Blue Like Elvis (4 page)

Chapter 4

Ten minutes later
we’d gone through the cafeteria line and found a table near the windows. The smell
of the food. The memory jolt. The information overload. It was definitely
taking its toll. I’d picked a salad and hoped I could park it where it
belonged—in my stomach, not on Tucker’s nice white lab coat.

It was strange
at first, trying to reconnect when our original encounters were so . . .
bizarre. But glory, I could hardly take my eyes off him. It was so weird.
Completely surreal. Him sitting there, looking so handsome. Me, sitting here
trying to fork my lettuce and get it in my mouth. We caught up on each other’s
lives, filling in the gap of so many years. We talked about our families and
memories of growing up in Memphis.

“So, how’s Jimmy
doing?”

“He’s still overseas.
We’re hoping he’ll be home soon. Mom’s been a basket case ever since he
deployed for Vietnam four years ago. But when the war ended, he still had a
couple of years to serve out his term. So the Army sent him to the Philippines.
At least, that’s the last I heard. He’s not great about keeping in touch.”

“I can’t
imagine,” he said, biting into his BLT. “I really hate that we lost track of
each other. School has devoured me the last few years, but that’s no excuse.
You’ll have to let me know when he gets back stateside. I’d love to see him
again.”

“Me, too. So,
tell me how you ended up here at Baptist. I never figured you for someone to
stay so close to home after all these years.”

Tucker wiped his
mouth then took a sip of iced tea. “It’s all about who you know. Med school was
tough. But I survived. Only by the grace of God, I can assure you. When my
internship at Vandy was winding down, I started checking out my options. Dad
was a fraternity brother of Dr. Grieve when they were both at Vandy.”

“Grieve,” I
interrupted. “Unfortunate name for a hospital administrator, don’t you think? I
mean, what are the odds?” I pondered.

He laughed. “But
then we all do. Eventually.”

“Do what?”

“Grieve.”

“Well, there you
go. I’m sorry, you were saying?” I asked.

Honestly, I’ve
got to stop this. Every time he smiles, I find myself wondering . . .

“Oh, right,” he
continued. “So Dad was in law school, but he and Dr. Grieve got to be good
friends. So when it came time for my residency—”

“Daddy pulled
some strings, and voila! Plumb residency at one of the premiere private
hospitals in the world.”

“Voila, indeed.”

“Tucker?” a
voice interrupted. “What are you doing?”

We both looked
up at the blonde standing beside our table. “Cassie! I thought you had jury
duty today.” Tucker stood up, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I would have
waited if I knew you were coming.”

“Am I
interrupting . . . ?” She looked back and forth between us. I
didn’t need to look in a mirror to know I was eight shades of crimson by then.

“No, not at all.
Cass, I want you to meet an old friend of mine. This is Moonpie. Remember me
telling you about my childhood friend, Jimmy Colter? Well, this is his kid
sister, Shelby. Only we knew her affectionately back then as Moonpie.”

“Ah, Moonpie.
The girl you and Jimmy used to torment. Hi, Shelby. Nice to meet you. I’m
Cassie.”

“Hi, Cassie.” I held
my hand out in an awkward attempt at normal.

“Sweetheart, you
want to grab some lunch?” Tucker looked at his watch. “I’ve still got fifteen
more minutes.”

“No, I’ll just
eat the other half of your sandwich if that’s okay. I only have half an hour
before we have to report back.” She took a seat and helped herself to the rest
of Tucker’s BLT. “Shelby, whatever you do, avoid jury duty. It’s such a pain.
All the waiting. It’s just ridiculous.”

 “I’ll try to
remember that,” I said, standing. “But I’ve got to run. I have orientation
starting in a few minutes.”
Thank God.
“But it was nice meeting you,
Cassie. And Tucker, what can I say—it’s been . . . interesting.”

Tucker stood
again, good Southern gentleman that he was. “Hey, I’ll see you around, okay?
And congratulations on your new job.”

I said my
goodbyes, grateful for the chance to get out of there. In less than half an
hour, I’d gone from a blast from the past shock of a lifetime, to a quite
sudden and unexpected goo-goo-eyed, adolescent crush . . . to a
deflated ego as I watched the perfect couple across from me sharing a lunch.

And so it goes.

I made my way
back to the hostess office to freshen up and psyche myself for the long
afternoon orientation. Mrs. Baker was apparently at lunch as her desk was vacant.
As I rounded the corner into the back office, the cackle of female chatter riddled
the air.

“Shelby! Is it
true you had lunch with a resident?” a redhead asked. “Goodness, girl! That’s fast!”

I couldn’t
remember her name. I couldn’t remember any of their names at the moment. But I
knew I had to set the record straight. “No, no, no. He’s just an old friend.
Well, actually, a friend of my brother’s. No big deal, I assure you.”

“Oh, don’t be so
modest!” a blonde chimed in. “Half the fun of working here is window shopping,
if you know what I mean.” They all talked at once, laughing and cutting up.

“Well, that may
be true, but this resident is taken. His girlfriend showed up, so you can put
away your bridal gifts.”

They all laughed
at that one. I had to admit, they were a lot of fun. After my momentary pity
party, they’d make me feel good. I think I was going to like working here. In
fact I was sure of it.

The rest of the
week was a blur as I continued shadowing Pamela and attending orientation
sessions in the afternoon. Gradually I began to relax and enjoy my days. I only
ran into Tucker a couple of times, though Mrs. Baker told me he’d called once
while I was up on Nine. It just seemed better to avoid him at this point.
Better all the way around.

I was already
loving the girls, and it seemed mutual. We all came from diverse backgrounds,
but still had a lot in common. Toward the end of the week, I actually felt a
few moments of genuine joy, thankful I’d found such a perfect fit for my first
real job. It beat the heck out of Taco Barn.

On Friday, around 3:00,
our orientation concluded with our introduction to Dr. Grieve. By this time, I
was expecting someone who was part John Wayne, part Marcus Welby. He was
neither. Standing only 5’5”, the beloved president of Baptist Memorial Hospital
joined us in the conference room, making his way to the head of the table. He
introduced himself and shared some of his personal background and that of the
hospital.

Dr. Grieve,
I pondered yet again.
Dr. William Grieve. Did the kids call him Willy when
he was young? Willy Grieve? Won’t he? Did he go into hospital work because of
his name? I once knew a dentist named Dr. Molar and a podiatrist named Dr.
Foote. It does make you wonder. Can a name determine your future? And if so,
what does that mean for me—Shelby Colter? Well, okay—Rayce Colter. Should I be
training for the Olympics? Running marathons? Or was I destined to win a Nobel
Peace prize, bridging the gap between the races? Then again, everyone knows me
as Shelby. Maybe I was supposed to run for office. Mayor of Shelby County?

Then again,
there was that
other
name. Would I eventually be CEO of the company that
made Moonpies . . . ?

“Of course, I’m
always delighted to meet our new hostesses. Miss Colter?”

Hearing my name
snapped me back from the rabbit trail to the moment at hand. “Yes, sir?” I
answered, half standing.

“Welcome, welcome!”
he gushed, making his way to me around the long conference table. “Since I
first initiated this program in 1953, I’ve welcomed many a young lady to our
ranks, and I’m always proud to do so. Virginia tells me you’re a Samford
graduate?”

“Yes, sir. I graduated
last spring. Class of ‘76.”

“And what do you
think of our grand institution so far?” He practically beamed, like the proud
papa he was. I had to make this good.

“I couldn’t be
happier. It’s an honor to be here, Dr. Grieve.”

“Splendid!
Splendid!” He patted me on the back and made his way toward the door. “Welcome,
one and all. Now go out there and make us proud!”

And with that, he
left the room.

Moments later, I
returned to the hostess office, ready to wind down the week. By this time of
day, most of the visits had been made and errands run. For the most part, the
last hour or so was just a matter of waiting for any late calls. I noticed an
empty seat on the sofa. By now I’d learned to grab them when I could. Top real
estate in such cramped quarters.

A serenade in
Spanish filled the room. Sandra danced all around us, but I had no clue what
she was singing about.

“Sandra, give it a
rest,” Sarah Beth complained.

“What? It’s Friday,
the weekend is here! What’s not to sing about! Time to dance!” She stomped her
wedged heels in a flamenco of sorts then parked her tiny self on the arm of the
sofa beside me. “So, Shelby. Where do you live?”

“Me? I’m staying
with some friends out in Germantown. Why?”

“I’m looking for a
roommate. Mine moved out last weekend.”

“Ask her why she
moved out,” Chelsea said. I already loved Chelsea. She was sweet and adorable
with a quick tongue.

Sandra
fake-grimaced and whined playfully. “Oh now, why do you have to go and—”

“Greta moved out
because she found a week-old pot roast in the oven. Maggots and all,” Tess
added.

“That’s not what
happened!” Sandra barked, fighting a laugh.

“No, it was that
salsa music, night and day, day and night.” Chelsea chuckled.

“Oh now, you guys
aren’t being nice. You’re going to scare the girl!” Sandra suddenly grabbed me
in a fierce embrace, her head on my shoulder. “You’ve got to move in! I need
help with the rent. It’s a beautiful townhouse. Two bedroom, two bath.
Cathedral ceiling. Balcony overlooking a lake. You’ll love it. Don’t listen to
these busybodies.”

They all laughed,
then continued to tease their miniature colleague.

I had to admit it
sounded good. And I wouldn’t have to go on the hunt in a town I really didn’t
know anymore. I just hoped I could handle a little Latin spice in my life.

“When can I see
it?”

Chapter 5

Moving day was . . .
interesting. Mom and Dad drove up, bringing my furniture and the rest of my
belongings. They immediately bonded with Sandra, enjoying her feisty spirit and
constant singing in Spanish. Mom was especially impressed with her floor-to-ceiling
bookcase in our living room filled with the classics. Who would have thought a 25-year-old
Puerto Rican girl would have such an appetite for those old books? Mom kept
wandering over to the shelves, running her fingers along the spines of
Hemmingway, Jane Austen, Tolstoy, Victor Hugo, and Sir Walter Scott. And I have
to admit, I’d already picked out a few titles I wanted to read myself.

But I wasn’t
sure how I’d adapt to living in an apartment with such a huge birdcage filled
with finches and their legion of offspring. They seemed to chatter incessantly
and scatter birdseed everywhere, but I still wanted to give it a try. Otherwise,
Sandra’s townhouse was cozy and well kept. Though I admit to sneaking a quick peek
in the oven. Clean as a whistle.

After helping me
get settled, we all went out for burgers at a nearby Danver’s. Mom and Dad
remembered the hamburger chain from years gone by and wanted to reintroduce me.
It was much nicer than the usual fast food environment, and the food was
amazing. I loved this part of Memphis near the MSU campus. The quaint older
homes, the variety of restaurants and shops. Plus the whole university ambience.
I was already starting to feel at home again.

Mom and Dad headed
back to Birmingham after we ate. Dad never liked to miss Sunday mornings at
church. He’d taught the senior high Sunday school for more than a decade. They
loved him, which was no great surprise. Everybody loved Jack Colter. And Mom
never liked to miss her ladies class, comprised of her dearest friends. We said
our goodbyes then I went home and finished unpacking.

I’d promised to
meet Rachel and Rich at their church the next morning. First Baptist graced a
huge corner where Poplar and East Parkway intersected near midtown. It was a
traditional Southern Baptist church and looked every red brick the part. White
pillars, steeple, and beautifully manicured grounds. I hadn’t gauged my driving
time right, so I was late meeting Rachel and Rich in the broad lobby at the
back of the sanctuary.

“I’m so sorry. Couldn’t
find a parking place.”

“No problem,
Shelby. We’re just glad you’re here,” Rachel said, hugging me. “There are still
some seats here at the back, so we’re good.”

We followed Rich
to a pew on the aisle just three rows from the back. The auditorium was filled
with glorious music, accompanied by a full orchestra and massive pipe organ. Just
like our church back home.

Except for a most
unusual interruption. Located so close to the medical community of Memphis,
ambulances frequently zoomed by the church. As one wailed by the church just
after the service began, the sanctuary’s frequency was interrupted by that of
the ambulance driver calling in the condition of the patient. It made for a quite
colorful break in the service.

“You’ve got to be
kidding,” I whispered quietly to Rachel.

“You’ll get used
to it. Everyone does.”

Here’s hoping
we never hear the gory details of a severed limb or someone’s brains spilling
out . . .

When the final
chorus of
O God Our Help in Ages Past
finished its crescendo, we took
our seats. As one of the staff members rattled off a list of announcements, I
settled in. I gazed around the enormous auditorium noticing the huge
chandeliers high above us, the deep crimson carpet surrounding us which matched
perfectly to the pew padding beneath us. I leaned to one side for a better view
of the platform to check out the ministers and the large choir seated behind
them. At the same time, the people in the row directly in front of me leaned
toward each other, catching my eye. It took a moment before I recognized the
beautiful head of blonde hair on the young woman and the tousled brown hair of
her companion.

Tucker and Cassie.

Great. Just
great.
I felt my face heating and mentally chided myself when it did.
How
ridiculous. Why should it matter who’s sitting in front of me?

When a rather
large woman floated out of the choir loft to the soaring introduction of her
solo, I concentrated on her every move, every lyric of her song, and every note
of her contra-alto solo. Of course, half-way through I caught myself zoned in
on Tucker’s broad shoulders, the freckles on the back of his neck, and the
messy loose curls just grazing the top of his white shirt. So much for good
intentions.

When the service
was over, I turned around, busying myself with my purse. If I was lucky, I
could slip out without being noticed.

“Rich, Rachel—how
are you?” I heard Tucker say behind me. “Goodness, woman, take a look at you
—
are
you carrying twins in there?”

“Very funny,
Tucker. No, just little Cooper,” Rachel said patting her protruding stomach. “Hi,
Cassie. Nice to see you. Oh, I’d like you to meet my friend Shelby. She just
moved here and
—
”

Oh no she did
not.
I closed my eyes before turning around and plastering a smile on my
face. “Hi, Tucker, Cassie. How are you?” I said, sickened at the sound of my
fake friendliness.

“You know each
other?” Rachel asked.

“Oh, Moo
—
I
mean,
Shelby
and I go way back,” Tucker said, obviously pleased with
himself for almost avoiding the forbidden nickname. “But we just bumped into
each other last week at Baptist.”

Rachel tapped her
forehead. “Well, of course you did. I can’t believe I didn’t think to introduce
you earlier since Shelby’s working there now.” She turned to me. “We met Cassie
and Tucker in our Sunday school class a few months ago. In fact, we’re heading
there now, so you’ll have to join us.”

“Great idea. You
should come,” Tucker added. “You’ll enjoy Dr. Krause. He’s on faculty at MSU.
Best Bible teacher I’ve ever heard.”

I started backing
out into the aisle. “Oh, I don’t think so. I’d feel out of place in a couples
class.”

Rachel laughed. “It’s
not a couples class. It’s a singles class. Rich and I just help out. It’s mostly
college students and young professionals. You’ll love it!”

I turned just in
time to see Cassie whisper into Tucker’s ear. That pretty much sealed the deal.
“Well, thanks, but not today. Maybe next time. But thank you for the
invitation.”

Rachel made a face
at me just as Tucker and Cassie said their goodbyes. Rich chatted with someone
behind us. “What was that all about?” Rachel asked, following me in the
opposite direction.

“What? I can’t
skip Sunday school this morning? What are you, my mother?”

Rachel blinked as
the smile faded from her face. I felt like a jerk.

“No, Rachel, I’m
sorry. That was rude. I’d just like to take a pass this morning, okay? I’d kind
of like to just look around, check out the library, maybe get a cup of coffee.”

“Oh, okay. That’s
fine. I didn’t mean to nag. So you know Tucker Thompson? What a small world. How
do you all know each other?”

“He’s a
childhood friend of my brother’s. Long story. No big deal.”

“And Cassie? How
did you meet her?”

“Oh, well, I
actually just met her with him the other day at the hospital. Who is she, by
the way? Tucker introduced us, but we didn’t really have a chance to talk.”

Rachel pulled me
into the ladies restroom. We did that a lot. I guess it goes with the territory
when you’re pregnant. After she emerged from a stall and washed her hands, we
slipped back out in the hall. “Cassie is the daughter of Judge McElroy. She’s a
blue blood. One hundred percent.”

“Debutante?
Cotillions? That whole thing?”

“That and then
some. Their family has Memphis roots that go way, way back.”

“So how did
Tucker hook up with someone like her? I mean, she’s beautiful
—
don’t get
me wrong. It’s just that he was always so down to earth and kinda goofy, y’know?
At least he used to be. I can’t really see him as the socialite type.”

We turned a
corner, passing the church offices. “Well, don’t forget Tucker’s daddy is a
prominent lawyer here in Memphis. He’s known Judge McElroy for years. So when
Tucker came back from Vanderbilt a few months ago to begin his residency, his
father introduced him to the judge’s daughter.”

“Rachel, Tucker
isn’t blue blood. And I know enough about Memphis to know how it works here.
You can be the best of friends, but if you don’t have that elite blood flowing
through your veins, you’re never gonna stand at the front of the church while
little Miss Debutante enters to the bridal march on her daddy’s arm. It’s never
gonna happen.”

We stopped in
front of the church library. “That’s true. But being a doctor
and
the
son of Roy Thompson
—
well, let’s just say Tucker’s on the ‘approved’ list
of eligible bachelors for Cassie. And besides, she really is nice. They make a
cute couple, don’t you think?”

“Oh sure!” I
said, hoping she didn’t pick up on my insincerity. “Just cute as can be, those
two. Well, you head on to Sunday school, okay? I’ll meet you afterward.”

“Okay, if you’re
sure you don’t want to come? We have
so
much fun, Shelby. You would love
this class. We do all kinds of parties and trips together, and we have Bible
studies on Tuesday night
—
”

“I promise. I’ll
come sometime, I will. Just not today.”

“Okay, then we’ll
meet you right here after class, okay?” She headed down the hall. “Rich wants
to take us out for lunch.”

“Great. Sounds
good.”

I wandered into
the library and started browsing the shelves. Mostly I just needed some space.
Things hadn’t gone at all as I’d expected them to. Silly me, thinking I could
just go to church, enjoy a service, and leave.
Maybe I can find a good book
to read and park myself in some out of the way corner.
I pulled a book from
the shelf and mindlessly skimmed the pages. I quickly noticed they started to
blur on me.

Oh good
grief. Why am I crying?
This is ridiculous.
It occurred to me it
wasn’t just because of Tucker that I’d avoided the singles class. I wasn’t
ready to jump back in that pond just yet. Not even close. I’d never doubted my
decision to break off my engagement with Will, but I still felt so raw from the
whole experience. It had been so
much more painful than I’d ever
expected. There were things I still missed about him. His rugged good looks.
His wild sense of humor. He was easily the most romantic man I’d ever known,
hands down. But he wasn’t right for me. And I think deep down, I’d always known
it. Even before he broke my heart.

“That’s a
wonderful book. I’ve read it myself, many times.”

I took a swipe
at my tears before looking up. I was surprised to find Dr. Love, the senior
pastor who’d just preached the sermon I’d inadvertently tuned out. He was not
much taller than I was, barrel-chested, with a thick head of gray hair.
Pronounced creases defined his friendly face with a couple of caterpillar brows
framing his deep-set eyes. A faint waft of cigar smoke drifted from his
direction, catching me completely off guard. It reminded me of those late
summer nights when Daddy used to puff on one of his rare stogies out on the
back porch.

“Hello,” I
croaked.

He looked up at
me over the top of his glasses. He seemed to study my face before a smile
slowly broke free. He held out his hand. “Thomas Love. And you are?”

I cleared my
throat, taking one more swipe at my stupid tears. “Shelby Colter. Nice to meet
you, Dr. Love.”

“Colter? I knew
a Jack Colter once. You any relation?”

Hearing my dad’s
name put me at ease. “Yes, I’m his daughter. How do you know my dad?”

“Why, everybody in
Memphis knows ol’ Cadillac Jack. Gave me my first Caddy. A ‘65 DeVille. Oh,
that was a sweet, sweet ride. How’s he doing? He still down in Birmingham?”

“Yes, he is.
Actually he and Mom were in town yesterday helping me move.”

His eyes lit up.
“So you’re new in town?”

“Well, I grew up
here until we moved away when I was ten. But I graduated last spring and just
started working at Baptist Hospital this week.”

“Did you now! I
get over there at least two or three times a week. Visiting the flock, don’t
you know. What kind of work? Are you a nurse?”

“No, I’m a hostess.
It’s part of the
—
”

“You’re one of Virginia’s
girls! I know all about the hostess program. Great concept. Bill Grieve’s pride
and joy. Well, good for you. You’ll do fine, just fine.” He glanced down at his
watch. “So why aren’t you in Sunday school? We’ve got lots of wonderful
classes, you know. Are you married? Single?”

“Oh, single. And
thanks, but . . .” I stalled and stammered. I mean, how do you
tell a pastor you don’t want to go to Sunday school? “But I just wanted to roam
a bit this morning. Maybe next week.”

“Well, you just
make yourself at home. Miss Colter, it’s such a pleasure to have you here
worshiping with us. Next time, you go check out George Krause’s class. Those
singles have a good, good time together in there. You’ll want to jump right in.”

And then, for no
particular reason, my eyes filled again. I couldn’t believe it. Like I didn’t
possess one ounce of composure.

He took hold of
my hand again and stepped a little closer. “There, now, what’s all this? What
could possibly bring a pretty young woman like you to tears on a morning like
this?”

Through my tears
I could see the honest sincerity in his eyes, which only undid me even more. I
took a deep breath, blowing out my frustration. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s
wrong with me this morning.”