Elvis and Ginger: Elvis Presley's Fiancée and Last Love Finally Tells Her Story (24 page)

The other woman had told them she purposely got sunburned the first day so Lamar wouldn’t touch her. She also had a pack of gum with her, and said she was constantly telling Lamar that she was going out for gum so she didn’t have to be in the same room with him. Terry and I got tickled as we realized that, for us, being sunburned was painful, but for Lamar’s date, it was apparently a relief.

•   •   •

While others dined out, my sisters and I ate in the suite with Elvis. After dinner, some members of the group came in to visit and later Elvis mentioned something about mai tais. This surprised me. Except for Charlie enjoying a cocktail, and a bottle of vodka I’d noticed once partially sticking out of a backpack Ricky carried on tour, I had yet to see Elvis or others around him drink.

When my sisters and I told Elvis we’d never had mai tais, he asked one of the guys to order some sent up to the suite. My sisters and I each had one, but Elvis drank three. Not long afterward he began marching in place. We all started laughing, especially when Elvis stood up on the couch and started walking back and forth across the cushions.

His face soon flushed red, though, and Elvis quickly sat down, telling us he shouldn’t really drink because he had high blood pressure and was taking pills for it. I was glad he told us. I’d had no idea.

Later on, Elvis called for a jeweler to come up again. This time he picked out puka shell necklaces for everyone, including himself. Kindly thinking of my mother, Elvis purchased one for her, too.

He also made the decision that night to rent a beach house so he could have some privacy. I was glad, feeling that now he’d be able to go outside and have fun with the rest of us.

Well into the early morning hours, my sisters and I were alone with Elvis. He was still in a jovial mood and brought up rats again. He was having fun, talking loudly and every so often shouting out something to do with rats. I loved cutting up with him, seeing him act like a big kid and having such a good time with my sisters. I was happy that Elvis seemed to have left his cares behind on the mainland.

Before going to sleep that morning, Elvis told me that, if I wanted to look around in the hotel shops downstairs later, I should, because we would be leaving that afternoon to view some houses.

When Elvis and I woke, I asked my sisters if they wanted to accompany me. Terry was still in pain from her sunburn so she opted to stay in her room, but Rosemary said she would go.

The two of us browsed through the stores downstairs for a while. When we returned, Terry met us in the living room and told us that Elvis had knocked on her door and come into her room. He had wanted yogurt and handed her his list with the entourage’s room numbers, asking her to call someone to get him some.

She had gone into the living room and started calling. No one was answering in any room, and Elvis began getting irritated as she went through the complete list.

“None of them checked to see if I needed anything,” Elvis had told her angrily. “These aren’t friends here.”

Wanting to help him, Terry had gone out into the hall and spoken with a guard stationed by the elevators, requesting yogurt for Elvis. It was soon brought up to the room.

Luckily, Elvis was in a better mood by the time I saw him, but I was sure he would have some hard words to say to a select few—if he hadn’t already.

•   •   •

To look at beach houses, Elvis got dressed in a light blue jogging suit, a navy nylon jacket, a pair of sneakers, and a terry-cloth hat. It was different to see him dressed like this. Jeans were popular, but I had yet to see Elvis wear any. Now I asked him why.

“Because I had to when I was little,” he replied. I suspected wearing jeans reminded Elvis of a time in his youth when his family had little money and that was all they could afford.

I gathered a few of my things and left the hotel with Elvis, my sisters, and a few of the others. It was a half hour ride to the other side of the island. From the windows of the limousine, I drank in the lush green countryside. The beauty of the island was beyond amazing.

We arrived at a private home and walked through it with a local liaison. In one room was a large window with a bizarre feature: When you pushed a button nearby, it looked like it was raining outside.

Elvis sat on a couch, relaxing for a moment and contemplating the house. Joe Esposito had come along with us. He had a camera with him and began taking pictures of Elvis.

Rosemary had taken a seat on the floor nearby and was paying attention to some others who were chatting. Suddenly, I noticed Elvis cut his eyes over at her. Rosemary looked back at him, smiled, then turned her attention elsewhere.

A big grin spread across his face as he continued to watch her. Shortly, he stood up and, as he walked past her, he suddenly turned and pounced. Rosemary fell backward with Elvis on top of her.

Someone snapped a picture of their spontaneous tussle while we all laughed. Then Elvis stood up and helped Rosemary to her feet.

Elvis decided he didn’t care for this first house, so we went to see another.

The second home was close to the beach and had access to a neighbor’s nearby pool. Elvis liked it and immediately decided this was where we would stay. He put my sisters in a bedroom close to ours, and placed Billy and Jo Smith in a room at the end of the hall. Dr. Nichopoulos would be in a room on the other side of the home and, as usual, Elvis wanted an aide or two staying at the house also. The remainder of the group would stay at the hotel.

Before long, the rest of the group arrived at the house and Elvis decided he wanted to go to the beach. It was so warm out, we found some scissors and cut off the long sleeves to the jacket of his jogging suit. I assumed someone would be going back to the hotel to bring our suitcases. Meanwhile, a group of us walked with Elvis down to the water, where he and I sat on some small foam boards on the sand.

A few people took a dip in the ocean, but Elvis and I remained on the beach, peacefully enjoying the serene view and watching the others swim. It felt wonderful to relax with him out in the sunshine.

Before long, Joe pulled out his camera again and began taking more pictures. Beach mats were soon brought down to us and we rolled them open to have more room to sit or lie down. I had a Polaroid camera with me; out of respect for Elvis’s privacy, I had yet to take any photos of him. However, now that I saw Joe snap away, I decided to snap a couple of shots, too.

A few others began shooting photographs as well. Elvis sat with various people, joking and cutting up for photo ops. A short time later, Rosemary told me that when she’d been sitting beside Elvis, he had confessed to wishing only Polaroids were being taken. The problem with film being developed, he explained, was that the person doing it could then decide to sell the photographs. This was another reminder that his celebrity had sometimes taken away some of his enjoyment from ordinary activities that the rest of us take for granted.

Elvis and I finally fell asleep near dawn. When I woke that afternoon, Terry told me that when she and Rosemary first opened their bedroom door, they had seen a huge hunk of cheese sitting on the floor in their doorway. I laughed, pleased that all of our joking about rats seemed to have left quite an impression on Elvis! Someone had gone out earlier and bought some tops for Elvis to wear, but they were short-sleeved cotton sweatshirts. It was so warm out that I took some scissors and cut the neck out of one, making it larger so he could get it over his head more easily, and hoping the more open neckline would let more air in for him and keep him cooler.

I didn’t know if Elvis had any shorts or a swimsuit with him, since he chose to wear a pair of lightweight pants, but I decided to look for some shirts that were made of a lighter material for him. He arranged for someone to take my sisters and me shopping and we browsed around at some nearby stores. I purchased a few shirts I hoped he would like.

When we returned, I found out that Elvis and some of the guys in the group had played touch football while we were gone. I hated missing the chance to see them play, but I could tell it had gotten rough at times, because Elvis’s cousin, Billy, had a swollen knee.

I was standing in the kitchen a bit later when Joe’s girlfriend, Shirley, came in. I hadn’t spoken much with her since our shopping venture in Las Vegas, but we were always cordial whenever we saw each other. As we talked, Shirley said she’d had lunch with Priscilla Presley not long ago, and that Priscilla had asked her if Elvis and I were engaged. This surprised me; I hadn’t known she was close friends with Priscilla.

“What did you tell her?” I asked.

“I told her, ‘Well, she has an engagement ring,’” Shirley said.

I knew the news of our engagement must have circulated throughout the entire group by now, but I suddenly realized that I had no memory of ever being congratulated by Shirley, Joe, Dr. Nichopoulos, Lamar, or a few others who regularly surrounded Elvis. This certainly was strange and inexplicable.

“Have you set a wedding date?” Shirley asked.

“No.”

“You should mention marriage to Elvis, to push him a little,” she said. “You should bring it up more.”

I didn’t like this idea. I remembered Elvis once telling me that he thought when it came to marriage, it was the man’s place to ask, and Elvis had already told me a few times that God would come through and tell him when the time was right. I wanted him to be sure. A red flag went up. Was Shirley trying to help me or hurt me?

“Shirley, I don’t want to do that,” I said, feeling awkward. We dropped the subject and I left the kitchen a few minutes later. Unfortunately, now when it came to Shirley, I felt my guard had to be up.

•   •   •

Elvis had started rising a little earlier during the day and was spending more time in the fresh air. However, he still often wanted me to read with him inside, and when he did go out, he didn’t hang around by the pool for very long and he never seemed to want to go swimming.

With so many other people around and the strong possibility of some taking photos, I sensed that Elvis remained fully clothed because he didn’t feel comfortable about taking his shirt off. I guessed maybe he was self-conscious about the scars on his back left by some of his stage suits. But I had seen him without his shirt on and he looked good.

From time to time I tried to coax him into the water, but because I couldn’t get him into the ocean, I tried to enjoy myself anyway and usually swam with Terry.

Elvis and I had yet to try any of the local Hawaiian delicacies. He was mainly sticking with certain foods he liked—familiar comfort foods like pizza and cheeseburgers—though he did drink a fair amount of papaya juice, which was so readily available.

The first time Elvis ventured out among the general public in Hawaii was for a shopping trip to a local mall. Amazingly, we actually made it into one of the stores without anyone noticing who he was.

We browsed the aisles together and came across some large candles shaped like pyramids. Intrigued, Elvis decided to purchase a few. He also found a mother-of-pearl crucifix on a stand that he liked.

I was looking around the store with my sisters when Joe came over and told us not to show Elvis anything expensive because he would probably buy it. According to Joe, Linda Thompson had once pointed out a costly bubble gum machine to Elvis even after Joe had asked her not to show it to him.

“Sure enough, Elvis bought it, and he didn’t need things like that,” Joe said.

I wondered if Joe always managed Elvis’s spending money. On the one hand, it was nice that Joe seemed to be watching over it, but on the other hand, should Joe be saying what Elvis should or shouldn’t have? Joe didn’t know us well, but my sisters and I weren’t the sort of people who would take advantage of Elvis’s generosity or tell him to buy things. It put a little damper on the enjoyment I’d been feeling while looking at things with Elvis, because the prices on most items in the store weren’t visible and I was now afraid to comment or point out anything at all.

In a second shop, Elvis admired some amazing jeweled robes. He began choosing some for my sisters, Jo Smith, himself, and me. Suddenly I noticed people gathering outside the store and knew word must be spreading that Elvis was here. Elvis spotted them at the same time and decided it was time to leave. I certainly understood others wanting to see him, but I did wish he could have stayed out for a little while longer.

I never knew Elvis to personally carry a wallet; after he’d chosen the robes, a member of his staff got in line to pay for his items. As we stood near the counter, a man was buying something. Elvis asked who it was for and the man, understandably stunned to see Elvis standing beside him, said it was a gift for his wife. Elvis then paid for the man’s item as well.

On the way home, Elvis wanted to show us a tourist attraction, so he asked our driver to stop at an area called the Halona Blowhole. This was a natural occurrence created by lava tubes from volcanic eruptions. As we watched from a lookout area, waves crashed against the formations below us, and every once in a while some ocean water sprayed high into the air.

Before long, some of the other tourists gathered at the sight recognized Elvis and approached us. He kindly posed for pictures and signed some autographs before leaving.

•   •   •

Hawaii was an amazingly beautiful place, but in addition to the stunning scenery, it was also a wonderful opportunity for Elvis to relax and have fun. There was a Ping-Pong table in the house, and once I challenged Elvis to a game. I thought it would be fun and it would do Elvis good to get some exercise. I went to where he’d taken his customary pose on the bed with some books and asked him to play.

“No, I don’t want to,” he said.

Taunting him, I said, “You can’t. That’s why.”

Elvis grinned as I kept at him. Finally, he walked with me into the room with the Ping-Pong table and we started to play.

We hit the ball around a few times, but then Elvis started slamming the ball so hard at me that it became impossible to return his shots. Some of the aides were in the room with us; later, one of them told me he couldn’t believe it, as he’d never seen Elvis play Ping-Pong before.