Blue Like Elvis

by Diane Moody

  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 e
asily 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?”