Country (13 page)

The morning after their late-night studio session, Chase called Stephanie at ten a.m. about the “surprise” he had mentioned the night before. He didn't explain what it was but told her to be ready to leave at eleven, and he wouldn't give her even a hint of what was in store. She couldn't even guess and had no idea what to expect.

“What should I wear?” She sounded perplexed.

“Oh…let's see…how about a ballgown? I'd love to see you in a sexy evening dress.” And then he chuckled. “Just kidding. Wear whatever you want, shorts, jeans, something comfortable.”

“Running shoes? Hiking boots?”

“Anything goes. Barefoot if you like.” In the end, she put on white denim shorts and a pink T-shirt, and wore her sandals, and she was in the lobby right on time. He pulled up in the Corvette, and as soon as she noticed the stir it was causing, she ran outside. There was already a crowd gathering around the car, when people realized it was Chase Taylor. She slipped between the fans, opened the door, and hopped into the car, and Chase waved at the onlookers as they sped off.

“Sorry. I came out as fast as I could, before one of the fans got into the car instead of me.”

He laughed. He was used to it. But she wasn't yet, and people were even more aware of him here than they had been in Las Vegas. He was a huge star here and exactly why people came to Nashville, to see country music celebrities like him, and he was one of the biggest. It still amazed her that she was riding around Nashville in the Corvette with a big country music star. To her, now he was just Chase.

He drove onto the highway, heading in the direction of the airport, and pointed out Opryland to her a little while later, where everything had started, and she wondered where they were going as they drove by it. He took a turn right before the airport and pulled up in front of a hangar, where a small private jet was waiting. It was a Falcon, and the pilot, copilot, and stewardess were waiting outside expectantly, and smiled when they drove up, and Chase stopped the car and turned off the engine as Stephanie looked at him.

“We're flying somewhere?” She was surprised.

“Yes, we are. It's a long drive but a short flight from here, and it's something you have to see. An important piece of Tennessee folklore and history, but not exactly the Grand Canyon.” The look in his eyes said he was teasing her as they boarded the plane. Even more than on his bus, she was in awe of the sheer luxury of the plane, and the fact that he had chartered it just for her. It was above and beyond anything she could have imagined, or would expect anyone to do for her. She didn't have the remotest idea where they were going.

It was noon when they took off, having avoided all the chaos of the airport and security. They just drove up, parked, and boarded the plane. The stewardess offered her coffee, tea, soft drinks, or champagne, and Stephanie had just finished a cup of coffee with croissants while chatting with Chase, when the pilot radioed to the tower in Memphis that they were coming in for a landing. They were assigned a runway after circling for five minutes. Stephanie looked out the window and still couldn't guess why they had come here as they made a smooth landing, and taxied up to a private hangar similar to the one they had departed from in Nashville. An SUV with a driver was waiting for them.

“Come on, Chase, where are we going?” She was dying to know, as they got into the car and the driver took off.

“You'll see,” Chase said mysteriously, thoroughly enjoying the secret. Stephanie had absolutely no way of guessing what he had in mind.

It was a short drive from the airport, and only when they turned down Elvis Presley Boulevard did Stephanie begin to suspect. They stopped in front of a large home with tall white columns that she had already noticed were typical of many fine homes in the south. Two white lions sat on brick pedestals out front, and the sign that said “Graceland” finally told her where she was. He had brought her to the famed home of Elvis Presley in Memphis, for the tour that was a must. She turned to Chase with a broad grin the moment she read the sign.

“You are so funny to do this. I never even thought of it!” She was delighted and intrigued to be there.

“You have to see it. I'd have driven you, but it's a three-and-a-half-hour drive, and we just didn't have time. So I thought we'd come by plane.” She knew he had spent a fortune to get her there, and had been incredibly generous and thoughtful to think of it.

They took an audio tour of the downstairs, which included commentary by his daughter Lisa Marie, and sound clips of Elvis himself.

The upstairs was closed to the public, and Chase told her that he had heard they kept it private in deference to the family, although no one lived there anymore, and they didn't want fans gawking at the bathroom on the second floor where Elvis had died. So they were confined to the ground floor, where they saw Elvis's living room, music room, parents' bedroom, dining room, and kitchen, and on a floor below it, his TV/media room, pool room, and the famed Jungle Room.

The dominant color, particularly in his parents' bedroom, was white, with a deep purple velvet bedspread, and his mother's closet had been sealed with glass to show off some of her clothes. Elvis's bedroom, on the closed second floor, was not on the tour. But in his TV room, they saw the three televisions he used to watch at the same time. His bar and billiards room were on display. The staircase to the upper floor was white with mirrors, and there were stained-glass panels of brightly colored peacocks. Parts of the house were gaudy, as Stephanie would have expected, and she was reminded on the tour that he had bought the house at twenty-two years of age.

After the main house, they visited the museum and trophy building, with his vast collection of gold and platinum records, his wedding tuxedo, and Priscilla's wedding dress. They quickly saw his father's office, and Elvis's shooting range and racquetball building, which had become home to some of his most extraordinary costumes, sequined and gold jumpsuits, and a stunning array of the outfits he was remembered for having performed in. It was an amazing collection of his clothes.

They saw thirty-three of his vehicles, including his famed pink Cadillac, a 1975 Ferrari, a 1956 Cadillac Eldorado convertible, a red MG, several Stutz Blackhawks, Harley-Davidson motorcycles, and more. And they finished the tour in the Meditation Garden where Elvis was buried, near his parents and grandmother, and from there, Chase and Stephanie walked back onto the street. It had been fascinating and a piece of folklore that Stephanie wouldn't have wanted to miss. It was an odd experience going there, and some of it was a tribute to bad taste, but it was the symbol of an era, and a personal view of a man who had made huge contributions to American popular culture and had been revered by generations. She was thrilled that they had come, and grateful to Chase for bringing her, and taking the time from his busy life to do so.

“I loved it,” she said quietly to Chase as they walked back to the car. As always when visiting someone's home, once they were gone, one felt slightly in awe of moving in what had once been their footsteps and glimpsing their private lives, and yet Elvis and the family had wanted people to be there, keeping his memory alive. “Thank you for bringing me,” she said as they drove back to the airport. And half an hour later they were back on the plane and in the air heading toward Nashville, where she got another glimpse of the Mississippi River. They ate sandwiches on the plane and were back at Chase's home in Brentwood by four-thirty. Chase had to do some more work in his office, so she lay next to the pool, and she thought about what they'd seen that day and since she arrived. Her favorite so far had been Andrew Jackson's home, The Hermitage, but she agreed with Chase that Graceland was a must. And it had been an ideal way to see it. Chase was doing so much to make her comfortable and happy, show her his city, and do everything possible to make her feel welcome and at home. Chase was a remarkable man.

He joined her at the pool at six o'clock, just before the band arrived. They had a quick dinner in the kitchen, and by seven they were back at work in the studio, changing arrangements and recording Sandy's voice, and then Chase's, as he sang two new songs. He still wasn't happy with the mix, and they made several corrections that night. He was a perfectionist about every detail, and Stephanie had new respect and insight into what it took to record an album. They finished that night at two o'clock in the morning, and he drove her back to the hotel again. He looked tired, after another long day, partially because of her, since he had spent most of the day taking her to Graceland. She thanked him for it again when she got out of the car, and told him he didn't have to get out.

“I've got a lot of paperwork to do tomorrow, and some writing on that last song. I'm not happy with the lyrics. But you're welcome to spend the day at the house with me. You can lie by the pool while I work.”

“I don't want to intrude,” she said politely, hesitant to bother him while he worked.

“You're not. I love having you around.” He smiled the smile that women swooned over. “Bring your bathing suit. We'll take it easy. I'll cook you dinner tomorrow night. I gave the boys the night off.” It sounded very appealing, and she agreed. “Just come on over whenever you wake up. Call Wanda, she'll pick you up.” Stephanie had her own car, but Chase wanted her driven. She promised to call his assistant, and went back to her hotel room after an amazing day. Everything about Nashville was fantastic so far, especially Chase.

She took him at his word and called Wanda the next day, who showed up in the vintage red Chevrolet truck at noon and drove her out to the house, offered her something to drink, and then disappeared discreetly. Stephanie changed into her bathing suit in a changing room and lay on a chaise longue next to the pool with some magazines and a book. Chase wandered out of the house at three o'clock. He looked relaxed in bare feet, a white T-shirt, and torn jeans, and sat down on the chair next to hers. She had been dozing in the sun after a swim. It was a hot day, and the iced tea that Wanda had given her was still sitting next to her.

“Hi.” She smiled at him lazily. He had some sheet music in his arms, and a stack of printed e-mails and notes. “How's your work going?”

“Okay. I'm still stuck on those damn lyrics, but I got a lot done today. Sometimes you just have to sit there and do it.” But it was a nice way to work, at home, in a house as beautiful as his. Stephanie felt peaceful being there, and had enjoyed the silence all afternoon. He lay down in the chair next to her then and began scribbling some notes, and then turned to her with a look of frustration, and handed her the piece of paper he'd been writing on. “What would you add to that? I need two more lines for the refrain. I'm no writer, I'm a musician. I hate having to do both.”

She closed her eyes and thought about it for a long moment, then took the pencil from him and scribbled something, and handed it back to him.

“I'm no writer either. How does that sound?” She looked hesitant. He read it, nodded, and looked at her with a broad grin.

“You're better than you think. That's good. Very good. It works.” He sang it a capella with the rest of the refrain, and it sounded good to her too. “You got the beat just right. It's all about the beat—you can't have an extra syllable hanging out there. And I like the words. You're hired,” he said, as he set the paper down, pulled off his T-shirt, took off his jeans with a swimsuit under them, and dove into the pool. He had a long lean athletic body, and he surfaced at the other end after swimming the length of the pool, and then swam back to her. “I like it when you're here, Stevie. This is nice. I don't feel like I have to entertain you, but I like knowing you're around somewhere. You're easy to be with. And you write good lyrics.” He grinned at her.

“Thank you. I like being here too.” They sat side by side at the pool, each of them reading after that until the end of the afternoon. Wanda called out to him from the house when she left for the day, and it was pleasant knowing that he didn't have to work in the studio that night and could do things at his own pace and relax.

They sat at the pool until almost seven o'clock, and then he asked her if she was hungry. He had promised to cook dinner for her, and they went to look at what was in the fridge. He had a daily housekeeper who took care of the house and shopped for groceries for him, but he didn't like having staff there at night, unless he was working and needed help serving food.

They decided on steaks and a big salad, and he had just started heating the grill when they saw Bobby Joe walk through the garden to the little gingerbread house at the other end, where Sandy lived. She had a separate entrance, but Bobby Joe knew the code and often came through the main gate.

“That damn kid. I keep telling him to go the other way and he never does.” They saw him with Sandy a few minutes later, and she waved. Stephanie went outside to call across the garden to her, and she could see that Bobby Joe was scowling and looking unhappy about something, but Sandy looked happy, blew Stevie a kiss, waved goodbye, and then went behind her house to get her car.

“Bobby Joe's not looking too happy,” Stephanie commented while he cooked their steaks.

“He never does. I keep telling Sandy, he's jealous of her. She's going to go a long, long way and be a big star, and he knows it, and he's not. He's good enough, but he doesn't have what it takes. He'll always try to make her feel bad for that. It'll never work. He'll just keep grinding at her, and bitching and sulking, and punishing her, until she gets tired of it. She'll figure it out. He's not a bad kid, just kind of mediocre and a jerk. She can do better than that. She needs someone who's proud of her and makes her feel good about herself. That's what we all need,” he said, smiling at Stephanie as she finished tossing the salad, and he put their steaks on two plates.