Santa, Bring My Baby Back

by Cheryl Harper

  Now he was in Viva Las Vegas because Grace hadn’t answered her door when he’d knocked. There were only so many places she could be, and the restaurant was top of the list.

  “Hi, Mr… . I mean, hi, Charlie. What can I get you tonight?” Cat the bartender fidgeted with her shirt and seemed to stand a little straighter.

  “Cat, do I make you nervous?”

  She smiled and shook her head in an effort to pretend that she was everything that was cool. And then she nodded. “Little bit. I mean, the boss’s son. You know.”

  She tried to smile like it didn’t really worry her much.

  “And it doesn’t help that I’m not as friendly as Willodean either.” She tried to come up with an answer, but he just waved it off. “Never mind. I was hoping I could see what Sal had on special tonight. And I’m looking for something sweet.”

  Cat pointed at the window. “I’ll just go… get Sal then?” When it came out like a question, he nodded and noticed Lucky was setting up for karaoke. Maybe he should get everything to go.

  Distracted by Lucky’s sound check, Charlie didn’t notice Sal had left the kitchen until he said, “Well, now, Mr. Charlie, Cat says you’re in the mood for something different. I got more meat loaf, and I know how you like it. Or could do a sandwich with some of them sweet potato fries.” Sal tossed a spotless white towel over the shoulder of his spotless white T-shirt. “What you in the mood for?”

  Charlie tapped the bar. “Sal, you might save us both some trouble and just teach me how to make that meat loaf for myself.” Not that he’d ever be able to replicate it. It would still be nice to have the secret in case he ever needed it.

  “Only two people in the world know that recipe, Mr. Charlie. I plan to keep it that way a bit longer.”

  “Really? I thought you dreamed it up all by yourself. We’ve had that meat loaf as long as the hotel’s been here, haven’t we?” Charlie honestly couldn’t remember a day in the hotel without Sal. He was a part of the place.

  Sal shook his head. “Naw, almost since it opened, sure, but it was Mr. Travis that brought this recipe. Most of the classics was all his doin’ and Miss Willodean hasn’t made a change. Miss Laura, now, she added a few things, but Miss Willodean put her foot down and most of Mr. Travis’s recipes have stayed on the menu. Good thing since the regulars would probably riot if we took ’em off.”

  When one of the showgirl waitresses put a ticket in the window, Sal pointed. “I better get back to work. How ’bout I surprise you?”

  “Sure. Hey, Sal?” When the cook turned back, Charlie said, “You aren’t ever going to call me Charlie, are you?”

  He shrugged. “Never can tell, Mr. Charlie. Sometimes an old dog can learn a new trick.”

  Charlie watched Sal slip back into his place like that was where he was meant to be. Every motion Sal had done a million times but it was graceful, and he whistled every now and then like he was just as satisfied as could be. Had he ever been that content? Surely he had, but no doubt it had been a while.

  He did his best not to think about Travis Luttrell, apparently the chef who’d created all of his favorites in the short time he’d worked here and been married to his mother. The revelation that everything that he loved about the place, except for his mother and Misty, he owed to the man he’d insulted and run off made him uncomfortable. At twenty-three, Charlie had had the passionate conviction of youth and ignorance on his side when he told his mother and Luttrell exactly what he thought about her marrying a man ten years younger and clearly intent on making his way up in the world.

  Chef Travis Luttrell had been smooth, the kind of smooth that kept women buzzing around him while men just wanted to shake his hand. And when his mother had told him they’d gotten married without telling him, of all things, he’d lost it. He’d always wanted to protect her and that felt like the biggest slap to the face. He’d been at grad school and when he came home, he had a new stepfather, one not even a decade older than he was. He’d moved his stuff out to the staff apartments, but that hadn’t lasted two weeks before he was driving his car back across Tennessee to stay with his grandfather, a man he barely knew. And he’d done it because he knew it would hurt his mother.

  But his mother was right. He’d paid a pretty high price in return for his grandfather’s room and board. To earn his keep, something the old man had been very set on, he’d baled more hay that summer than he could have imagined. He’d done every odd job his grandfather could find: fixing fence for one old crony, mowing and mowing and mowing and mowing, and only the righteous anger had kept him there until he could get back to Knoxville to finish up his MBA. By the time graduation had rolled around, Willodean and Travis were fighting, she was destroyed, and Charlie had carried the biggest load of guilt around ever since.

  From his spot at the bar, Charlie thought Lucky was looking a little better than he had when he’d visited over the summer. Then he’d been pretty sure Lucky was never sober. Now he was steady enough, but his patter had lost a little of its oomph even if he was standing upright to deliver it.

  When Cat set a burger in front of him, he said in a low voice, “Lucky’s looking better.”

  Cat leaned against the bar. “Should be feeling better too now that he can actually get off the stage without help.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Got a new girlfriend; a teacher if you can imagine. She loves Elvis and hates alcohol and Lucky is quickly becoming a convert.” She wiped a towel on the bar. “Thank God. We were having a hard time saving him from himself, you know?”

  Charlie nodded. He did know. He’d written four checks himself on behalf of Willodean to treatment programs. Maybe all Lucky had needed was the love of a good woman.

  Lucky finished his opening bit, mainly old jokes about Elvis, Memphis, rocking and rolling that every regular in the place had heard a million times already but laughed along with because tradition was a big thing at the Rock’n’Rolla Hotel. To fit the season, he was a thin Elvis Santa in red velvet. He’d skipped the bushy white beard but kept the wig, a snow-white pompadour. And then he did his own karaoke performance, something he’d stopped doing… a long time ago. Charlie would have asked his mother why she kept Lucky on. Drunk, he wasn’t really all that pleasant to be around, on or off the stage, but Lucky was a Rock’n’Rolla tradition himself. He’d been the first, the original, the constant Elvis on staff. Maybe there were others through for the yearly Almost Famous competition, and sometimes fan clubs brought their own so that the hallways of the hotel looked like a rhinestone jumpsuit convention, but Lucky had always been here.

  At least Lucky had chosen “Here Comes Santa Claus” to sing. The upbeat, cheerful Christmas song gave him plenty of opportunity to shake his hips and work the stage, something every Elvis fan appreciated. And when it was all over, the applause was enthusiastic.

  “Aren’t you glad to see Lucky’s back in the swing of things?”

  Charlie turned to see his mother had settled on the stool next to him. “Looks like he’s feeling more himself.”

  She nodded. “Been a long time since he’s looked this good. Maybe not since his wife died.” Charlie had to think back but he couldn’t remember a married Lucky.

  Willodean said, “Maybe ten years. He just… it’s not easy, you know.” Charlie took a bite of the burger. That was twice in the span of a Viva Las Vegas visit that he’d realized there was more behind the scenes than he knew anything about. Lucky had had a hard time. He’d been a drunk and an ass because of it. Maybe he still didn’t love the ass portion but at the same time, Charlie felt a little bit better, a little more open to liking the new, sober man.

  “I’m surprised to see you here. Thought you had another date tonight. Hey, Sal, one Elvis!” She waved through the window at Sal who nodded back.

  “You and that sandwich. I’m surprised you don’t have peanut butter running in your veins at this point.”

  His mother slapped him on the arm and then smiled her thanks at Cat who delivered a ginger ale. “I noticed you d
idn’t answer. Date go like you expected?”

  Charlie thought about his answer. “Yep. Just exactly like I expected.” He turned to face her and nodded once. “Last night’s was such a boring disappointment that I cancelled tonight’s. And I would have told you that if you’d been around today. I’m guessing you and Grace had to do a little shopping.” His mother took a sip of her drink, but when she put her glass back on the bar, Charlie thought he could see a satisfied smile flash across her face.

  When she turned back to him, though, she was all innocence again. “Did you miss us?”

  She very obviously had not answered his question. They’d danced this budget dance a million times, though. Charlie decided to concede gracefully this round.

  “Guess what Sal told me tonight.” Charlie bit into his burger and watched Grace climb the stairs to the small stage, her hips a beautiful illustration of poetry in motion. She wore a classic red dress he hadn’t seen before. He had no idea how he’d missed her entrance. Knowing she was in the room usually made him more alert, like his skin hummed with awareness. He’d blame it on the burger.

  “I can imagine Sal knows all sorts of things.”

  Charlie had lost track of what they were talking about so he nodded.

  When his mother poked his arm, he tore his gaze away from Grace. “What?”

  She sniffed and then calmly said, “You were going to share something that Sal told you, Charlie.” She didn’t say “Pay attention” but he could hear it in her voice.

  “Oh, yeah, Sal told me all the recipes for the popular favorites on the menu came from Travis.” Charlie watched her face closely as he polished off his dinner.

  She shrugged and pretended not to care a bit. “I guess Sal should know.”

  “And I guess you do too.” He took a drink of his sweet tea. “Seems like something you might choose to batter me over the head with every time I act like I’m starving the minute I walk in the door.”

  Willodean smiled at Cat, who slid a plate in front of her, and then picked up her own sandwich. “Nonsense. We’ve talked about this. Besides, you’d only say that being a good cook doesn’t make him a good person.”

  Charlie watched her for a minute and hated that he could hear the words in his own voice. He hadn’t known Lucky’s issues. He didn’t know a thing about Travis Luttrell except that he was too young to be his stepfather and moved fast. Since he was ready to move pretty fast with Grace, he was starting to wonder just how bad a mistake he’d made. Sure, he’d split them up. That hadn’t been his goal or at least he hoped he hadn’t planned on their fiery divorce, especially now that he knew what it had done to his mother and his relationship with her. At the time, he’d thought it a happy ending or maybe the only proper choice. But he hadn’t known Travis and he was starting to wonder just how well he knew the real Willodean Jackson.

  “Now then, I’ve got a special treat for y’all. If she sings as pretty as she looks, Miss Grace Andersen, the newest employee here at the Rock’n’Rolla Hotel, is going to knock your socks right off,” Lucky said from the stage.

  Charlie hadn’t really expected to see Grace perform, but he should have after he’d heard her singing. When the spotlight hit her, she lit up. Charlie watched Lucky and Grace closely. When Lucky kept his hands off and his eyes on his small sound board instead of shooting comically obvious leers in Grace’s direction, he knew for sure Lucky had turned over a new leaf.

  Somehow Charlie had forgotten just how beautiful she was. That or she was growing prettier every minute. Was either possible? He had no idea. All he knew was that, as he took a bite of burger, he couldn’t describe anyone else in the room. All he could see was Grace, her curves outlined by the short-sleeved red dress. Her orange puffy coat better be hidden away somewhere or she was going to get frostbite on her extremities during the walk around the pool. Unless he went with her. Just to make sure she didn’t die from the elements in the two minutes from door to door.

  He wouldn’t want the hotel to lose its newest employee.

  When the strains of “Love Me Tender” started, he almost groaned out loud. But then he saw Grace in the bar’s single spotlight and didn’t care what she sang. No matter which song she picked, he’d stay to listen just to see the way her mouth shaped the words. She was wearing bright red lipstick and her dark hair and eyes, her pale skin, and tight red dress made her look like a lounge singer in the best way. But this was the Rock’n’Rolla Hotel and in Viva Las Vegas, the only music that played was Elvis music and the only people allowed on the stage knew the rules.

  And when Grace performed “Love Me Tender” it was different than the countless other times he’d heard the song. He could feel heartbreak and longing, and if the breathless silence of the rest of the restaurant was any indication, every person in the room could feel it too. She didn’t have a voice for radio. She had a voice for a small, dark club where people could see the emotion on her face. She was made for the Viva Las Vegas stage.

  His dinner was tumbling in his stomach, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. When the last notes ended, there was silence. Charlie had to brace himself against the bar, but he started the applause. When the rest of the restaurant joined in, the spell was broken and Lucky jumped back up on the stage.

  “Well, now, that was a treat. Am I right? Miss Grace Andersen is going to be planning weddings, conferences, and fan club meetings here at the hotel. So if you got an event, she’ll be glad to help. And maybe you can talk her into singing.” Lucky picked up his list. “I know I’m going to be calling on her to get back up here every chance I get. Next up, we’ve got Sidney Green who wants to do a little bit of ‘Hound Dog.’”

  Grace and Sidney passed each other on the stairs, and Charlie watched her wind through the tables until Willodean stopped her. Thank God his mother had stepped in. He hadn’t quite regained his equilibrium yet. Left to him, he’d never have caught Grace. And that thought made it clear he needed to do a better job on his own. He’d decided last night to pursue her even though when this thing between them ended, tonight or ten years from now, it would hurt. He’d carefully considered the pros and cons. Then, when the con list was too long to ignore, he’d crumpled the paper and tossed it into the wicker wastebasket. At some point, he’d decided that, no matter how bad the bad times got, he was willing to take the risk on the good times with her. He’d hold on to that connection as long as he could.

  Chapter Eight

  * * *

  GRACE WAS DOING her best not to look at Charlie when Willodean stopped her. The loud lecture going on in her head about how he was a single man with absolutely no obligation to her at all in any way, shape, or form distracted her. So what if he’d been out on two dates while she… well, she’d been pretty sure she wasn’t going to sit around thinking about that. Karaoke and loud conversation at Viva Las Vegas had seemed the perfect way to spend the evening. That was before she saw Charlie at the bar. But she’d already put on her best dress. She was committed. If she hadn’t been so busy pretending to be oblivious to his stare, she’d have successfully avoided him for one more night. Willodean had told her to take Friday off and given her a Graceland ticket. It would get her out of the hotel and help her on the job, neither of which she told Willodean but no excuse was necessary. Willodean expected everyone to make the pilgrimage to Graceland at the first opportunity.

  The forced separation from Charlie had seemed a blessing after she’d spent most of the night replaying the kiss and going in circles in her head about what she wanted to do about it. When faced with a decision, she usually went with her instincts. She hated indecision, but she’d almost decided to talk to him about… dating for now, not forever. Could he even go with the flow like that?

  This time she wasn’t sure whether it was her instinct or her desire to have Charlie’s lips on hers again telling her to take the risk. Either way, she was scared. And then Willodean had casually mentioned his date while they were out shopping. And she’d been mad about losing sleep over
him. Of course that’s all it was.

  “You were wonderful up there, Grace. I bet Lucky’ll try to get you to start things off every night,” Willodean said as she hugged her. “And you look so nice too.”

  Grace turned her back on Charlie and smiled. “Thanks, Willodean. Sometimes I get this crazy urge to stand up in front of people to entertain. This may be the perfect setup for me. A real job during the day and a handy stage to get out the urges when necessary.”

  Willodean subtly shifted and Grace did too so that Charlie completed their circle. Grace met his eyes but quickly looked away. She’d nearly forgotten the words up on the stage when she looked up to see him watching her so intently. But instead of nervous, he made her feel confident and really beautiful. She had no idea how he did it either. He had looked pained when she’d started to sing, but maybe it had more to do with the song choice than her voice.

  When Willodean had told her over lunch during their shopping that Charlie was headed out for dinner that night with one of his dates and that she hadn’t gotten the progress report from his date the night before, Grace had felt it like a hard shove, a push that might wake her up if she was sleepwalking. And since then, she’d tried to tell herself it was all for the best. Charlie and his schedule could never be what she needed.

  Even his mother, the local matchmaker, had agreed.

  The urge to get up on a stage, to perform, had been immediate. That was nothing new. She’d been entertaining as a way to handle her uncomfortable emotions for a very long time.