Free Elvis Takes a Back Seat by Leanna Ellis

get settled. I reserved us a suite, so we’ll be together.” A room togetherseemed the safest solution with a minor. But a suite will give us more room and some privacy.
    â€œSounds good,” he says. “How’s she doing?”
    â€œOkay.” I shift my gaze to Rae, remembering her concerns. I wonder if she’d tell Ben. But now isn’t the time. No need to worry Ivy’s dad when I have no facts, no way of knowing anything delinquent about his daughter yet. “We’re all kind of tired from being in the car all day.”
    â€œWhat took you so long? You didn’t have car trouble, did you?”
    â€œOh, no. We, uh …” I glance at Ivy in the rearview mirror as she digs through her backpack. “We just made more stops than we anticipated.”
    â€œShe’s not being a pain, is she?”
    Red brake lights flash in front of me, and I touch my foot to the brakes. After a moment the long line of cars moving along the highway slowly picks up its pace again.
    â€œNo, not at all.” Ivy is respectful. Just quiet. Yet I also know, or suspect, something is wrong. But I can’t say so in front of Ivy, or even over the phone.
    â€œYou’d tell me, right?”
    â€œOf course.” When I have something to tell. Until then …
    â€œTake the next exit,” Rae says.
    â€œWe’re almost there,” I tell Ben on the phone.
    â€œOkay, call me later.”
    â€œYou should have come with us,” I say.
    â€œNah. Somebody has to hold down the fort.”
    â€œOkay, Dad,” I tease with a wry smile, as I know he’s going to worry about all of us until we arrive safely home. “I’ll keep you posted.”
    â€œHere,” Rae says, pointing to Elvis Presley Boulevard. “This is it.”
    â€œOkay.” I fumble with the steering wheel and the phone, letting it drop into my lap and yell, “Bye!” as I signal and take the exit. “Imagine having your own street named after you.” In the rearview mirror, I catch Ivy’s eyes rolling upward. I consider keeping a count of that particular expression. I bet we can break one hundred before the end of the trip. “I wonder what it must have been like for Elvis.”
    â€œConfining,” Rae says, folding the map.
    â€œLet’s get checked in, then we’ll find some dinner.” I turn right on Lonely Street and then veer left into the Heartbreak Hotel parking lot.
    * * *
    â€œSEE SEE RIDER” blares out of the hotel’s sound system and can be heard throughout the parking lot as we unload our suitcases. Temporarily, we leave Elvis in the back seat.
    In the lobby a small old-style television shows Elvis boxing in Kid Galahad . The hotel boasts Elvis movies twenty-four hours a day. Already I’m getting weary of the King.
    The Heartbreak Hotel is as worn and weary looking as I am after a long day of travel. We pass the cherry-red couch and purple chairs to check in at the desk. Then we head up to our rooms and settle in.
    The suite is large and roomy, and we each go to our separate rooms to unpack. I lay on the bed for a minute, stretch my back, and wish I were home. A rumbling in my stomach gets me back on my feet.
    I knock on Ivy’s door.
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œIt’s me.” I open the door a crack. “Are you ready?”
    She sits up on the bed, her suitcase open, her backpack slung over the chair in the corner.
    â€œAre you hungry?” After checking into the hotel and unloading our luggage, we all took a few minutes to freshen up for dinner.
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œBut we haven’t eaten since our late lunch. Come on.”
    â€œI’m tired.” She has dark circles under her eyes. Or is it remnants of mascara?
    â€œWe could order room service—”
    â€œGo to dinner. I’ll be fine here.”
    â€œWe might need your help.” I try to figure out a way to get Ivy to come with us