Blue Like Elvis (16 page)

Chapter 23

The day had taken
its toll. Sandra had a date that night, so I had the townhouse to myself. I put
on some music and took a long hot bubble bath. I tried to read while I soaked,
hoping to escape into someone else’s drama for a while, but I couldn’t
concentrate. A deep sorrow coated my heart, and I couldn’t shake it. I put on
my pajamas and tried to lose myself in some mindless television, but tonight even
Laverne & Shirley
couldn’t lift my spirits.

I gave up about 10:00
and went to bed only to toss and turn and drive myself crazy. I heard Sandra
come in an hour or so later, but I didn’t feel like talking so I didn’t let her
know I was still awake. I heard her go to bed and waited another half hour
before I finally gave up and got dressed.

Forty minutes
later I was on the elevator at Baptist. It was such a different place at night,
the halls so empty and quiet. I got off on Seven, went to the nurses’ station,
introduced myself, showed them my BMH ID card, and asked if by chance they knew
if Dr. Love was awake.

Before you think I’ve
lost my mind, coming to visit at such an hour, I should tell you that Dr. Love
once told me how he could never get to sleep before one or two in the morning.
I wasn’t sure if his normal routine might be off schedule, what with him being
in the hospital and all, but my own restlessness had led me here at this late—make
that, early—hour.

The nurse smiled. “I
was just in there. He’s been talking my ear off. Normally I wouldn’t let you
visit this late, but since you’re an employee and a friend, I’ll look the other
way this time. Besides, you’ll be doing me a favor. He’s a sweet old guy, but
glory, can that man talk! You go ahead and say hello. Just don’t stay too long.”

“I won’t. And
thanks.”

His room was the
last one on the right at the end of the long hall. I tapped gently on the door.

“Come in, come!
Whoever you are, come in!”

I peeked around
the door. “Hi, Dr. Love.”

“Shelby! What in
the world are you doing here at this hour? You’re not working, are you?”

He pointed at the
guest chair beside his bed, and I took a seat. He looked remarkably good, all
things considered. The head of the bed was raised so he sat up comfortably, his
Bible open on his lap. He wore a charcoal gray robe over his white pin-striped
pajamas and somehow still looked . . .
pastorly
? Even his
thick white hair was nicely combed and clean.

“No, I just couldn’t
sleep. A lot on my mind, I guess. Then I remembered I hadn’t been up to see you
yet. And
then
I remembered you said you could never sleep til the wee
hours of the morning, so . . . I thought I’d try and sneak in
for a visit.”

He reached over
and patted my arm. “I’m so glad you did. It’s ghostly quiet around here at
night. Except for those nurses. My heavens, they pop in here at least once an
hour all night long. Even if I was to get to sleep, they’d come in poking and
probing and asking me this or that. Makes a fellow anxious to get out of here
just to go home and get some rest!”

“True. I hear that
complaint all the time from my patients,” I said. “But how are you? How’s the
recovery going?”

“Oh, it’s awful
hard to keep an old codger like me down. They said I had some mini-strokes or
something. But I feel fine. I keep telling them I was just trying to get a
little attention.”

I smiled. “Right.
As if you needed some attention. You don’t get enough, standing in that pulpit
several times a week?”

“Shhh! Don’t you
be giving away my secrets, now,” he said, chuckling.

“You sure gave us
all a scare. That ER waiting room was packed when you came in.”

“Oh, I heard. And
poor Elsie. She’s been hovering over me like a mama bear ever since they
brought me in. I sent her home an hour ago. She wanted to stay again, but I
could tell she was needing a good night’s sleep at home in a real bed.”

“I hope she’ll get
some rest. How much longer will you be a guest of our lovely hospital?”

“Ah, that’s the
million dollar question. I’m ready to go now, but Dr. Weir wants to keep me in
a while longer ‘for observation.’ I told Ben that Elsie would do all the
observing necessary, but he didn’t buy it. I reckon I’ll be here at least
another couple days or so.”

“He’s good, Dr.
Weir. You should listen to him.”

“Enough about me.
What’s got you up this time of night?”

I blew out a puff
of air and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Guess I’m just a little overwhelmed
right now.”

“How so?”

“Oh, lots of
stuff. But I didn’t come here to bother you with my problems.”

“Nonsense. Neither
of us can sleep. Let’s have a nice little chat. What’s going on? Problems with
that handsome Dr. Thompson? You just say the word and I’ll—”

“No! No, there’s
nothing—I mean, that’s not a problem. He’s not a problem. Tucker’s great.” I
stopped stuttering for a minute. “No, he’s the least of my problems.”

“Good. I like
Tucker. He’s a good man with a good head on his shoulders.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Then, out with
it, Shelby. What’s upsetting you tonight?”

And I told him.
All about the miserable mess in the office and how badly I felt about all that,
especially for disappointing Mrs. B. He talked me through it, assuring me that “Virginia”
would be good to her word and give us all another chance. He applauded me for
wanting to step up to the plate and prove I was worthy of her trust again.

Then I told him
about Donnie. I wept as I shared Donnie’s story. I couldn’t help it. He patted
my hand like an understanding grandfather and listened attentively as I
expressed my concern for my friend’s loss of faith in God.

He leaned his head
back against his pillow. “Oh Shelby, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard
similar stories like your friend’s. We Christians are an odd lot. We think our
faith is so solid, and then something breaks our hearts and we find out that
solid foundation wasn’t so solid after all.”

“But what do you
say? How do you help them find their faith again?”

“You don’t. You
can’t. That’s the job of the Holy Spirit. If Donnie truly believed in God
before all this happened, chances are he hasn’t really turned his back on that
belief. He’s just lost his way. Lost his bearings. He’s obviously still
grieving. And losing someone so close and precious—well, that’s hard. Mighty
hard.”

“So I do nothing?
Just pray for him?”

“You say that as
if prayer’s not that important. Of course you pray! And what’s more, you pray
hard. You storm the gates of heaven on his behalf. You cry out to God to pour
His presence over Donnie in such a way that he’ll have no question whatsoever
that God Himself has touched his life again.”

“But why does God
go silent at times like this? Why would He desert Donnie when his heart was
broken—and in his case, quite
literally
broken. I’ll never understand
why God does that.”

“Of course you won’t.”

“I beg your
pardon?”

“You won’t
understand because you
can’t
understand. God is God. We try so hard to
put Him in a box and think He’ll behave the way
we
think He should
behave. But remember, He’s got the bigger picture. Sometimes He allows us to go
through things—why, things we find absolutely unbearable—and we shake our fists
in His face when He doesn’t respond the way we think He should. But my dear, He
sees far beyond what you or I can see ahead of us. He sees miles on down the
road, years into our future. As much as we might want to, we simply can’t know
what He knows.”

The gentle
Southern drawl in his voice soothed my spirit even if I didn’t completely
understand all that he was saying. Well, I suppose I understood it. I just didn’t
quite know what to do with it. It was nothing new, just a reminder of what I’d
grown up knowing. But knowing and living it are two different things.

We talked a while
longer, and I began to feel myself getting sleepy.

“Could I pray for
you, Shelby? Pray for your friend Donnie?”

“I’d like that.”

And he did. The
kindest, most heartfelt prayer for my troubled spirit and for Donnie’s doubts.
By the time he said amen, I felt a wave of peace beginning to seep into my
soul.

“Thank you, Dr.
Love. And thanks for letting me bother you tonight. I’ll bet you’re glad none
of the rest of your flock can sneak in late at night like this. You’d never get
any rest.”

“That’s for sure.
Although . . .” A mischievous grin played on his lips.

“Although what?”

He wiggled his
index finger, motioning for me to lean closer. “You’re not the only after-hours
guest I’ve had tonight.”

“Really?”

“Elvis was by
earlier,” he whispered. “Slipped in the back door when no one was looking.”

I laughed,
confident he was pulling my leg. “Sure he did, Dr. Love.”

He sat up, cocking
his head to one side. “You don’t believe me?”

“Well . . .
no, I guess I don’t. Why would Elvis—”

“Good heavens, Elvis
and I go way back, my dear.”

“You’re kidding,
right?”

“Not at all. We’ve
been good friends for many years. Many’s a night he’ll call at two or three in
the morning just wanting to chat. Sometimes he’ll ask me to drive over to
Graceland and we’ll talk for several hours.”

“I had no idea,
Dr. Love.”

“Well, I don’t
tell too many folks. A fellow like him, with all that craziness around him all
the time . . . he likes his privacy. He needs to know he can
talk to me and not worry about our conversations showing up in some newspaper.
My, how he loves to talk about the Lord, ask questions about theology and what
not. We’ve had some interesting discussions, I can tell you that much. But I sure
worry about him. He’s surrounded by so many bad influences and people taking
advantage of his kindnesses. But he’s got a good grasp on what the Bible
teaches. Problem is, like the rest of us, he has trouble living the life he
knows he should.”

I stared at him,
realizing I was sitting in the same chair the King had no doubt occupied.

“So what’s he
really like?”

He laughed. “Oh,
he’s just a normal guy like the rest of us, Shelby. Puts his pants on one leg
at a time just like the next guy.”

“No, what’s he
really
like? Is he as charismatic as everyone says?”

“Well, he can
definitely put on the charm when he wants to. And he knows how to use it,
believe me. But underneath all that, he’s just a nice guy. A nice guy who’s
carrying a heavy load most of the time.”

“Would you believe
I met him once when I was really young?”

“You did? My
goodness, that must have been quite a thrill for you!”

“It might’ve been
except that I have no memory of it. He came down to Dad’s showroom in the
middle of the night to let his buddies pick out Cadillacs—his Christmas gift to
them.”

“Oh, that’s right!
It had slipped my mind that ol’ Cadillac Jack kept Elvis stocked in Caddies for
himself and his friends.”

“And complete
strangers, from what I understand.”

“Oh my yes, he
loves shocking folks by handing them the keys to a new Cadillac.”

I stood up.  “Well,
I need to go. Thanks again, Dr. Love. You take care of yourself, okay?”

“I’ll do that,
Shelby. And thanks for coming by.”

“My pleasure.
Goodnight.”

A few minutes
later I walked out of the hospital into the cool night air wondering how
someone like Elvis could play the game so well, flying under the radar to avoid
all the pandemonium. What a life.

And to think I’d
just missed him.

Again!

Chapter 24

Things were
different the rest of the week. I don’t know how the other girls felt, but even
the air seemed different around us. Maybe I was just paranoid, but it felt like
Mrs. Baker was surely hiding around the next corner, trailing me all over the
hospital, ready to catch me on a potty break. I could just imagine her barging
into my bathroom stall, tsk-tsk’ing me as she peered over her readers, warning,
“Time’s a wasting!” It made for a most uncomfortable work environment, but the
only thing I knew to do was work hard and go lots and lots of extra miles.

I was careful to
watch my time for lunch and coffee breaks, but I still took them. Tucker met me
for coffee on Thursday at the end of another of his 48-hour shifts. How he and
the other residents pulled those long hours, I had no idea. He looked tired but
good.

“They just
released Dr. Love,” Tucker said before giving his face a hard rub. “I had a
chance to stop by before he left. He seemed to be doing a lot better.”

“I’m glad he
finally got to go home. I just hope he can get some rest.”

“Oh, I guarantee
Elsie will see to that.”

I leaned forward. “Did
you know he and Elvis are good friends?” I whispered.

He smiled. “Doesn’t
surprise me.”

“So you knew?” I
asked.

“No, but I’m sure
their paths have crossed a few times. And probably right here at good ol’ BMH.
Elvis is a regular customer around here, you know.”

I swatted his arm.
“I know, I know. I just think it’s funny. Elvis and Dr. Love. I’d never figure
them for friends.”

Tucker sipped his
coffee. “Think about it, Shelby. Dr. Love doesn’t know a stranger. Elvis has . . .
issues
, shall we say. Memphis isn’t that big. And you’ve gotta figure
someone like Elvis would seek out some kind of spiritual counseling from time
to time. In between all the concerts. And all the girls. And—”

“Okay, okay. I get
it.”

“But enough about
Elvis. Are we still on for Saturday night?”

“Saturday night?
Well, I’d planned to do some laundry and paint my nails. And I was thinking
about sorting out my sock drawer. You mean besides that?”

His eyes narrowed,
a trace of disappointment in them. “Shelby.”

“I’m just kidding.
But I had you going for a moment there, didn’t I? Of course I remember. We’re
having dinner at the Peabody. But are you sure you want to do something that
fancy? I’d be perfectly happy with fried green tomatoes at Frankie’s.”

“Nah, let’s do
something fancy. We can do Frankie’s any time.”

“Do I need to wear
something formal? An evening gown? Should I dust off my tiara?”

“Dust away,
Moonpie. You wear whatever you like. I’ll probably wear surgical scrubs, but
whatever floats your pretty little boat.”

“Scrubs? Well,
then. I’ll just iron my PJs and the two of us will make quite the fashion
statement.”

“If we want to see
the duck parade, I should probably pick you up at 4:30. I know that’s kind of
early, but I still think it’d be fun. Is that okay?”

“Works for me.”

He grabbed our
empty coffee mugs and headed for the conveyer belt. As he turned back around,
he yawned, his face contorted.

“That’s lovely,
Dr. Thompson. Really lovely.”

“Isn’t it though?
I practice those in front of the mirror for optimal effect.” He put his hand on
my back and guided me toward the cafeteria exit. “And now if you’ll excuse me,
I’m going home to sleep. I’ll try to get up in time for our date.”

“That’s in two
days.”

“It sure is. Two
days of blissful slumber. See you, Shelby.” He tossed me a wink over his
shoulder and headed toward the Union exit.

I was just about
to go back upstairs when I heard my name paged. When I called, the operator
told me Mrs. Baker asked me to stop by the office.

Must be my
turn.

I’d heard the
other girls talking about their one-on-ones with Mrs. B. For the most part they’d
gone well, though I’d been warned our boss wasn’t letting up on her steely new
demeanor in these private sessions. But I was glad to have my turn and looking
forward to putting it behind me.

We walked together
to the same small conference room where we’d all met earlier in the week. The
silence was unnerving, so I tried to make small talk as we entered.

“I understand Dr.
Love went home today.”

“Have a seat,
Shelby. Yes, he did. Elsie will have her work cut out for her trying to make
him take it easy. But I expect he’ll do fine. Dr. Weir has indicated his
progress has been remarkable, all things considered.”

“I’m glad to hear
that. I think the world of him.”

“I do, too. Now.
Enough about Thomas.”

I took a deep
breath, bracing myself.

“Shelby, I’d be
lying if I didn’t tell you how disappointed I’ve been in you. You came with
such a high recommendation from Rachel Bauer. I’d never have dreamed that you
would fall into the bad habits some of the other girls have apparently lapsed
into.”

“I know, Mrs.
Baker. I’m disappointed in myself too. And I hope you won’t hold it against
Rachel that I blew it. It’s actually completely out of my character to do something
like that, and I want to apologize—again. I give you my word that I’ll never
let that happen again. I love my job. I want to be the best I can be.”

“Good. I’m glad to
hear it.”

For the next 20
minutes she reiterated much of what she’d said in our meeting on Tuesday, with
an occasional direct question thrown in. I wasn’t too sure why this one-on-one
meeting was necessary, but I suppose she thought it would drive home her
message by making it more personal to us.

“Shelby, I’ve
accepted your apology and outlined what’s expected of you. But do not forget
that you are still on probation. The next time—well, just know that you won’t
be given another chance if there’s ever a next time. Are we clear on that?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes,
Mrs. Baker. Absolutely clear. And you have my word. There won’t be a next time.”

Later, as Sandra
and I made our way to my car in the employee’s parking lot, we compared notes
about our one-on-ones. All the girls had them. Not just the Shameful Seven, as
we’d come to call ourselves. To be honest, I was tired of the whole subject and
asked Sandra if we could talk about something else on the way home.

Instead, she
talked me into stopping for an early dinner at Buntyns, a small restaurant right
by the railroad tracks near the MSU campus. We had to wait in line for almost
fifteen minutes, which I found odd since it was only 4:45 when we arrived. I
soon found out why.

The restaurant was
nondescript with booths covered in blue vinyl, tables covered in worn red Formica,
and not a lot in the way of decor. But whatever was lacking in ambience was
more than compensated by the most incredible home-cooked food I’d ever tasted.
Sandra had recommended the chicken and dumplings, and after just one bite I
thought I might just die and go to heaven then and there. I’d never tasted
anything like it. Meals came with the most enormous yeast rolls I’d ever seen.
To tell you they melted in your mouth would be a scandalous understatement. I
could have made a meal of them.

“Sandra, you have
to stop taking me to places like this. I’ll be the size of the entire BMH
complex if you don’t. But first pass the jam, okay?”

She handed me the
small dish of peach preserves then closed her eyes, savoring another bite of
the creamy chicken. “This has to be sinful. There’s no way it’s not.”

“So when are we
going to start jogging? We keep talking about it but so far that’s all we’ve
done. Talk won’t get these pounds off.”

“Oh! That reminds
me! I knew there was something I wanted to talk to you about. My charge nurse, Lori
Ann, told me today one of her rentals is available. It’s near the campus, so
maybe we can drive by after we finish here.”

“Yeah? What did
she tell you about it?”

“It sounds
perfect, Shelby. Two bedroom, two bath, hardwood floors, all new appliances,
and she just had the kitchen and bathrooms updated. I think it’s probably a
little smaller than our townhouse, but she promised me she’s never had trouble
with mice.”

“That’s all I need
to know. But can we afford it?”

“Two-fifty. I know
it’s a little more than what we’re paying, but think how much we’ll save on gas
living so much closer to town.”

“Well, it sounds
great. Let’s go check it out. Can we get inside?”

“Not tonight, but Lori
Ann said if we’re interested she’ll meet us there this weekend to give us a
tour.” Sandra waved her hand. “Waitress?” When the uniformed waitress stopped
by, she ordered two cherry cobblers ala mode.

I wiped my mouth. “Sandra!
I’m stuffed! Why would you order dessert?”

“Two reasons. One,
Buntyns’ cobbler is life changing. You’ve never tasted anything so delicious in
your life.”

“And two?”

“And two, we’re
going to be living near MSU. We can get up and run their track every morning
before work. So the cobbler is our celebratory farewell to unwanted extra
pounds.”

“Your logic makes
no sense.”

The waitress
returned with the biggest bowls of cobbler I’d ever seen, each with a huge
scoop of vanilla ice cream drizzling over it.

It only took one
bite. “Oh, yeah. Now I get it.” I wanted to put my face in that concoction and
just eat without restraint, but I refrained. It was
amazing.

Later, we drove to
the address Lori Ann had given Sandra for the rental. The house was adorable,
with a wide front porch stretching the entire width of the house. Four concrete
steps led up to it from a sidewalk lined with hostas and impatiens. Two rocking
chairs and a swing graced the porch. The house was painted a pale sage green
with white shutters on each of the front windows. A bright red door with a
brass kick plate stood ready to welcome us to our new home.

Just as we got out
to look around and take a peek in the windows, a car pulled up behind us. A
woman in a white nurse’s uniform stepped from the sedan.

“Sandra! I was
hoping I’d catch you.”

“Lori Ann, we love
it! Can we see inside?”

“Of course you
can. I was just stopping by to make sure they finished painting the bathrooms
today.”

Sandra stopped and
turned back toward me. “Oh, I almost forgot. This is my roommate, Shelby
Colter. Shelby, this is Lori Ann Trussell, the charge nurse on Eight.”

I extended my hand
to her. “Nice to meet you.”

“Ah,” she said,
shaking it, “you’re the one dating Dr. Thompson, right?”

Huh?
How on
earth did she know that? I shot a look at Sandra who shot me back a look of
innocence.

“I’ve just seen
you two in the cafeteria a lot, that’s all. We love Dr. Thompson up on Eight.”

“Oh, I see. Well,
Tucker—I mean, Dr. Thompson and I are just friends. Really.”

“Ah, well.
Whatever you say,” she said, chuckling. “Now come on in. Let me show you
around.”

I couldn’t believe
how perfect the house was. If I had the money, I would have bought it on the
spot. If I’d built it myself, I would have designed it exactly the way it was.
Sandra and I each claimed our bedrooms then started planning how to arrange our
furniture in the living and dining rooms.

“When can we move
in?” Sandra asked, doing her little dance.

“Any time.”

“After the mouse
problem we’ve had at the townhouse, our landlord does
not
want to cross
us, so I’m guessing we can get out of our lease by the end of the month.”

“Perfect,” Lori
Ann said. “I’ll have the papers drawn up, and we’ll make it official.”

As we drove home,
we talked non-stop about our new home and all our ideas for fixing it up. But as
we drove up to our complex and stopped by the drive-by mailboxes, I had to ask.

“Sandra, I don’t get
why everyone thinks Tucker and I are dating. It’s not like we’ve been going out
every night or paging each other all the time. Why is everyone at Baptist so
into everyone else’s business? I have to say, it’s really annoying.”

“Clearly you’ve
never worked in a hospital before,” she said, throwing in a sarcastic laugh as
I handed her the wad of letters and junk mail.

“Obviously I haven’t.”

“It’s just the
nature of it. Actually, it goes on everywhere, but it’s just amplified at
hospitals. Like all those hospital soap operas on TV. Probably because we work
with people who are sick and in critical situations. It’s all very dramatic,”
she said, waving her hand for emphasis. “Makes for a melodramatic work
environment. Don’t let it bother you.”

“But it does! I get
that we’re all caring for people who are sick and suffering. But that doesn’t
give everyone we work with the right to stick their noses into our private
lives.”

We got out of my
car and walked toward our townhouse. “That may be, but why are you so embarrassed
about people knowing you and Tucker are dating?”

I opened my mouth
then slowly closed it.

I had no idea. Not
a clue.