Dream Angel : Heaven Waits by Patricia Garber

to give him privacy, a luxury he was denied in life. Besides, simply watching him as he read a series of six-foot plaques in front of the museum was a joy in itself. The way he stood, so erect, with hands behind his back and the fingers of his left hand clasped around his right wrist. He had air of sophistication, though he was uncommonly still. And because his broad shoulders blocked my view, I couldn’t see which section of the heartfelt sentiments, written in his honor, had captured his attention. I tried to envision the words from memory, but it had been too long between visits. And as time passed he brought his hands back to the front, and I smirked, envisioning him now fiddling with the ring finger of his left hand. It was a nervous habit, done without thought, but I found it endearing just the same.
    The tranquil sight of Elvis the angel, reading words left for Elvis the man, helped to further ease my nervous tension. And as I was beginning to consider if I shouldn’t just give up my watch, and go to him, he turned and headed back my way, towards the tiny shack. His blue eyes locked onto mine as he sauntered in a spellbinding strut that warmed me from head to toe despite a chilly morning.
    “Come sit with me,” he said, passing me to step up to his home.
    He took a seat on the small two-person porch swing that hung on the tiny veranda. He sat in typical Elvis style, knees set wide apart and his long legs stretched out across the deck. His broad smile was like that of a proud son returning home after a long time away.
    “Well, come on now. I can’t wait all day.” He patted the vacant seat next to him, insisting I join him on a bench swing that barely held two people.
    I looked to the “must-have-ticket” sign.
    “Ah, ignore that.”
    When I sat, he did not allow for any extra space between us. He merely lifted his arm and encircled my shoulders to bring me closer. Finally I was in his embrace, and my whole body seemed to sigh as I reclined against his sturdy chest, savoring the feel of his warm cheek against my own. This was what I required, what I needed, I thought as I closed my eyes to relish in the moment.
    “Comfy?” His breath tickled my ear.
    “M-m-m,” I purred while my blood warmed with ease as it always did when I was so close to this dreamy man.
    Slowly, he rocked us in the stillness of the morning. Of all my experiences in my young life, this moment could easily have been considered my best, my heaven on earth. Everything was perfect. We were alone. The birds were whistling a tune all around us, celebrating the sunshine that made the chill that much more bearable, and I felt safe.
    This was what I'd wanted back at Graceland . The thought came before I could stop it.
    “Are you telling me, Samantha Lynn, that after all your antics all you wanted from me was a hug?” His chest rumbled with a hearty chuckle as I let out a heavy sigh.
    “It would have been a good start,” I teased and felt Elvis’ lips brush my flushed cheek.
    “You do realize baby girl if we were to, uh,” he cleared his throat in my ear, “indulge in our human weaknesses, our situation would only become further complicated?”
    I was both distracted by his admission of having considered such desires while simultaneously puzzled over what exactly “our situation” was. I could not decide which mystified me more, why he came back or when he would leave. All I knew was his evitable departure felt like an anvil of doom hanging over my head. It swung ever so slowly, reminding me there were still so many words left unsaid between us. I’d escaped it once, but could I do it again?
    The last thing I wanted to hear was an angelic version of a Dear John speech spoken from his lips. I decided right then, if I had anything to say about it, I would avoid this “talk” my angel was so frantic to have back at Graceland.
    “Now Samantha, I want you to promise me, no more stunts.” Elvis’ voice suddenly turned serious.
    “What?