Hate to Love You [Elvis]

Chapter 17 - Housewarming Party Gone Hot

Note: Just in case any if you are wondering when the story is at the moment, it is the beginning of June of 1957 since it's been a few weeks since Elvis arrived at the beginning of May. The timeframe I'm looking at for the story, and may be subject to change, is May 1st to July 6th.

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June arrived, and I had been in my new place for close to a week. I switched bedrooms since the one I was going to have originally had a clear view of the house Elvis was moving into. Yes, at the moment I was setting up a desk in that room, he was moving in. I saw a large black van in front of the large white house, and a whole slew of people were at its gates hoping to see Elvis. They got lucky. I saw him standing on the other side of the gate. He was the size of a bug from my vantage point, but I knew it was him. Who else would it be?

"I bet he's just loving that," I muttered and stepped away from the window. My desk wouldn't be facing it. "And I bet everyone at the hotel is depressed."

I knew that they were. Nay told me the day before that the moment Mrs. Brunster said that Elvis was leaving the hotel, the maids cried and did for the rest of the day, mainly the ones who had not met him yet. All of them knew of my new job, so, according to Nay, a lot of them wished they were my friend when I was working with them. Well, tough luck. They just stuck themselves to Nay since her new boyfriend was friends with Elvis, a boyfriend who I finally met, and who would visit in an hour with Nay. We planned to have dinner and play a card game. This would be my first time having guests over.

Dixie barked loudly at my feet. I looked down at her. "Hey, no barking. You know better."

She sat there with her little fluffy tail wagging, and she looked up at me with her brown eyes. I smirked.

"You're hungry. Okay, c'mon."

She happily and excitedly followed me into the kitchen, and I filled her little bowl with her puppy chow as it sat next to my new square kitchen table. Dixie ate her food greedily.

"Okay, now, I have to make the roast chicken. Nay and Scotty are bringing a salad and desert."

Dixie didn't respond, just ate her food. Of course, she wouldn't respond since she was a dog. It was just nice to have her around. She was my own, and she would be my own for another fifteen years, at least hopefully. I would take good care of her, meaning vet visits and medications if she needed them.

"You done?" I asked her as I got the chicken out. The three breasts were raw on a plate, yet Dixie's sniffer was working well. Her little brown body wiggled as her tail wagged, and she looked up at me hopefully. I giggled. "No, this isn't for you. While chicken is good for you, this is for people tonight." She started whining. Maybe she knew what I said. "Maybe I'll give you a tiny piece of mine later." She parked happily. "You really do know what I'm saying, don't you?"

I prepared the chicken by putting it in a casserole dish and added spices, carrots, potatoes and onions, and I popped the dish into the oven and set a countertop timer. I looked down at Dixie. "Do you want to play until the dinner is done and our guests arrive? Let's play! C'mon!"

I used my talking-to-a-dog-or-small-child voice. Dixie got excited and scampered into the living room that still had only one brown sofa in it. I would add a TV, coffee table, a bookshelf and tall standing lamp later.

I sat on the floor and tried to get Dixie's little rope toy from her. She growled as I tried, and I found that so darn cute. I didn't know I could love something right off the bat. Mom said that happens with your own children... Maybe a dog was close enough until I would eventually get married. And I did want to, just not for a while. Nay said I could marry a star since I was in show business...