Read Online All Shook Up by Shelley Pearsall - Free Book Online
Authors: Shelley Pearsall
Tags: Fiction
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wouldn’t forget it, and then what happens? I walk out and leave it behind—jeez.” He let out a long frustrated sigh.
I pictured him going onstage in his old jeans, faded T-shirt, and grass-stained sneakers:
Um, howdy folks, forgot my costume tonight, hahaha. Just imagine me as Elvis, okay?
“Do you have a piece of paper and pencil handy?” my dad continued yelling in my ear.
My spaghetti sauce was splattering all over the top of the stove in little lava-like explosions, but I grabbed a pencil and paper. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to call Viv—”
There was that name again. Viv. The lady I’d meet “eventually,” my dad had said. The woman who had called the first night I arrived in Chicago. The potential new girlfriend.
“She’s probably working late in her store. Here’s how to get in touch with her.” He rattled off a phone number. “Just give her a call and ask if she’ll come over and pick up the stuff I forgot and bring it to me. Tell her it’s a big emergency. Tell her I’ll buy her an expensive dinner anywhere she wants in Chicago—”
“I’m not telling her that,” I interrupted. “Why can’t you give her a call?”
“Because I’ve used up every last cent I’ve got on this dang pay phone. I had to borrow a dime from the desk clerk just to get through to you, and I’ve still got to do a sound check and everything else. Don’t argue with me, Josh, okay? It’s been nothing but a disaster so far tonight. Tell Viv to bring the stuff to the Highland Hotel on Winchester. I’m in Ballroom #2. Got that? Highland. Winchester. Ballroom #2.”
I considered telling my dad he could relax because I’d found the perfect job for him. He could go ahead and give up being Elvis that night if he wanted to. But I didn’t feel like shouting all of the details into the phone with who knows what happening in the background. Plus, if the wedding people had already paid him, he probably couldn’t pack up his show and walk out, right? I’d save the news until the next morning as a surprise.
Ta-da,
I’d announce.
I found you a job two doors down from Murphy’s. Isn’t that great?
“You’re going to call Viv, right?” my dad asked one more time.
“Sure,” I answered in a reluctant voice. “What if she isn’t there?”
“She’ll be there. Trust me,” he said, and then hung up.
I was pretty annoyed as I dialed Viv’s number. Once again, it was me bailing out my dad. Josh to the rescue.
A girl answered the phone, and I asked if I could speak to Viv.
“Who’s calling, please?” the voice said coolly, as if she was Viv’s official phone call screener. I didn’t really want to give my name, but what choice did I have? After I said, “Josh Greenwood,” there was a strange pause.
“Hello?” I repeated, in case the phone had gone dead.
“I’ll get her,” the voice said quickly.
The woman who came to the phone after that was definitely the same one who had called the first night I arrived in Chicago. “How are things going for you in Chicago, Josh?” she gushed. “Are you settled in yet? How do you like your new school? How’s your grandmother doing?” It kind of gave me the creeps that the woman knew so much about me. I gave the shortest answers I could, hoping she would get the hint that I wasn’t very interested in blabbing about my life to a complete stranger.
When I finally did manage to get a word in about my dad leaving the house without his Elvis costume, the woman gave an overly long, overly loud laugh. “That’s just like Jerry, isn’t it? Always forgetting something. Give me about fifteen minutes to finish up my work here at the store, and I’ll be right over, hon.”
So I was about to meet the mysterious Viv.
Although I didn’t know it at the time, I was also going to come face to face with Elvisly Yours.
14. Peace, Love, and Vegetarian Spaghetti
About fifteen minutes later, Viv appeared on my dad’s doorstep. She
I pictured him going onstage in his old jeans, faded T-shirt, and grass-stained sneakers:
Um, howdy folks, forgot my costume tonight, hahaha. Just imagine me as Elvis, okay?
“Do you have a piece of paper and pencil handy?” my dad continued yelling in my ear.
My spaghetti sauce was splattering all over the top of the stove in little lava-like explosions, but I grabbed a pencil and paper. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to call Viv—”
There was that name again. Viv. The lady I’d meet “eventually,” my dad had said. The woman who had called the first night I arrived in Chicago. The potential new girlfriend.
“She’s probably working late in her store. Here’s how to get in touch with her.” He rattled off a phone number. “Just give her a call and ask if she’ll come over and pick up the stuff I forgot and bring it to me. Tell her it’s a big emergency. Tell her I’ll buy her an expensive dinner anywhere she wants in Chicago—”
“I’m not telling her that,” I interrupted. “Why can’t you give her a call?”
“Because I’ve used up every last cent I’ve got on this dang pay phone. I had to borrow a dime from the desk clerk just to get through to you, and I’ve still got to do a sound check and everything else. Don’t argue with me, Josh, okay? It’s been nothing but a disaster so far tonight. Tell Viv to bring the stuff to the Highland Hotel on Winchester. I’m in Ballroom #2. Got that? Highland. Winchester. Ballroom #2.”
I considered telling my dad he could relax because I’d found the perfect job for him. He could go ahead and give up being Elvis that night if he wanted to. But I didn’t feel like shouting all of the details into the phone with who knows what happening in the background. Plus, if the wedding people had already paid him, he probably couldn’t pack up his show and walk out, right? I’d save the news until the next morning as a surprise.
Ta-da,
I’d announce.
I found you a job two doors down from Murphy’s. Isn’t that great?
“You’re going to call Viv, right?” my dad asked one more time.
“Sure,” I answered in a reluctant voice. “What if she isn’t there?”
“She’ll be there. Trust me,” he said, and then hung up.
I was pretty annoyed as I dialed Viv’s number. Once again, it was me bailing out my dad. Josh to the rescue.
A girl answered the phone, and I asked if I could speak to Viv.
“Who’s calling, please?” the voice said coolly, as if she was Viv’s official phone call screener. I didn’t really want to give my name, but what choice did I have? After I said, “Josh Greenwood,” there was a strange pause.
“Hello?” I repeated, in case the phone had gone dead.
“I’ll get her,” the voice said quickly.
The woman who came to the phone after that was definitely the same one who had called the first night I arrived in Chicago. “How are things going for you in Chicago, Josh?” she gushed. “Are you settled in yet? How do you like your new school? How’s your grandmother doing?” It kind of gave me the creeps that the woman knew so much about me. I gave the shortest answers I could, hoping she would get the hint that I wasn’t very interested in blabbing about my life to a complete stranger.
When I finally did manage to get a word in about my dad leaving the house without his Elvis costume, the woman gave an overly long, overly loud laugh. “That’s just like Jerry, isn’t it? Always forgetting something. Give me about fifteen minutes to finish up my work here at the store, and I’ll be right over, hon.”
So I was about to meet the mysterious Viv.
Although I didn’t know it at the time, I was also going to come face to face with Elvisly Yours.
14. Peace, Love, and Vegetarian Spaghetti
About fifteen minutes later, Viv appeared on my dad’s doorstep. She
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