CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
After a lot of tears, prayers and Godly fellowship, Tom was able to find bitter-sweet closure to a lot of things that used to haunt him. It was like a boulder had been lifted off of his shoulders. With the hard part over, Jim and Elaine were anxious to leave the two of them alone to get acquainted.
“Elaine, let’s go. I’m sure Olivia’s got a thousand things for her and Tom to get into,” Jim suggested.
“OK, Hun. Sis, you got me on speed dial if you need me,” Elaine quipped as she got up to hug Olivia and Tom goodbye.
“Yep. Number two right after Ryan,” she answered.
As they started for the door Jim asked, “When are you going to start looking for a place to live? The church has got some connections in the real estate field, you know.”
“Oh, that's OK. I think I've found the place that will suit me fine,” Tom responded.
“You have?” Olivia almost gasped. She had already psyched herself into house hunting mode. This was almost a surprise let down.
“Yes. Fred has a very nice cabin out on the river he showed me this morning,” Tom announced. "I fell in love with it the moment I saw it."
Olivia popped her hand on her hip and declared, “So he finally decided to sell that place. He’s been seriously thinking about it for two years. Oh, Grandpa. I do believe it would be the perfect place for you. And, I know a certain someone who will be just as excited about it as you are.”
“Who, Wendy?" he joked. "I had no idea she like to run and frolic in the woods. Ain't that a surprise?
They all laughed as Olivia just rolled her eyes. Jim added, “O-o-o-o-h, yes! I can see a new men's Bible study group being formed.”
“And Arthur’s gang of boys might love the bunk beds, and being away from home. But, not too far, for some of them,” Tom chuckled.
“Yeah, we got some grown men like that, too,” Jim agreed.
“Elaine. Will you get your husband outta here?” Olivia pleaded.
The little lady whistled loud enough to make any man proud and barked, “Let’s go, Jimbo. Or else Little Miss Livvy here will go wild in decorating that ‘man cave’ y'all are planning.”
Olivia continued Elaine’s banter, “And, besides, no money has changed hands, yet and no pen has touched any paper.”
“Uh……..sorry to run off so fast, Tom, we’ll have to get together and discuss…….the…..discussion were we discussing,” Jim said as he didn’t even try to hide the big wink that he gave.
“Will do……uh, ….Jimbo,” Tom replied with a chuckle.
“See what you started,” whined Jim as he escorted his wife out the back door.
“Well, you shouldn’t have….,” Elaine started. But the door closed and whatever she said was covered over by the laughter.
Alone at last, Olivia threw her arms around her grandfather and let him bear hug her all he wanted to. It was pure joy. “Oh, Grandpa, my Grandpa. I really don’t care where you live as long as its close and you're happy. And I really will not lady-fy the place up. I’ll help you do whatever your heart desires to it. As long as I know it’s a place where you can rest and enjoy.”
“Livvy, Liv, Liv. I don’t know how to act right now. It’s almost like starting all over, but the feelings are all different. I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know how to think about things. It’s….”
Olivia stopped him in mid-sentence and commanded, “Oh, I can’t stand not being the boss. Let’s go get Wendy and stop by the deli for a couple of sandwiches.” She grabbed her purse and pulled her laughing grandfather out the door and started phoning Fred all in about five seconds. “Fred, we’re going to look at the cabin, do you mind? The key is where? OK. No, everything is OK. I’d like to get out of this big city and go sit on a front porch somewhere, and that cabin sounds like the perfect place. OK, g’bye."
As Olivia sped the car from baby-sitter to deli and on to the cabin, she fired the questions and suggestions at Tom. Do you have any furniture? Are you bringing it? What style is your living room suit? What color is it? What size is your bed? Do you have any curtains?
As she turned into the driveway leading up to the cabin, it dawned on her. "Oh gosh, Grandpa, how are we going to get all of your stuff down here. Well, shoot. We'll just rent a U-haul and...."
It was Tom's turn to interrupt. With a helpless sigh he started, "Yeah, you're right, Liv. Nobody knows me in the place I lived for twenty-four years. I only made it into town every other month for a two weeks supply of groceries. I was so shy that I wore a bag over my head so I wouldn't be recognized. And I wore a sign on my back that said 'Don't Follow Me, I'm Lost, Too."
As she stopped in front of the cabin, she looked over at him with an are-you-finished-yet look.
He stopped his rhetoric, laid his hand on her shoulder and said, "I've already been in touch with some folks I was real close to. They knew why I was coming to Elmhurst. And, over every objection I had, they told me to stay put and everything would be taken care of. They are so excited about coming here to meet my family."
Olivia smiled at her own silliness and said as she unbuckled her seat belt, "I guess I need to get out of Elmhurst a little more often, huh?"
Tom took the deli sack of sandwiches as Olivia got Wendy out of her car seat. They located the key and went in to the cabin. Olivia put Wendy down and she had a great time exploring a new place. Olivia's head began to work on several different decors that she felt would work. When she realized that Tom wasn't answering, she abruptly stopped and looked at him.
He had been patiently waiting for her to wind down a bit. He saw his chance and mentioned, "Why not just wait until all the furniture gets here and then we'll worry about it." Then in a voice that was minutely, now, I said, only minutely like he was scolding her he said, "You've spent about fifteen minutes talking about plans that will only change when the furniture gets here. We could have been enjoying each other’s company, you know."
As he walked into the kitchen he mentioned, "There's a couple of rocking chairs out on the screened-in back porch that are just begging for some company. Seems like to me, that might be the perfect place to kick back and relax while we eat our sandwiches. Then, little Miss Tornado could run her little legs off while we feed her bites."
As if on cue, Wendy made her appearance from out of one of the bedrooms. She stopped in the doorway, looked at her audience of two and asked, "Bites?" There's nothing wrong with her hearing or her appetite.
"You win, Grandpa," Olivia sheepishly smiled as she walked out to the back porch and sat down in one of the rocking chairs. However, Wendy did not follow her mother as she normally would have. After all, Tom had the sack with the deli sandwiches. He held his hand out to her and she shyly walked over and allowed him to escort her to her next play room.
The screened in back porch was shaded by two great big oak trees. Twenty yards beyond the trees was a five acre fenced in pasture. Fred let several horse owners graze their horses in it so that he wouldn't have to have it mowed all the time. It was not uncommon to see deer grazing with the horses, especially in the late afternoon.
Tom sat down in the other rocking chair and Wendy clambered up into his lap. He dutifully pulled out Olivia's sandwich and handed it to her. The french fries were in a neat little box just right for Wendy to handle. He took the other sandwich out of the bag and started feeding her some bites.
A few minutes passed while everyone was satisfying their hunger. Since everything was somewhat peaceful, Olivia decided to breach what might be a tender subject, "Grandpa, has the question come to your mind as to why Grandma didn't write you any letters like Daddy did?" She watched his expression closely.
Tom waited a few moments before he answered. He spoke in a little bit lower tone than normal, "I hadn't given it very much thought, Sweetheart. Ellen always had a solid head on her shoulders, so I guess she had her reasons."
Olivia, too, waited for a few moments before she continued, "Do you want to know.........well, I'm going to tell you anyway
. By the time I got to be fourteen and began maturing from a little girl to a young lady, she started spending some quality time with me every week. I'm not talking about just an hour or so. It would be at least half a day and sometimes some all day trips to Atlanta. They started off as just a few hours, but after a month, they began to get longer. And.......she always talked about you."
Tom stopped eating and looked at her with a questioning look. He had no idea where she was going with this. "Really?" he finally asked.
She couldn't tell what effect the conversation was having on him so she said, "If you don't want me to go on, I won't. I just thought you might like to know."
Tom’s lips widened into a small smile as he looked down at his sandwich. He was a bit hesitant in answering, "It's one of those things where you wonder about it but you're not quite sure you really want to know."
"It's not bad, really," she reassured him.
"Then, tell me what you think I need to know," he suggested.
She watched his countenance and decided to just tell him about the letters before she went on about anything else. She started, "She told me that she had made several attempts at writing but had to give it up."
"Really, why?"
Hesitantly, she continued, "She said that as she began to write to you she felt those old feelings for you coming back. The more she thought about writing, the more her attitude toward Brian seemed to change. She prayed about it and decided against it. She was afraid that if she continued, and her attitude toward Brian took a wrong turn, that her actions might wind up hurting the people she really loved. Did I make sense in all of that or did I just goof up the explanation?"
Tom smiled at her, "I understand, Honey. It makes plenty of sense. She did the right thing."
Olivia was more than relieved. For the next hour, she related story after story that Ellen had passed down to her about Tom. By the time they were ready to go, Tom was wearing a satisfied smile. His doubts and fears of the past seemed to have melted away. All these years and no one had been mad at him. It was the most peace he had felt in years.