Blue Like Elvis (19 page)

Chapter
27

The following Monday afternoon we had our first Bible study
with Chaplain Perkins. Goodness, that man was boring. How anyone could make scripture
that dull was beyond me. He was a nice enough guy, but teaching was definitely
not one of his spiritual gifts. I fought to stay awake and noticed I wasn’t the
only one. But with Mrs. Baker sitting in our midst, we weren’t about to risk
nodding off. When it was finally over, I wanted nothing more than to get
upstairs and visit my patients. Especially Donnie.

I was worried about my dear friend. He’d been a guest on Nine
for four weeks. The flowers sent by colleagues and friends had all withered and
died. Visits from co-workers at Holiday Inn’s corporate offices had begun to
taper off. Rachel stopped by as often as she could, but it was hard on her,
especially since he refused her prayers as well as mine. I’d taped all his get
well cards on the wall across from his bed. Quite a collection, but also a sad
reminder he’d been here much too long.

His recent surgery hadn’t helped as much as they’d hoped. Over
the past couple of weeks, he’d undergone more tests and been examined by
several more doctors, including the heart specialist from Vanderbilt. They were
trying to decide if he would be able to withstand the extreme risks involved
with a transplant. If he had any chance at all, he would have to be transferred
to Columbia University Medical Center in New York—but only when and if a heart
became available that was compatible to his blood type. Columbia was one of the
only hospitals in the country performing organ transplants. And while heart
transplants had improved greatly since the early days of Dr. Christaan Barnard
in South Africa, they were still extremely rare and survival statistics were
still not optimal.

But as Donnie said, what choice did he have?

I’d prayed constantly for him, but mostly I was worried sick.

“Hey buddy, how’s it going today?”

Donnie looked up from a book he was reading. “Hey, Shelby.”

He was so pale, almost ashen. And he looked more than a
little frail. “How about a stroll down to the coffee shop? My treat.”

“No, but thanks.”

“C’mon, Donnie. You need to get out of here. Please?”

“Whining doth not become thee, fair maiden.”

“And slothfulness doth not become thee, kind sir.”

“I hate when you mock me.”

“So humor me. I’ll go get you some wheels. Make yourself
decent and for heaven’s sake, do
not
go commando this time.”

“Never. I’m sporting my
Charlie’s Angels
boxers. Wanna
see?” He threw back his covers.

I covered my eyes. “No! You keep Farrah and the girls to
yourself, thank you very much. Now get out of that bed. I’ll be right back.”

“Witch.”

“Jerk.”

“Cretin.”

“Crybaby.”

If he added another term of endearment, I didn’t hear it. A
couple minutes later I returned with a wheelchair. He’d wrapped his robe around
himself and combed his hair. I helped him into the chair and off we went. I
took him on a brief tour of the hospital first, using my best flight-attendant
tone as I pointed out the various wings and points of interest.

“Here you see the world-renowned Baptist Memorial Hospital
gift shop, featuring hymnals, Bibles, and communion wafers at special discounts
for our Southern Baptist patients. Identification required, of course.”

“What, I’ve gotta show my circumcision scars to get a wafer?”

“Shhh! Donnie!”

“Just asking.”

“Well, stop asking and just observe.”

He waved me closer. “Shelby, look.”

“What?”

“Over there by the magazines. That’s Ginger Alden, Elvis’s
girlfriend.”

I peeked around a tall potted ficus tree and got a glimpse of
the former beauty queen and the King’s current girlfriend.

“Donnie, you know what that means!” I whispered urgently as I
wheeled his chair around to go the opposite direction.

“Ginger likes communion wafers?”

“No, silly, Elvis is in the building!”

“Which explains why you’re about to give me a whiplash,
speeding down the hall.”

I rounded the corner, hoping not to tip him over as I headed
for the back elevators.

“Shelby! What on earth are you doing? Slow down!”

“I will, I promise.” We rounded one more corner then I yanked
Donnie’s wheelchair to a stop, almost dumping him out of it. “Oh, sorry!”

He braced himself, palming his hand against the wall as I
pressed the up button on the elevator. “Where are you taking me?”

“Shhhh! I’m not supposed to take you on these elevators, but
it’s the only way.”

The elevator chimed then opened. Thankfully, no one was
inside. I whipped his chair around and pulled him inside then pounded number 16
on the panel list of floors.

“That’s not my floor. What are you doing? And what about the
coffee you promised me?”

I tried to catch my breath, leaning hard against the shiny
silver elevator wall.

“Elvis is here! We’re gonna ride up and see if we can sneak
by for a peek!”

“Are you out of your mind? They’re not going to let us just
stroll by up there.”

“Sure they will. Aren’t you forgetting? I work here. I’m in
uniform. They’ll think I’m just taking one of my patients back to his room.”

“Except that it’s not my floor, and might I remind you, it’s
not
your
floor either. Won’t the staff be a little suspicious?”

“I’ll think of something. Just sit tight and keep your mouth
shut.”

When the doors on Sixteen opened, I took a deep breath and
slowly pushed Donnie’s chair as if I had all the reason in the world to be on
that floor. We took the first corner into the main corridor heading to the
Union wing. I noticed no one was at the nurses’ station except the medical
records secretary whose focus was on a patient chart. I prayed she wouldn’t
look up as we passed. She didn’t.

But just as we turned to go down the long hall toward the
suite where I knew Elvis always stayed, Donnie reached back and grabbed my arm.

“Uh oh, looks like we’re busted,” he said out the side of his
mouth. “Call me crazy but those guys don’t exactly look like your friendly
Baptist orderlies.”

I had to agree. Three guys decked out in black leather jackets
stood guard about halfway down the hall. I noticed they all wore a lot of gold
and carried a distinct air about them, leaving no doubt in my mind. These guys
were part of the famous “Memphis Mafia,” Elvis’s entourage. They briefly
glanced up at us then resumed their conversation. I thought if I casually
pushed Donnie past them, acting as if he had a room down that hall, they might
ignore us and just let us pass.

I was wrong.

“Ma’am?”

I kept moving, pushing Donnie’s chair while nonchalantly
looking up at them. “Yes?”

“You’ll need to turn back around. This section of the hall is
closed.”

“Oh? I’m sorry. I guess I must have gotten off on the wrong
floor. This isn’t Fifteen?”

“No, ma’am. It’s not. You’re on Sixteen.”

I faked a chuckle. “Silly me.” I leaned down toward Donnie.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Rogers. I’ll have you back on Fifteen in a jiffy.” To the
Mafia men, “Forgive me. Have a nice day.”

I slowly began to turn around when Donnie started to cough.
He was wheezing something terrible, and I suddenly felt foolish for my lame attempt
for a glimpse of Elvis when Donnie wasn’t up to it.

“You okay?” I asked, kneeling beside him.

He coughed again, sounding like he might just cough up a
lung. I patted him on his back, thinking surely that would help. That’s when he
winked at me.

“Is he okay?” one of the guys in black asked, approaching us.

“I think so. Must have swallowed the wrong way or something.
You okay, Mr. Rogers?”

He nodded but kept coughing, waving me off. I’d forgotten
what a good actor he was.

“Can I get him something?” the guy asked. “Maybe some water?”

He stood right in front of us now, his Brut cologne
overpowering us both. I wondered if Elvis bought the stuff by the case.

“No, I think we’ll be fine. But thank you.” I stood back and
flipped my hair over my shoulder with as much flair as I dared. “Are you . . .
are you visiting someone?” I hoped he didn’t hear the quake in my voice. “I’m one
of the hospital hostesses and we’re here to help, so if you, uh . . .
need some help or anything, I’d be happy to, uh . . . help.”

“That won’t be necessary. We know our way around, but thank
you.” He suddenly looked up and over my shoulder. “Hi, Marian. I was just
getting acquainted with your hostess here.” He looked back down at me. “I’m
sorry, what was your name?”

Marian Cocke. Had to be. Elvis’s nurse.
The girls had
told me about her. Something in the back of my mind uttered the term “mama
bear.” A shiver ran down my spine.

Time to go.

I quickly grabbed the handles of Donnie’s chair and aimed him
back down the hall in the direction we’d come. “Well, then. We’ll just be on
our way now.”

She stood like a soldier in the middle of the hall, her arms
folded across her chest. “And just where did you think you were going, Miss—”
Her eyes lowered to my name tag. “Colter? This section of the floor is off
limits.”

“Shelby? What are you doing up here?”

As luck would have it, Sarah Beth arrived just in time to
make matters worse. “Oh. Hey, Sarah Beth. I was just giving my patient here a
tour of the hospital and we, uh, well, I wasn’t paying attention and we got off
on the wrong floor. Apparently. My mistake. We’ll just be going now.”

Sarah Beth folded her arms, making her a matched set with
Nurse Cocke. “Does Mrs. Baker know you’re up here?” She tilted her head just so
and plastered a sarcastic smile on her lily white face.

“Of course not, Sarah Beth. I told you. I accidently got off
on the wrong floor. Now if you’ll excuse us?”

Donnie piped in with a pitiful cough, enough to convince Sarah
Beth to move her sass out of the way for us to get by.

As we approached the elevator, I blew out a heavy sigh—along
with a silent prayer apologizing for my little white lie.

“Seriously, Shelby, we should do this again sometime,” Donnie
said. “I’m told stress is really good for an ill-functioning heart.”

“I’m
so
sorry, Donnie.”

“Oh, don’t I know it. I intend to hold it over your head but
good.”

“I’m your slave.”

“Got that right. Now take me back to my room so I can write
in my memoirs how I almost had coffee with my
former
best friend and
almost met Elvis.”

“As you wish.”

“And Shelby?”

“Yes, your grace?”

“I’ll be wanting a pedicure tomorrow so bring your supplies.
Mr. Big Toe has a nasty green thing going on under his nail.”

Chapter 28

June came and went
as summer got off to a warmer than usual start. We’d all settled in to our new
responsibilities in the ER, ICU, and surgical waiting areas. It seemed strange,
our schedules all different now, sometimes not seeing each other for days at a
time. But Mrs. Baker seemed pleased with our added service to those areas of
the hospital, and the feedback from the staff in those departments had been
overwhelming.

I’d finally grown
comfortable with the idea of being “Tucker’s girl.” In fact, I rather loved it.
I was crazy about him. We spent every moment together we could, which wasn’t
always easy between his schedule and mine. Still, we found stolen moments
together whenever we could.

As the first
weekend of July approached, I even began looking forward to the singles camping
trip. The 4th actually fell on Monday, but tentative plans were to leave on
Friday after work and return after lunch on Sunday.

I was disappointed
Rachel wouldn’t be going with us. She was much too close to her due date and
couldn’t take the chance of being out in the woods in case little Cooper
decided to come early. Even though I’d looked forward to going, I hated to be
out of town if she went into labor. I was having second thoughts.

“Tucker, I’ll never
forgive myself if I’m not here for Rachel when her baby is born.”

“But Rich has my
pager number,” Tucker argued. “The minute we hear anything, off we go. Besides,
didn’t you just twist Sandra’s arm to go with us?”

“Yes, but what
does that have to do with it?”

“Because she’ll
bail if you do, and Trevor would be heartbroken.”

“Really?” Suddenly,
I found myself interested in going again.

“Okay, maybe
heartbroken is a little strong.”

“Tucker.”

“But seriously, he
did ask me if she was coming. I think he’s kinda interested.”

“Took him long
enough. Hold on—are you making this up just to convince me to go? Because if
you are, that’s really lame.”

“No! I’m not
making it up. He asked me who all was going, I told him, then he said, and I
quote, ‘Is Sandra coming with Shelby?’ See? He’s interested. He wouldn’t have
asked if he wasn’t.”

Tucker finally persuaded
me to go, promising he’d drive me back to Memphis if we got word that Rachel
had gone into labor. Rich had lined up plenty of sponsors to help with the
two-night trip so he could stay home with his bed-ridden wife.

Around 5:30 on
Friday evening, 30 of us loaded our gear, got on the old church bus, and headed
to Chickasaw State Park, about two hours east of Memphis. Trevor drove up later
along with a few others who didn’t get off work in time. Sandra and I were the
only hostesses who made the trip, and I realized that was probably a good thing.
A  nice break. I still didn’t know most of the girls and guys in the singles
group very well, but they seemed like a lot of fun.

The day had been
extremely warm, but out there in the wilderness the night was beautiful. We
unloaded and started setting up camp. The guys built an enormous bonfire to
help light our campsite. By the time the tents were up, we were all starving.
Rachel had organized a team of girls beforehand to plan the meals, and they
outdid themselves. I’m not sure why food always tastes better when you’re out
of doors, but everything they served was fantastic.

“Now, aren’t you
glad you came?” Tucker snatched a potato chip off my paper plate.

Trevor took a seat
on the ground next to Sandra. “You weren’t going to come?”

“Oh, well, I just
hated to be away in case Rachel goes into labor.”

“Nice cover,”
Tucker whispered in my ear.

Bobby snickered. “Now,
none of that, you two love birds. You don’t have to rub our noses in it.”

Very funny.
I wanted to deck one Killer B.

“Yeah, Bobby told
me your boyfriend there told him to back off since you’re ‘TAKEN.’”

Thank you,
Killer B #2.

Tucker kept a
straight face, pointing his plastic fork at the two goofballs. “And don’t you
forget it.”

Sandra and Trevor snorted
out loud at the exchange. He leaned against her shoulder almost knocking her
over. I liked how those two were getting along. They made a nice couple.

“Not you too, Dr.
Brainiac?” Bobby blurted, pointing at them. “Gosh, is there something in the
water at that hospital? Gotta get me some of that!”

He and Burt lost
it, laughing themselves silly over that one. Thankfully they turned their
attention to some of the new girls in the group, carrying on about some big
surprise they had planned.

After we ate, a
couple of guys brought out guitars and we had the traditional Kumbaya sing-along.
But I had to admit, with the roaring fire and the clear, star-covered sky, it
was really fun. Dr. Krause talked for a while about how blessed we all were to
live “at such a time as this” and how those blessings aren’t to be taken for
granted. He encouraged us to use the gifts God gave each one of us to share
those blessings with a lost world. George always made God’s word so up close
and personal. He had a unique way of explaining scripture, making you feel like
it was written just for you.

He closed with a
time of prayer, we sang a little more, then we had some free time to enjoy the
outdoors. The girls brought out the graham crackers, marshmallows, and
chocolate bars for the traditional cooking of the S’mores, my personal
favorite. Tucker made sure to burn my marshmallows, then smear the gooey mess
over my face as much as possible. You can take the doctor out of the hospital,
but you can never take the kid out of the doctor. Or something like that.

Later we said our
goodnights and headed into our tents. Earlier, Sandra and I had put our
sleeping bags in an enormous luxury tent with eight other girls. After the
mandatory final trek to the bathrooms, we all snuggled into our sleeping bags,
ready to call it a night.

At least most of
us did.

I realized Sandra
was nowhere to be found. Normally, I would have been concerned, but the last
time I saw her, she and Trevor were walking toward the lake. I smiled,
envisioning them sitting on a log, enjoying each others’ company as they gazed
out upon the moonlit waters of Lake Placid. She still hadn’t returned when I
fell sound asleep.

When the sun began
to rise, I awakened to the clatter of pots and pans and the distinct aroma of sizzling
bacon. I noticed several of the girls in my tent had already rolled up their
sleeping bags. I assumed they must be the ones out there cooking. I turned to
find Sandra sacked out, snoring quietly with her mouth slightly opened. I
nudged her with my foot.

“Hey, sleepyhead.
What time did you get to bed?”

Her eyes flitted
open, then she stretched into a vigorous yawn. “Huh? Oh . . .”
Her lips curled into a smile as she closed her eyes again. “Mmmm, wouldn’t you
like to know?”

“Probably not,
come to think of it.”

She stretched
again and rolled onto her side to face me. “I’m so glad you talked me into
coming.”

“Obviously,” I
smirked.

“Trevor . . .
I’ve never met anyone quite like him. He’s smart, he’s funny . . .
and oh my goodness, can that boy kiss!” she whispered.

“Shhh! Sandra? So
that’s what you guys were doing last night?”

“And if we were? We
were just having some fun, that’s all.”

“I’m just saying,
it’s kind of fast, don’t you think?”

“So?”

I stared at her
for a moment and decided to let it go. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the idea of
them together, it was just . . . well, I don’t know. It just
felt weird, out here, with all these singles around us. But Sandra was no fool.
She could certainly take care of herself.

“Hey, forget I
said anything. Let’s get cleaned up so we don’t miss breakfast.”

I thought dinner
was good, but breakfast was incredible. The girls had grilled up a mountain of
eggs and bacon then cleared the camping stove to cook what looked like a
hundred pancakes. They’d even warmed the syrup. I couldn’t believe how hungry I
was. Slowly, everyone wandered out of their tents and joined us. Tucker looked
ridiculous when he popped out of his tent, his dark hair sticking up like a
porcupine. He gave me a lopsided smile then sauntered off toward the showers, a
towel slung over his shoulder. He was back in five minutes looking squeaky
clean and wide awake, his wet hair still spikey.

“Whoa!” he said,
pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Anybody else take a cold shower this morning?”

Bobby snickered,
which of course made Burt crack up. I decided they were really just ten-year-olds
masquerading as adults.

“No, I didn’t mean
that
,” Tucker groaned. “I meant there’s no hot water. That’ll wake ya’
up and fast.”

A few minutes
later, he sat down beside me at the picnic table, his plate piled high with
pancakes.

“Hungry, Dr.
Thompson?” George asked.

“You betcha. I
could eat a horse about now.” He forked a huge bite of pancakes.

“Well, you’ll be
sorry to hear there’s no horsemeat on the menu today. Just hot dogs for lunch
and chili for dinner.”

“Yes, but what’s
in
the chili?” Tucker asked. “Therein lies the question.”

An hour later,
George led us in a morning devotional then encouraged us to go out into the
woods and find a quiet place for some personal prayer time. Tucker took my hand
and led me to a spot under some pine trees overlooking the lake. We sat quietly
at first, then he just started to pray. It seemed like the most natural thing
we’d ever done together. He talked to God as if the Almighty was sitting right
there with us. Which, I guess, He was. He thanked Him for the beauty
surrounding us, the fresh air, the scent of the pine needles beneath us . . .
and then he thanked God for me.

It startled me at
first. We’d never prayed together like this before, and I didn’t really know
what to expect. But I never thought he’d be so open, praying about me like
this—especially with me sitting right there.

“Lord, I’ve
already thanked You a thousand times for bringing Shelby back into my life. I
still can’t believe it, after all these years. Thank You for helping her see me
as more than that snot-nosed kid who once put worms in her tennis shoes—”

“Hey!” I
protested, elbowing him in the ribs. “That was you?”

“Shhh, Shelby,” he
whispered. “Can’t you see I’m praying here? And Lord, please forgive her
disrespect. She meant no harm.”

I elbowed him
again but said nothing.

“Thank You for
saving me, Lord. Not just for saving my soul, but saving me from the mistake I
almost made . . . for giving me a second chance. And for using
Shelby to open my eyes.”

I was glad his
eyes were actually closed at the moment as I felt a tear slip down my cheek. We’d
talked about it that night at the Peabody, but we hadn’t mentioned it since.
And certainly never in a prayer. I was speechless.

He pulled his hand
free and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer. “Thank You, for
this friendship You’ve given us. The sheer companionship of this relationship.
It’s such a blessing. Don’t let us ever take it for granted, Lord.”

He was silent for
a moment, but I knew there was more.

“And Father, right
here, right now, in this amazing expanse of your creation, I ask You to lead
us. Whatever You may or may not have in store for us, show us the way. Help me
be the friend Shelby needs me to be. Help her know how much she means to me . . .
already. . . still.
”

I wasn’t sure what
he meant by that, but I liked the sound of it.

“And God, I want
to commit our relationship to You in this quiet moment, and ask You to  guide
us each and every day to honor You with what You’ve given us. Thank You, even
now, for what You’re going to do. You are God, You are Abba Father, and we love
You.”

He took a deep
breath and let it out, then squeezed my shoulder. I knew he probably wanted me
to pray, but I couldn’t. Even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t have uttered a word.
After a few moments of silence, he said, “Amen.”

We sat there, neither
of us saying anything for at least ten minutes or so. Finally, he pulled me to
my feet and we took a walk around the banks of Lake Placid. Occasionally we’d
encounter some of the others in our group, but we tried not to disturb them.

I tried to figure
out this man who’d dropped into my life and so radically changed it. I still
had my reservations. I wanted to trust him completely. He’d given me no reason
not to. Still, I had this check in my spirit, holding me back. Scared. I
remembered my conversations about trust with Dr. Love. And as we walked around
that lake, I prayed silently that God would show me how to let go and love this
man the way he deserved to be loved.