Blue Like Elvis (28 page)

C
hapter 40

After leaving the
restaurant, we went straight to the hospital and were pleased to find both Mom
and Dad in Jimmy’s room. They were thrilled with our announcement and gladly welcomed
some good news after all that had happened. Jimmy seemed happy for us too,
though his was a more sarcastic response.

“After all we did
to you, Moonpie, you’re gonna
marry
him?”

We all laughed and
started reminiscing over some of the more memorably epic pranks the boys had
played on me.

“Just don’t tie
the knot before I get outta here,” Jimmy said. “I need time to plan the traditional
decorating of the get-away vehicle so you can leave in style.”

“I don’t even want
to know,” I groaned.

“No problem, Jimmy,”
Tucker added. “We can’t tie the knot until they let you go seeing as how you’re
my best man. If that’s okay with you.”

Jimmy’s eyes misted
and he struggled to find his voice before answering. “It’d be my honor, Tuck.”

Mom kept hugging
me and hugging Tucker amid a steady flow of tears. Thankfully, these were tears
of joy.

When I got home, Sandra
and I had our own squeal-fest when I told her my news. She kept sliding into
Spanish out of sheer excitement which only served to ramp up the celebration. I
decided then and there I must enroll in a Spanish course at MSU so I could keep
up with whatever in the world she was always saying at times like this. Once we
settled down, she made us each a cup of tea and wanted every detail.

“Don’t leave out
anything!” she insisted.

Tuesday morning
arrived much too early after such an unforgettable evening. As we drove in to
work, Sandra and I gabbed incessantly. Of course, we had to stop and turn up
the radio when Rick Dees started an Elvis segment. It seems the King reportedly
had a midnight visit to the dentist office for some kind of tooth ailment. Later
in the day he was leaving on tour to Portland, Maine and didn’t want to leave
with a sore tooth. Or something like that. It was always hard to tell what was
real and what was “The D’Man’s” antics when he got on a roll.

“If the King says
he gots a toothache, then he gots a toothache,” Dees said in his Sammy Soul voice,
his faux-Barry-White character.

“Nah, he just
likes the happy gas they give him before drilling,” Dee’s sidekick countered.

“Now, don’t you be
talkin’ ‘bout the King like ‘at. Me ‘n Elvis, we’re tight. Know what I mean?
And you know the Big E packs heat.”

“What’s that
supposed to mean?”

“It means, you be
nice when you be talkin’ bout my man, Elvis. And dat’s alls I got to say about
dat.”

“Well, sure thing,
Mr. Soul. I’m shaking in my boots here. See?”

“No, you be’s
shakin’ in dem’ blue suede shoes!”

Suddenly the voice
of Rick Dees resurfaced. “Twenty-five after eight ‘Dees morning’ on WHBQ
Memphis, with you on your way to work. And what’s a Tuesday without a little
Elvis?”

The introduction
to “I’m All Right, Baby” filled the car as we made our final turn into the BMH
employee parking lot.

Sandra immediately
started rambling about shopping for wedding gowns and bridesmaid dresses.

“Sandra, promise
me you’ll take it down a notch or two when we get to the office in light of all
that’s been going on,” I begged. “I just don’t want to waltz in there and be
obnoxious about Tucker’s proposal.”

She shot me a
look. “Are you out of your mind? This should be the happiest day of your life! Why
not spread a little joy? C’mon, don’t be such a kill-joy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine,
then. Just don’t get carried away. Promise?”

“I’ll make no such
promise.” She pulled into a parking spot, turned off the engine, and smacked
the steering wheel as if playing a set of bongos. “It’s just SO EXCITING!”

Needless to say,
she didn’t hold back anything once we got to the office. Then again, the girls
all knew how animated and noisy Sandra could be. I’m not going to lie and tell
you I didn’t love it, because I did. At breakfast I was bombarded with wedding
suggestions, tips on training husbands, and a random list of suggestions for
honeymoon destinations. I hadn’t had a split second to think about any of that,
but they seemed content to keep it coming.

As soon as I got
my gear together, I stopped by to see Jimmy. He was still sleeping, thanks to
the pain meds he was on, so Dad and I stepped out in the hall to talk. Mom had
stayed with him all night and was back at the hotel sleeping. Dad seemed upbeat
and encouraged about Jimmy’s progress. He said they’d had a long talk, and he
believed Jimmy was truly ready to get well. As we talked, Dad kept bear-hugging
me, saying over and over, “I can’t believe my little girl is getting married!”
I loved it. I told him I’d check back later then headed up to Nine.

I grew impatient
waiting for the elevator door to open on my floor. I couldn’t wait to tell
Donnie my news! I had called Tucker to see if he could come with me, but he was
down in the ER. There’d been an early morning pile-up on I-40, and he couldn’t
get away. Tucker had visited Donnie as often as he could and the two had struck
up a quirky friendship. I should have known they’d hit it off. They clearly
came from the same DNA, what with Donnie’s roach races back in the Taco Barn
days and young Tucker’s endless critter pranks of his own.

Still, I couldn’t
wait on Tucker. I had to share the good news with Donnie. I didn’t even check
in at the desk. I raced straight to his room.

“DONNIE, I’M
GETTING MARRIED!” I yelled as I banged open his door.

I froze.

The room was
empty. Two members of our housekeeping staff were sanitizing the room.

“What—”

No. Oh please
no . . .

I tried again. “Wh-where’s
Donnie?” The words fell out in whisper-croak.

The two women
looked at each other and shrugged. “We don’t know. You’ll have to ask at the
desk.

I pushed my fears
down hard as I ran to the nurses’ station. “Shirley, where’s Donnie?!” My voice
broke and I covered my mouth with my hand, so afraid what I might hear.

She came around
the counter and grabbed my hand. “Shelby, he’s okay. He got the call!”

“What call?”

“They have a heart
for him! They air-lifted him out this morning at 7:45 to catch a private jet.
It all happened really fast, honey.”

“But he’s okay? He
can handle the surgery? He was so weak, Shirley. I’ve been so worried about
him.”

She put her arm
around my waist. “I know, but he’s going to be fine. We just need to pray his
body accepts that heart.”

“I just can’t
believe it. After all this time. Wait—where did they take him? To Columbia?”

“Yes, to Columbia
University Medical Center in New York. Oh! I almost forgot—he left you a note.”
She reached over the desk for an envelope and handed it to me. “He kept saying
over and over, ‘Don’t forget to tell Shelby!’ As if we would?” She shook her
head. “Oh, we’re going to miss that young man
so
much. He’s been here so
long, he’s like family. And we all loved spending time in there with him. Such
a cut up, that one.”

“Major
understatement. So there’s no way I can call and talk to him until after his surgery?”

“Oh, goodness no. They’re
in a race against time to get that heart in him.”

I hugged and
thanked her, then headed to the prayer room around the corner so I could read
his note. I took a seat and gently opened the envelope. I smiled, imagining the
expression on his face as he’d written his note on BMH stationary. I carefully
opened the folded note and began to read.

Dear Shelby,

I
can’t believe I’m leaving without saying good-bye to you. (Let’s just hope that’s
in the temporary sense as opposed to the permanent. Ha ha.) I wonder if my
donor was in a wreck? They probably scooped up some poor man’s heart off the
pavement and shoved it in an Igloo cooler for me. Sweet, huh? I just hope he
liked Mexican food and Krispy Kremes. If not, I may demand a replacement.

I’m
not afraid. Really. So don’t worry about me. I’m ready to go home. Whether that’s
Tallahassee or the great beyond.

You’ve
been the best friend in the world to me. You lifted my spirits every time you
walked in my door, Shelby. I’m so glad we’ve had these months together. Lousy
excuse to do it, but there it is.

So,
off I go. Promise you’ll come see me soon.

Love
you,

Donnie

p.s.  And if you
wanted to say a prayer or two, that’d probably be okay.

Just this once. ♥D

I fought the
tears—again. It was all such of mix of happy/sad, I didn’t have a clue what to
do. I slid down on my knees and begged God to get Donnie to the hospital in New
York in time and for the surgery to be a success.

The alternative?
Unthinkable.

After my mind and
heart came to terms with it all, I ducked in the restroom to freshen myself after
this latest tear-fest, then kept myself busy the rest of the morning with
patient visits. I purposefully left Mr. Wilcox for last, not sure I was up to
anymore angst this morning. He seemed slightly better after receiving the
treatment and medications he needed. His color was much better and he seemed
more like himself, though still weak.

 I noticed an
oversized book over on the wall-to-wall window sill. “What’s this?” I asked,
making my way around his bed. The title read
My Life on the Line.
I had
to bite back the irony of those words, but it was obviously a scrapbook of his
career as a railroad engineer. And I knew immediately how to cheer Mr. Wilcox
up.

I pulled up a
chair close to his bed and took a seat. “I’m all done with my visits this
morning, Mr. Wilcox. Any chance I could twist your arm into telling me all
about your book here?”

Cheapest,
fastest-working meds on the planet if that smile is any indication
. An hour
and a half later, he was the happiest camper on the floor, and I’d never felt
so gratified.

When I went back
downstairs for lunch, I stopped by the office first and noticed Mrs. B had put
a sign on our note board:

HOSTESS
MEETING AT 2:00 P.M.

CONFERENCE
ROOM B

ATTENDANCE
MANDATORY

Our boss had been
subdued for weeks and hadn’t interacted more than necessary with any of us for
some time. Curiosity took away my appetite, but I forced down a few bites. In
the cafeteria, the girls and I had a horrible feeling this meeting wasn’t about
an office picnic.

We were right.

“Thank you for
coming, ladies,” she began, after we all arrived. “I have some rather
unfortunate news to tell you, but it’s not really going to be much of a
surprise, I’m afraid.”

The tuna in the
salad I had just eaten did a triple spin off the high dive.

“Today is your
official two week notice of dismissal.”

A collective groan
filled the room.

“Our program will
cease to exist in two weeks. You will each receive a severance check in your
final paycheck. And I would be most happy to write a letter of recommendation
for you as you pursue other employment.”

She took off her
glasses and gently wiped the outer edges of her eyes with a handkerchief. “I
suppose it was inevitable, as the economy has continued on a downslide. Even a
grand hospital such as ours must cut corners in times like these.”

The side door
opened and in walked Dr. Grieve, our president. We all sat a little straighter
as he entered, all of us trying to maintain our composure.

“Ladies, Dr.
Grieve would like to say a few words to you.” Mrs. Baker motioned for him to go
ahead as she stepped back against the wall.

“Ladies, no one is
more disappointed than I am at the news Virginia has just shared with you. As
you are all aware, the hostess program was one of my proudest achievements
during my tenure here at Baptist. You have been the welcoming face to all our
patients, offering them an extra portion of kindness and service during their
stay. I was never so proud as the first time your predecessors made their
rounds making our hospital ‘more hospitable,’ if you will, by offering a
smiling face, a cheerful message of service, and a willingness to do those
little things that told our patients we wanted to make their stay as pleasant
as possible.

“I was proud then,
and I’m proud today. I’m proud of each and every one of you and all your
accomplishments. And that’s why it’s especially hard for me to have to close
down something I feel so strongly about. But these are difficult days in our
hospital, our city, and our country. We’ve had to make some painful decisions,
not the least of which—at least for me—is the one that concerns each of you.

“As you know, I’m
stepping down soon to begin my retirement. I’ve had a wonderful life,
especially while here at the helm of this great institution. But it’s time for
me to move on and spend as much time as God sees fit to give me with my wife,
my children, and my grandchildren. Most of you, on the other hand, are at the
beginning of your careers. And this is not the way I’d hoped to see you leave
us. That said, I trust God will help each and every one of you find the job He
has for you. A job that will take you closer to your dreams, whatever they may
be. Who knows but what a future nurse or doctor or chaplain or hospital
administrator is sitting in this room. Perhaps your time here at Baptist has
sparked an interest in such a career. I’d like nothing more.

“And so I bid you
farewell, with my utmost thanks. Thank you for your service here at Baptist,
thank you for the way you made me so proud, and thank you for the blessing you’ve
been to each and every patient you visited.” He paused, held his fist to his
mouth, then seemed to clear his throat. He blinked away tears, held up his
hand, and with a graveled voice said, “God bless you.”