The Complete Series

by Angela Scipioni

  All of the women said they were sopranos, except for Lily and two others - Janise, a young African-American woman who attended the nearby Wesleyan college, and a woman about Lily’s age whom everyone called “Scooter.” Lily loved the deep rich tones of the alto line and contended that the only reason the soprano part was so lovely was because the alto line provided it depth and character.

  Most sopranos Lily knew were prima donnas, but as she looked to her right, she saw Cora from PTW, another older woman of about eighty who was adjusting her hearing aid, and a few women in their forties who seemed to know each other, but whom Lily did not recognize. Lily wondered how Jeffrey would get a solid soprano line out of the lot of them.

  “I know how much you all love running the scales!” Jeffrey threw his arms up into the air in mock enthusiasm, putting on a show, behaving exactly as they expected and hoped he would - a curiosity of androgyny at the very least and a fascination of anomaly at most.

  Jeffrey sat at the piano and struck a chord at the left end of the keyboard. “Mi mi mi mi mi mi mi...” He moved his fingers up one-half step on the piano keys and struck a second chord. “Mi mi mi mi mi mi mi,” they all sang. Key by key, Jeffrey’s chords moved up through the lower registers where the bass singers were the only ones who could be heard, to the midrange notes where Lily, Janise, and Scooter hung out with the tenors, to the higher end of the scale where the self-ascribed soprano section screeched and wailed, much to Jeffrey’s dismay, judging from the wince on his face. Lily couldn’t be sure, but she suspected that Cora was only moving her lips.

  “OK, OK,” said Jeffrey. “Let’s see now.” He folded his hands as if in prayer, and bowed his head, the tips of his index fingers touching the end of his broad nose. He sat silently for a few seconds and then with a smack of his mouth he raised his head, opened his eyes and separated his hands with his fingers spread apart, palms facing the choir, bracing them to hear his next amazing idea, which had probably just been handed down to him by God, or the Holy Spirit, or Jesus, or maybe even the Angel Gabriel, since he himself was a bit of a musician.

  “Let’s try something fun, shall we?” Jeffrey clapped his hands together and scanned the choir. “Lily, why don’t you,” he said, pointing his finger first at her with great exaggeration, “try taking a seat over there.” He traced an imaginary arch with his fingertip from where Lily sat to the soprano section.

  “And you,” he said, pointing to Cora, and tracing an arch in the air back to the alto section. “Move over there.”

  “But I’m a soprano,” said Cora.

  Lily looked to Jeffrey expectantly, hoping he would think better of upsetting the status quo that they had constructed only minutes earlier, but to which they were already firmly attached. Cora probably hated the relative obscurity of singing the alto part as much as Lily hated swinging for the high notes.

  “Oh, it’s just for fun!” said Jeffrey, placing his hands at his hips. “I’ve chosen pieces that don’t go all that high anyway, Cora... we’ll bring you in when they get more challenging. I’m just dying to hear what it sounds like if we mix it up a little, OK?”

  Cora and Lily looked at each other, and then at Jeffrey. “Oh, humor me!” he said, with a dismissive flourish of his hands.

  One painstaking section at a time, Jeffrey took the choir through several measures of one of the songs he was planning for Easter vigil, and then had them all sing together while he accompanied on the piano. Even though their timing was clumsy and a few people missed notes along the way, Lily had to admit that the soprano section sounded better with her in it, and Cora’s lip-synching didn’t matter as much in the alto section, which Janise and Scooter enthusiastically carried.

  After a few more takes, the passage sounded noticeably smoother and fuller, as individual singers gained comfort with their lines, becoming emboldened to sing in full voice, including Lily. The final time they went through it, Lily felt inspiration and joy bubble up from her core, reminding her of the way she once felt, used to feel, in the days when Dolores had convinced her that she would one day be a famous singer. The dark burdens of the day seemed a shade or two lighter, and as difficult as it had been to come, Donna had been right - the singing soothed Lily’s agitated soul. She was disappointed when Jeffrey announced that they were out of time.

  Lily walked leisurely out to her car, enjoying the snap of early spring air against her face.

  “Lily - wait up!”

  Lily turned to see Jeffrey approaching.

  “Hey, Jeffrey.”

  “Hey yourself, girlfriend,” he replied. “Why have you been hiding your voice from me all this time?”

  “I haven’t been hiding,” said Lily. “I just never seemed to have time for choir.”

  “I haven’t been this excited in years,” said Jeffrey. He placed his hand on Lily’s shoulder, pausing to first look to his right, and then his left, and then he leaned in toward Lily, cupping his left hand around the edge of his mouth, though there wasn’t a soul in sight. “You didn’t hear this from me,” he said, “But our choir - well, our choir sucks.”

  “I don’t know how much of a difference one voice is going to make.”

  “I only need one really fine voice to do a piece for the Easter Vigil that I’ve been simply dying to do. It’s sort of a responsorial song with a part that’s perfect for you - it’s technically a soprano part, but I don’t have a soprano who can do it. That’s why I had to move you.” Jeffrey drew a piece of paper that was sticking out from the thick folder of sheet music he carried with him everywhere, and handed it to Lily. “You will make me the happiest unpaid choir director on God’s green earth if you tell me that you can sing this for the vigil.”

  Lily looked at the music. “ ‘Lift Me Up’... hmmm... I’ve never heard of it. It doesn’t look liturgical; are you sure they’ll let you do it?”

  “Oh, please,” said Jeffrey, dismissing Lily’s concerns with the wave of his hand. “Read those lyrics! How is that not an Easter song? It’s like a conversation between the risen Jesus and his people. I still get choked up whenever I read them.”

  Lily scanned the first verse. “It is beautiful.” She looked up at Jeffrey. “Did you write this?”

  “I wish!” he laughed. “I can sing and play the piano but I cannot write to save my life, which is why God made me so pretty.” Jeffrey traced the arch of his eyebrow with his middle finger, and then laughed. “It was written by my friend Jackson. And listen,” Jeffrey punctuated every other word by shaking his index finger at Lily. “I work with that bunch of tone deaf misfits from Thanksgiving to Easter and I don’t get paid a dime.” He rested his hand on his hip. “I figure I’m entitled to do one song just for me. Anyway, I’m not about to ask first. My motto is that it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission. What are they going to do, fire me?”

  Lily continued to read from the paper. “These lyrics are really amazing. And the range looks OK - except for this bridge.”

  “Don’t worry about the bridge - you were practically hitting those same notes during warm-ups. Do you have a piano or anything at home that you can use to practice?”

  “My old guitar is stashed away somewhere. I can probably dig it up.” Lily hadn’t sung in front of an audience since Iris’ wedding. “I just need to check with my husband to make sure we don’t have plans.” She knew they didn’t, but these days, it was easier to leave the escape hatch slightly ajar, in case Joe decided that a particular activity to which Lily had committed herself was inappropriate, or would inconvenience him too greatly. Or in case Lily just got too scared and needed a way out. It was also a reminder to herself not to get excited. Not yet.

  Jeffrey removed the cap of a blue Bic pen with his teeth, and rummaged through his shoulder bag, pulling out a scrap of paper. He scribbled and handed the paper to Lily. “Call me ASAP and let me know - I’m so excited that I probably won’t even be able to sleep tonight!”

  The next week, Lily syphoned off enough money from the grocery
bill to buy a new set of strings for her guitar, which she transferred from the attic to the back of her bedroom closet, taking it out to practice only when the boys and Joe were away from the house.

  “Why don’t you just do it while he’s home, darlin’?” said Donna. She set a Tupperware container of peanut butter cookies down on the table in front of Lily. “It seems so silly to hide something like that from him. It doesn’t hurt anyone for you to be playin’ that guitar.”

  “I haven’t told him about the solo yet.” Lily filled their mugs with coffee.

  “Well, why not, for Heaven’s sake?”

  “I’m afraid he’ll put me through the third degree - or ask me to explain why I’m doing it. I don’t know why I want to sing. I just do.” Lily tucked a tuft of hair behind her ear. “And if I don’t tell him, he can’t stop me.”

  “You don’t need a reason to use the gifts that the good Lord gave you, Lily. The Bible says that we should not hide our light under a barrel. You’ve got to own up to it at some point, darlin’,” said Donna, patting Lily’s hand. “I’ll pray for you - that you have the courage to let your amazin’ light shine.” Donna popped a cookie into her mouth, “And I believe that Joe will not stand in the way of God’s plan for you.”

  The following Sunday, Joe and the boys were nestled in the family room watching basketball while sauce for Sunday dinner simmered on the stove. Lily was overcome with the urge to sing, a phenomenon that had occurred with increased regularity over the past few weeks. Her hands tingled for her guitar, and she craved her song in a way that reminded her of the way she craved a cigarette with her morning coffee. She stealthily retrieved her guitar from the closet and sat down cross-legged on the living room floor, her back against the couch, the sheet music on the floor in front of her. She strummed the introduction to the song, and then began singing softly, careful not to be distracting, bracing herself for Joe’s response.

  By the time she reached the end of the first chorus, Pierce appeared at the top of the family room stairs. He walked over to Lily. “What are you doing, Mommy?”

  “I’m practicing,” she said.

  “What are you pacticing for?”

  “They’ve asked Mommy to sing in church on Easter, so I’m practicing my song.”

  “Oh.” Pierce bent down and strummed the guitar. A smile broke out over his face. He turned and ran back downstairs. “She’s pacticing a song, Daddy,” Lily heard him say.

  “A song?” Joe asked. “What kind of a song?”

  “It’s a church song,” said Pierce. “And I played the guitar!”

  Lily held her breath, waiting for a burst of anger, or inquiry, or both.

  “Hey - Barbra Streisand!” Joe shouted. “When’s dinner?”

  Lily rehearsed every free moment she could find, each time expecting Joe to challenge her or mock her, but he didn’t. Perhaps since Lily had been a singer before they had met, Joe accepted it as part of the package. Or maybe he simply didn’t take it seriously enough to care. She also considered that Joe knew he had to give in to her at least once in awhile, because permission to do this could be used as a sort of a currency in an argument against allowing her to do something else - something more objectionable - in the future. If he allowed this, she wouldn’t be able to claim that he didn’t let her do anything outside the house. She could almost hear him shouting, “What about that time I let you sing in the choir at church?”

  Of course, there was also the possibility that Joe appreciated Lily’s talent, or that he thought it was sacred that she was singing in the service of the Lord. That one was a long shot, and if she’d learned one thing over the years, it was that long shots sometimes did win, but more often, they did not. Whatever the reason for Joe’s acquiescence, Lily took it as a gift, and as Easter grew closer, her excitement mounted.

  “Hi there,” Donna called over from the backyard. “Are you nervous about tonight?”

  “I don’t know what is freaking me out more - singing the solo, or doing it in front of Joe.” Easter and Christmas were the only times Joe even considered going to church, but that was Catholic Mass - she never thought she’d see him set foot in Christ Covenant Church. Lily didn’t want to tell Donna that she wasn’t exactly thrilled. CCC was Lily’s place, her refuge, something that was just hers. Except for Donna, none of her church friends had ever even met Joe; Lily preferred it that way.

  Lily stood up from her weeding, brushed the dirt from her hands and walked over to the fence. “I still can’t believe he’s coming.”

  “Now why are you so surprised?” said Donna. “We’ve been prayin’ for him, haven’t we? You’ve been prayin’, I’ve been prayin’, PTW has been prayin’. And after all, it is the season of redemption. That’s what Jesus’ message is all about. No one is too far gone so as to be out of the reach of God’s love.”

  “I guess,” said Lily. “But I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “O ye of little faith!” Donna laughed. “‘Blessed are they who have not seen and yet believe.’ Hey - I have to set up the refreshments before service. C’mon over at six - we can ride together.”

  “Mommy, I want to go with you!” Pierce stomped his foot and stood in front of the door, attempting to block Lily’s way.

  “Sweetheart, Mommy and Donna have to go early. But Daddy and you and Joseph are going to come right away, and I’ll see you there, OK?” Lily picked Pierce up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Will you come and listen to Mommy sing? Will you?”

  Lily turned to Joe. “The service starts at seven o’clock, Joe, but you’ll need to get there early if you want to get a parking space.”

  “Am I going to have trouble parking the car? You didn’t tell me it was gonna be crowded.”

  “Joe - it’s Easter vigil at a Christian church - of course it’s going to be crowded.” Lily set Pierce back down. “But you know, if you don’t feel comfortable coming, you don’t have to come.”

  “Why don’t you want me there?” Joe asked.

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want you there,” said Lily. “I just said that if you don’t want to deal with the parking and handling the boys and everything, I understand.”

  “Oh, I’m coming,” said Joe. “Don’t you worry about that.”

  As the congregation stood for the opening hymn - led in unison by the choir - Lily scanned the sea of faces from her place on the risers at the front of the sanctuary, looking for Joe and the boys. She noticed Bethany’s hair, towering a few inches above her husband’s head. The couple was flanked by their two children, Jacob and Ruth. Lily also spotted a few of the women from PTW, most of whom waved at her as though she were their daughter in the school play. She smiled and nodded, recalling Jeffrey’s admonition that when they were in their blue and white choir robes, they were more like clergy than congregants, and were expected to conduct themselves as such. Just as the opening hymn ended and Pastor Halloway emerged from the room behind the altar and took his place at the pulpit, the doors at the far end of the room opened, and Joe and the boys tumbled in. An usher rushed over to greet them and to help them find a seat.

  Pastor Halloway delivered an impassioned sermon as dusk seeped in through the windows, but Lily couldn’t stay focused on the message. Her excitement had dwindled, leaving anxiety in its wake. What if she forgot the words to her solo? What if she missed her cue and didn’t come in at the right time? What if she couldn’t hit that high note in the bridge? What if she opened her throat to sing and all that came out was the fear and self-recrimination she was feeling? Was she crazy? Why had she agreed to do this?

  After the sermon, Pastor invited everyone to sit down while the ushers passed out small white candles, each one fitted with a cardboard collar to catch melting wax. Lily had a clear view of Joe and the boys, who were wedged in between an old woman dressed in purple and a young family with a daughter about Joseph’s age. She and Joseph were pressed up against each other, both of them looking annoyed, but neither one trying to move away.

>   After the candles were distributed, the head usher lit his from the altar candle, and then used his flame to light the candles of all the other ushers. They in turn went to the head of each pew and the lit the candle of the person sitting on the aisle. That person passed their flame to the person sitting next to them. Soon, the room began to glow and flicker, a soft warmth filling the church. Lily was touched at the metaphor of all light coming from one source, illuminating all. The faces of the congregants were calm and peaceful, as though the glow of candlelight cast a magic spell that revealed only their innocence and their beauty. Lily looked around at them and was filled with love and compassion - for Bethany and her overzealous but passionate dedication to the cause of the Christian wife, for Donna and her love of cakes and cookies, for Jeffrey and the way he took his place within the community even though the community chose not to recognize him for who he was, for Joe and the boys, for all the nameless faces that were - at least for this small space in time - sharing life with her. Her anxiety waned as she realized that these were her people, her family. They were not here to judge her, and she was not here to perform. She was here to help them pray.

  Jeffrey sat at the piano and nodded to the choir. Lily stepped forward, placing herself at the microphone stand in front of the risers where her fellow singers stood. She looked over at Jeffrey, who winked and smiled at her. He placed his fingers on the piano keys, bowed his head and closed his eyes briefly, then began to play. After two measures of music the room seemed to fall away as the choir hummed in four part harmony.

  Except for the candles, the only light in the room was a shaft of dimmed track lighting that fell directly on Lily, casting a glow over her head, falling on her shoulders like a stole of gold.

  Lily drew in a breath and sang.

  “When you looked for me, tell me,

  What did you see?

  Were you all surprised to find