Elvis and Ginger: Elvis Presley's Fiancée and Last Love Finally Tells Her Story Read Online Free PDF

resurfaced. I grew increasingly anxious, wondering, “What if Elvis really doesn’t want Rosemary and me here?”
    I hung back, letting Rosemary and Terry wait at the door. When it opened, George Klein greeted us, which surprised me. Naive as this may seem, because this was Elvis’s house, I expected him to answer the door.
    George was the same age as Elvis, forty-one, and a friendly guy with black hair. It had been his
Talent Party
show that I once briefly modeled on. I didn’t say anything about this, because I didn’t think he would remember.
    He introduced himself and then beckoned for us to follow him. Feeling like Alice stepping through the looking glass, I took a deep breath and entered Graceland for the first time.
    My feet sank into thick, red shag carpet, which extended into the foyer and up a staircase with a gold-and-white banister and railings. George invited us into the dining room. Passing beneath an enormous, ornate crystal chandelier, I glanced to the right and saw a room decorated all in red with French provincial furniture. Peacock stained-glass windows were on either side of the entrance to a music room dominated by a black baby grand piano. Many people have referred to this red décor as gaudy and it would eventually be changed. But, gaudy or not, it impressed me at the time, and it’s still one of my most lasting memories of Graceland.
    To my left, I heard voices. I turned and saw some people seated in red, silver-studded, high-backed chairs around a mirrored dining table. Cigar smoke curled into the air as we approached. Staring at the chair at the end of the table, its back facing us, I excitedly thought,
This has to be Elvis!
and slowed my steps, almost holding my breath.
    I was wrong. George introduced the chair’s occupant as GeeGee Gambill. His wife, Elvis’s cousin Patsy Presley, was there, too, along with another cousin, Billy Smith, and Billy’s wife, Jo. They were playing cards, the men smoking cigars, all of them casually dressed in jeans and T-shirts or blouses.
    Everyone greeted us cordially. I couldn’t tell by their reaction whether they had been expecting us or knew who we were, but I did get the sense that they were sizing us up as they gave us quick, up-and-down appraising looks. The three of us had dressed nicely to meet Elvis, but hadn’t put a lot of thought into overly trying to impress anyone.
    George then led us through the kitchen. Its floor was covered in wall-to-wall carpet in a multicolor patchwork design. I had never seen carpeting in a kitchen, but this was Elvis’s home, so I figured there would be much I had never seen before. The room looked warm, with dark brown cabinets and stained-glass lamps hanging from the ceiling. The kitchen had a breakfast nook and opened into a den.
    “This is the Jungle Room,” George announced, gesturing around the den as he paused to answer a green phone buzzing on a nearby table. As I watched George listen to someone on the phone, I heard laughter echoing from the dining room and it struck me how comfortable everyone was in Elvis’s home.
    I began to relax a little and gazed around the room. The Jungle Room was far from your typical den. I noticed water trickling down the face of a stone-covered back wall, and the furniture featured carved animal heads and engravings.
    George hung up the phone. “Can you please wait right here?” he asked. “Elvis isn’t ready yet. He’s practicing karate.” Then he walked away, leaving the three of us alone in the room.
    It seemed a little odd that Elvis would invite us here at a certain time and not be ready. Still, I wasn’t complaining. I was excited just to be seeing inside Graceland.
    I sat on a faux-fur chair with wooden arms carved to look like Asian dragon heads. Rosemary and Terry chose a matching couch. In front of it was a huge coffee table made of lacquered wood. Statues of jungle animals were placed randomly about the room; a large mirror framed with feathers was hanging on