's mother gave him what looked to be a genuine smile.

"Also wirklich. Mein Gott. (So it's true. My God)." She switched into broken English. "Is nice to meet you. You call me Gertrude, yes?"

"Yes, Gertrude," Elvis said with a nervous laugh.

"Can we go inside?" Rosemarie asked, intend on rescuing both of them. Elvis' German had gotten much better in the last few months. He always seemed eager to pick up little pits and pieces to impress her and now seemed crushed by his inability to summon up all that he had learned when it was needed. She took his hand and gave it a light squeeze, unable to keep from smiling when his adorable grin returned. She wasn't quite sure if it was such a good idea to flaunt the fact that they were in love the way they did around his parents but in a way it seemed impossible not to.

"She like me?" Elvis whispered.

"She just met you."

"I could tell that my mama liked you right away."

"I couldn't. I met her down in the lobby on our first date, remember?"

They entered the hall to find a teenage boy stood by the banister, shooting them a strange glance.

"You must be Klaus," Elvis said, suppressing a grin as the boy's head bobbed up and down while his mouth dropped open. "Ich bin Elvis Presley."

"Ich weiß (I know)," Klaus breathed. "Heilige Scheisse!" (Holy shit!)

"Klaus!" Gertrude exclaimed. "Benimm dich bloß (Better behave yourself)."

"Ja, ja," Klaus muttered as his mother took off toward the kitchen.

Elvis grinned at the smell that came wafting from that direction. "Looks like the food's gonna be real good."

"You should like it," Rosemarie assured him. She took off her shoes and placed them on a provided shelf.