Livvie's Song (42 page)

“It’s a fine turnout, Will,” said Reverend White as he sat down beside him. “The Lord is going to use you this morning.” He leaned in closer and, speaking out of the side of his mouth, added, “All I had to do was tell Mrs. Garner you were going to speak today. She works about as well as the
Daily Plain Dealer
when it comes to spreading the word about something.”

Will looked at him, and they both laughed. “You don’t mean to tell me all these extra folks came to hear me talk!”

“Indeed, they did. You’re the sermon today, Will.”

The sermon?
“You mean, you’re not going to—?”

“Nope. I didn’t tell you for fear you’d turn me down. Don’t look so worried. Let the Lord guide you and give you the words to say. There’s a message inside you that folks need to hear, a message about love, forgiveness, and a changed life. Just say whatever the Lord lays on your heart to say, son. It’ll flow; you’ll see. By the way, did you see Mrs. Beckman and her boys back there? Looks like the Grants decided to come, too.”

That did it. Will was going to lose his breakfast. He glanced around, and, sure enough, there was Livvie, sitting about seven rows back on the other side of the aisle. She wore a pretty yellow hat that complemented her floral print dress, and her strawberry blonde hair was curled so that it curved around her cheeks and fell in waves at her shoulders. She had one arm around the shoulders of each of her sons. He imagined she’d been giving them more hugs than ever in the past few days. Man, he missed seeing them—hearing the boys’ squeals of laughter, watching them race through the restaurant like little roadrunners. He didn’t dare let his eyes linger long, lest someone catch him gawking, but he would have given just about anything for one of Livvie’s smiles about now.

He faced forward again and took in a deep breath to steady himself. Reverend White chuckled. “It’s going to be a wonderful day. Got a good feeling about it, I do.”

***

During the hymns, Livvie couldn’t help but sing at peak volume, no matter that she lacked any musical ability. Her inner joy had to find an outlet, and voicing her praises to God gave it wings to fly. That moment, she was especially thankful because she’d finally spotted Will—in the front row, of all places, seated next to the preacher—and because Clem Dodd was in jail, while she was here, breathing fresh air and tasting the goodness of life. If she had been given a million guesses as to what the past week would bring, it wouldn’t have been enough. Margie said she’d come full circle, and she had, but it felt like more than that. It felt like she’d been given a second chance to make her life—her words, actions, and everything else—count for the kingdom.

She didn’t know exactly how or why it had happened, but, sometime in the middle of the night, she’d awakened with an almost tangible sense of God’s inimitable, abiding presence. He’d seemed to whisper,
Trust Me, My child. All is well. Instead of bemoaning your cruel circumstances, remember, I will never leave you in the thick of them. I never have, and I never will. Your soul is safe for eternity, and the only thing I ask is that you surrender every care into My capable hands. Seek Me first, for when you do that, every piece of your life will fall into its proper place.

Upon hearing that peaceful, precious assurance, she had sat up, pulled the string to turn on her bedside lamp, and begun to read her Bible. She’d cried tears of joy as she’d read promise after promise, divinely directed to passages of Scripture she’d never read before and delighting in their solid truth.

As the congregation sang the final verse of “Standing on the Promises,” the Holy Spirit gave her another reminder of God’s grace and faithfulness, and the simple revelation made her knees buckle. Thankfully, the organ stopped playing, and Reverend White invited everyone to sit, anyway.

***

While the reverend stood in the pulpit and introduced him, Will was convinced that his heart would burst straight through his chest if it didn’t quit the fierce hammering. Why on earth had he agreed to share his testimony? He tried to recall the speech he’d practiced but couldn’t remember even one word. It was as if the light in his mind had suddenly switched off, turning his entire brain into a dark maze of confusion. To make matters worse, Reverend White’s voice sounded remote and echoey. None of his words really registered, except for “Will Taylor!” at which point Will felt a hand on his shoulder, someone behind him urging him to step forward.

In a daze, he made his way to the podium. Reverend White smiled and whispered, “Speak from your heart, Will,” then returned to his seat.

The place was so quiet, one could have heard a fly sneeze.
Lord, tell me what You want me to say. Prepare folks’ hearts for Your message, not mine.

“Hi, Will!” The familiar voice that cut through the silence prompted a wave of gentle laughter. Will relaxed a little.

“Hi, Nate,” he replied, searching out the sweet boy and then grinning at the three people he loved most in the world. Livvie’s beautiful smile gave him the courage he needed to proceed. “And good morning to the rest of you.” As folks nodded and smiled, he cleared his throat and rested his hands on the sides of the pulpit to steady his slightly trembling knees. With slow, deliberate enunciation, he said, “I once was lost but now am found, was blind, but now I see.”

From there, his story unfolded, beginning with his childhood—how it had started out normal and happy, with music and laughter and fun, but had wound up unusually sad. How he’d carried the guilt imposed upon him by his parents for his sister’s drowning, and how that guilt had prompted him to seek love and acceptance in other places—the wrong places.

He spoke about the bad habits he’d acquired along the way, how life had held little purpose back then, how everything he’d seized hold of had left him feeling empty and wondering about the meaning of it all. He told them how he’d hooked up with a wicked bunch of friends—yes, Clem Dodd had been among them—and how he’d found himself on the wrong side of the law more than once as he searched for acceptance, for a way to belong. He shared how his beloved harmonica had brought him bits of joy in the midst of evil, and how he could now look back on those times as glimmers of God’s light in his deepest, darkest days.

As he talked, Will noticed a few things. One, his knees had stopped knocking. Two, his sentences were coming out clearly. Three, folks seemed to be focusing intently on his every word; they were either sitting forward in their seats, shaking their heads in wonderment, or dabbing at damp eyes. And, four, Livvie was wearing a serene expression, a kind of half smile, which encouraged him immensely. Together, these observations impelled him to continue.

He told about the jewelry theft that ultimately landed him in prison, and how he wouldn’t trade that experience, however dreadful and demeaning, for all the gold in the world, as it had led him straight to Harry Wilkinson. He explained how Harry had never given up on him, had always gone to bat for him, and had expected great things from him. He said that Harry had a way of preaching that made God sound appealing, and he described how he’d finally reached a dead end in his life and had come to realize it was God or nothing. He told them how, once he’d made the decision to follow Christ, his life hadn’t gone from black to white overnight, but that the change had been a process, one that continued today. He explained how he’d learned that living a Christian life meant disciplining oneself to pray and study the Word and listen for God’s voice in the day-to-day struggles. That faith didn’t come easy, but it did come.

He told them about the key role forgiveness had played in his spiritual growth, how he’d needed to come to a place where he laid down the heartache of loss and handed off to the Lord the burden of guilt his parents had placed on his shoulders. He spoke of how he’d had to forgive them, even though they’d passed away, and how he’d managed to let that well of bitterness drain out of him. And then, he spoke of the wondrous sense of freedom and joy that had resulted.

In the end, he challenged folks to submit their hearts to Jesus, and then to go out, find somebody who needed to know the love of Christ, and be bold by showing it. On that note, he reached inside his pocket, pulled out his harmonica, and began to play “Amazing Grace” with eyes closed, heart uplifted.

When he finished the hymn and opened his eyes, he couldn’t believe how many people had come forward and gathered at the wooden altar at the front of the church with arms uplifted in surrender to Jesus.

***

When the service concluded, folks just didn’t seem to want to go home, overflowing as they were with praise and thanksgiving. Many people, including Howard, Coot Hermanson, the Joneses, and the Wimberlys, gathered around Will to shake his hand, give his shoulder an encouraging squeeze, or pat him on the back and thank him for his inspiring message. And they had questions galore, wanting him to expound upon one or more aspects of his fascinating testimony. Although her boys managed to squeeze through the hordes of people to get to Will, Livvie couldn’t make her way through the masses, for all the people who swarmed around her, as well.

“He sure is something, Livvie,” Margie whispered. “My, I had no idea.”

“So wonderful to see you,” said a woman Livvie recognized as the pastor’s wife, grasping Livvie’s hand in both of hers and pumping it up and down.

“Thank you, ma’am. It’s wonderful to be here.”

Margie leaned closer. “I mean, not only is he a fine Christian man, he’s, um, quite amazing.”

“Shh, Margie,” Livvie said out of the side of her mouth.

Stepping back, Margie smiled at the preacher’s wife. “Hello, Esther.” Then, she came close to Livvie again. “What? I’m just saying, he’s amazing. Surely, you agree.”

“Now is not the time—”

“Olivia, I’m so happy to see you safe and sound. My, what an ordeal for you.” This came from Hildi Sherman, a young mother of three, who gave Livvie a hasty yet warm hug.

Livvie smiled. “Thank you, Hildi. It’s good to see you, too.”

When Hildi moved on, Margie continued. “My opinion? You can’t afford to let him get away.”

“Margie, hush.”

“Just look how your boys have taken to him!” She gestured at the crowd across the room.

“Livvie, Livvie! Oh, my goodness! Thank the Lord you’re well.” Cora Mae pressed through the masses and grabbed Livvie close. In her ear, she whispered, “Will Taylor is a wonderful man, don’t you think? My, his story was so inspiring. If you don’t marry that man, I’m going to sink my claws into him.”

“Cora Mae!” she laughed. “You are a living stinker!”

“What?” Margie squeezed in closer. “What did you say to her, Cora Mae?”

“I said, I think—”

“I’ve decided to reopen the restaurant tomorrow,” Livvie cut in. “Will you be ready?”

Cora Mae’s eyes popped. “Ready? I was ready last week!”

“Wonderful!”

“Olivia, praise the Lord and all His creation!” Clara Gillen moved in to sweep Livvie into a monstrous hug. Margie and Cora Mae stepped off to the side, and, while she talked to Clara, Livvie saw them put their heads together.

The warm greetings, hugs, handshakes, and cheerful chatter went on for almost an hour. By 12:30, all but a few parishioners had cleared the sanctuary, and Will and Livvie finally made eye contact, albeit briefly, due to those hangers-on who were known for being the last ones out the door. While she talked with an old high school friend, Vera Warner, Livvie glanced over the woman’s shoulder and saw Margie walk over to Will, shake his hand, and then stand on tiptoe to whisper something in his ear. He smiled and winked, and then she walked away.

A few minutes later, Margie and Howard whisked Alex and Nate out the door with a promise to return them to the apartment by three o’clock. Something smelled fishy, Livvie thought, but it was a good kind of fishy. Reverend White and Esther started collecting papers that had been left in the pews, and the deacons began to put away the extra chairs.

“Livvie.”

She turned at the sound of Will’s smooth, deep voice. “Will, you were wonderful. At last, I get to tell you.”

“It wasn’t me; it was the Lord.”

“I know, but still….” Their eyes met and held, kindling a glow deep within her. “I’m planning to reopen the restaurant tomorrow. What do you say to that?”

“Am I still working for you?”

“What? Of course you are, you silly goon! Why would you ask such a thing?”

He dipped his chin. “Well, I don’t know. I just thought, maybe, you know, with everything that’s happened….”

“Will Taylor! After that inspiring talk you gave, you think I’m going to let you go?”

He tossed his head back and laughed. “May I walk you back home? I can rustle us up something to eat for lunch.”

“That would be lovely. May I help you? I can cook, you know.”

“Really? I never would have guessed,” he said with a wink.

As they walked, their hands touched, but he didn’t move to take hers. So, she did the next best thing and looped her arm through his.

He grinned down at her. “I’m glad you did that.” Then, he put his hand on top of hers as they turned down Market Street, the sun warming their shoulders, a soft breeze keeping them comfortably cool as they strolled. Not once did they lack for topics of conversation. They talked about Clem Dodd’s upcoming trial; Will’s discussion with a BOI agent regarding Orville Dotson’s whiskey still, after which the agent had promised to investigate his claim; Livvie’s plan to call Joe Stewart and fill him in on the recent happenings; and Reggie’s heroic role in her rescue.

When they reached the restaurant, Will took the key from his pocket and held the screen door as he turned the lock in the front door, then pushed it open. The room was stuffy, so they immediately set to opening windows and turning on ceiling fans. Livvie took off her hat and placed it on the closest table. She knew her hair must look a mess, but, somehow, it didn’t matter.

They met in the kitchen, where Will scanned the refrigerator shelves while Livvie hunted through cabinets. “What are we looking for?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Will answered. “What sounds good?”