Wonder of You | Elvis Presley

Chapter 25

August 10th, 1958

JULIET HAD BEEN GOING OVER TO GRACELAND EVERYDAY TO KEEP ELVIS' PARENTS COMPANY EVER SINCE HE LEFT.

They were doing fine, for the most part. Except for Gladys...who seemed to be drinking ten times more than she had been before Elvis left for the army.

Juliet tried to keep her distracted, but it was hard when she herself was struggling with the absence of Elvis.

"Mr. Presley! Mrs. Presley!" The Tilden called as she walked in the beautiful house that was called Graceland, shutting the door behind herself. She plastered a smile on her face, walking into the kitchen and knowing that the Presley's would be there—or, at least, Vernon was.

"You know you can call us Vernon and Gladys, Juliet," said Vernon with a slight forced smile, taking a swing from a glass with brown liquid in it that looked vaguely like whiskey. Surprisingly, he was usually the most sober one out of him and Gladys.

"I know," Juliet plastered a grin onto her, placing her handbag onto the table. She walked over to the cupboard and began searching it for some food, "What are you in the mood to eat today, Vernon?"

"I've already got my lunch," said Mr. Presley, swishing his whiskey glass.

Juliet tutted, shaking her head. "That is not a substantial lunch. Where's Gladys?" Without waiting to hear his response, she exited the kitchen and made her way upstairs to Gladys and Vernon's bedroom.

She'd barely even reached the door when she heard loud sobs coming from inside the room. With wide eyes she swung open the door and rushed inside, her frown deepening when she spotted Gladys sat on the floor beside the bed; her face was stained with tears and she clutched a framed photo of Elvis

"Oh, Gladys," murmured Juliet upon seeing the woman. Mrs. Presley looked up at the sound of her voice, a new wave of tears hitting her.

"Juliet," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Oh, Juliet!" The Tilden sat next to the older woman as she sobbed, giving her a shoulder to cry on.

"What's the matter, Gladys?" Juliet questioned quietly after a moment, ignoring the fact that she smelled of liquor.

Gladys hesitated in answering, but eventually said, "It's Elvis. I'm worried he's not gonna come back."

"He will, Gladys," reassured the Tilden with a smile, knowing that she's worried the exact same thing a multitude of times. "Elvis is strong. He'll get through whatever is thrown at him just to get back to us."

"You really believe that?" sniffled Gladys, her clutch on the picture loosening.

"Of course I do."

"Well, then I believe it too."

It was then that Juliet noticed the slur in Gladys' voice and the glazed over look in her eyes. She knew there was a high chance that the Presley woman wouldn't remember their conversation at all.

"Let's get you into bed, Mrs. Presley," said Juliet softly, standing and holding out a hand to help Gladys up. The older woman stood with some difficulty, collapsing onto the bed with a sigh and immediately passing out.