Stranger Things Have Happened (Elvis Presley story)

Chapter 8

It isn't long until there is a sharp knock at the door. Rolling my eyes, I force myself to get up and answer it. It's him, obviously it is, but even still I'm nervous. Just as my fingers brush cool metal of the door handle, I take a deep breath in an attempt to prepare myself for this. Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I open the door. 

Elvis stands there with a stressed expression on his face. I make myself stand straight, determined to keep my cool. But the second his eyes meet mine, I feel my anger towards him begin to melt away. Neither of us says anything for awhile, so I clear my throat. 

"Uh, hi." 

He still doesn't say anything though, just cocks his head a little as if he's inspecting me. But suddenly without warning, he takes a giant step forward and embraces me in an almost claustrophobically tight hug. I stiffen up at first in shock, but quickly relax and hug him back. Pressing my face into his chest, I close my eyes and inhale his scent. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers into my hair just before letting me go. 

"No," I stop him, stepping back and crossing my arms. "I overreacted. And I shouldn't have ignored you." 

He shakes his head and lets out a deep breath, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. "Are you ready?" he asks suddenly.

"Ready for what?" I question, confused. 

"I'm taking you back to Graceland." He says it so simply, so matter-of-fact. 

At first I don't process what he says. Graceland? "What are you talking about?" I ask cautiously, wondering if this is something he and Margaret had discussed on the phone without out my knowledge.

"I know about all the reporters, yesterday and this morning. Anna, they won't stop. You'll be safer at Graceland until this all blows over." I stare at him wide eyed. Safer at Graceland, what is he talking about?

He asks politely to come in, to which all I am able to give in response is a nod. I watch as he enters the house, looking around curiously. Margaret joins our little parade, directing Elvis toward her room. Asking if I had a suitcase, Margaret tells him no but offers one of her own. Just as the two of them start working together to pack up my belongings, I speak up.

"Um, could Margaret and I have a moment alone please?"

Elvis looks over at me from what he is doing and nods before exiting into the hallway and closing the door quietly behind him. The second he is gone I turn to Margaret.

"What the hell is going on? What is he talking about, staying at Graceland?" I blurt out bluntly. She shrugs but doesn't look up, still neatly folding up the pile of my clothes she pulled from her closet before placing them in the suitcase. "Did you know about this?"

Biting her lip, she briefly glances my way. "It may have come up."

"Were you going to tell me about this?" I ask frustrated, crossing my arms.

"Anna," she says, sounding tired. "I seriously doubt that there would be any chance in changing that man's mind. Especially about this." She gently pulls the zipper on the suitcase closed before setting it on the floor beside the bed.