I Know What You Did

by N L Hinkens

  “Yes,” Jo replied, feeling a little flustered. Not a lie per se, but it was certainly stretching the truth to refer to Mia as a friend. She and Liam had agreed it would be better not to bring up the fact that Mia was still a student. She would be eighteen in a couple of weeks and graduated from high school before the baby was born, so it was a moot point as far as they were concerned.

  “Well, first of all, congratulations to you both,” Derek said, reaching for a pen and jotting something down. “You’ve done all the hard work for me.” He wiggled an eyebrow and smiled expectantly as if he’d cracked a well-executed joke. Jo smiled politely back, trying to play the part of a euphoric mother-to-be, despite the mixed emotions swirling around inside her.

  Derek flicked through some paperwork in the file in front of him. “As a school counselor, I’m sure you’ve already submitted to background checks that will satisfy the adoption placement. The next step is to have the mother—your friend—fill out the adoption placement form. You and your husband should be aware that she has thirty days after the birth to change her mind. After that, she’ll be required to sign a legal document relinquishing her parental rights.” He frowned at his paperwork for a moment. “Father is unknown, is that correct?”

  “Yes,” Jo said firmly, trying to quash the sudden wave of guilt threatening to derail her.

  She thought she saw Derek hoist a brow a fraction of an inch, but he quickly moved on. “I’ll go ahead and set up an adoption care caseworker from the social services department to perform an in-home study. It’s merely a formality to make sure you and your husband are financially and emotionally in a position to adopt your friend’s child. You’ll need to have some paperwork on hand for that visit—proof of income, a doctor’s clean bill of health, that kind of thing. I have a list here I’ll give you.”

  “I’m sure I can get all that together next week,” Jo said.

  “Excellent.” Derek tapped his pen on the file. “What’s the mother’s due date?”

  Jo blinked, heat rising in her cheeks. “I’m not sure of the exact date. She’s about nine or ten weeks along.”

  “Great, that gives us plenty of time. Once you find out the due date, shoot me an email. After that, I’ll go ahead and get a court date on the books. You and your husband will both need to attend, and that’s when we’ll present your petition for adoption.” He paused and tweaked a smile. “Provided neither of you turn out to be felons, the judge will approve the petition and you’ll become parents.”

  Jo’s eyes welled with tears. Just hearing those words sent a powerful wave of emotion crashing through her that was hard to control. Surely she shouldn’t be allowed to experience this much joy when her friend had just died. “Thank you,” she said, sniffing. “I’m sorry, this is all so overwhelming.” She wasn’t sure she was talking about the baby anymore, but she wasn’t about to explain to a virtual stranger the nerve-jangling emotional roller coaster she’d been on for the past few days.

  “No need to apologize,” Derek said. “It’s perfectly natural to be emotional when it comes to this point in the process and it all becomes real.” He pushed a checklist across the table to Jo. “These are the items you’ll need to get together for the caseworker. Do you have any other questions for me?”

  “I don’t think so,” Jo said, slipping the checklist into her purse. “I’ll get to work on this.” She got to her feet and shook hands with Derek before making her way back out to the reception area. Nodding to the smiling receptionist, she exited the lobby and heaved in a deep breath of fresh air. She’d made it through the appointment with the adoption lawyer without becoming a blubbering mess. She only hoped she could get through the funeral mass for the father of her baby as smoothly.

  13

  Liam and Jo dressed for Sarah’s funeral in silence, a surreal rite that seemed to Jo more a mockery of Sarah’s life than an act of homage. How could Sarah, someone with so much zeal and energy, be dead? It had been ten days since her body, along with Noah’s, was discovered in her car. The police had wrapped up their investigation, convinced by the cumulative evidence that Sarah and Noah had made a pact to commit suicide. The burner phones located inside the car spoke volumes about the illicit relationship that had been going on for almost five months. The texts they’d exchanged had become increasingly guilt-ridden as time went on, and the idea of committing suicide appeared to have been a joint decision, neither one coercing the other into it. The coroner declared both their deaths to be the result of carbon monoxide poisoning. The autopsies determined nothing else untoward, other than that Sarah and Noah had taken an anti-anxiety prescription beforehand, presumably to help them fall asleep more quickly as the noxious gas filled the car. It was all too horrific to process.

  “Ready?” Liam asked, jolting Jo from her agonizing thoughts.

  She nodded distractedly, her stomach twisting at the thought of seeing Sarah lying on a bed of tufted silk in a glossy casket—as lifeless as the Bavarian doll in the glossy European brochure still buried at the bottom of Jo’s purse. A trip that would never be taken by either of them.

  The service was being conducted at a local funeral parlor, restricted to family and a few close friends. Robbie didn’t want it to become any more of a circus than it already was. Preparing for the worst, the police were enlisted to stave off any protesters. Robbie had received several threatening emails slamming Sarah in the intervening days, and someone had gone so far as to spray-paint molester over his front door. Even Barb had received some abhorrent mail sent to the Alzheimer’s facility accusing her of spawning a pervert who preyed on children. In the end, Robbie decided against putting an obituary in the paper, fearing it would only elicit more abuse.

  Jo and Liam ducked as they headed into the funeral parlor, trying to avoid the intrusive media camera zooming in on their movements. Jo nodded to her colleagues as she entered the room where the service was being held. Soft instrumental music played in the background. The lighting was defused and gentle, programmed not to intrude on the grieving, but to Jo the atmosphere felt stifling, a parody of the spirited life Sarah had led. It was too still, almost as if everyone were holding their breath along with Sarah. The casket—closed to Jo’s relief—sat on a wooden stand at the front of the room, bedecked with an elegant gladioli floral spray and flanked by two white columns each displaying a framed picture of Sarah. On the left she was a blushing bride on Robbie’s arm, and on the right, she stood at the edge of a steep hiking trail wearing a backpack, arms thrown wide and laughing—the Sarah they all loved best.

  They made their way to the front row and whispered a few words to Robbie, before shaking hands with the rest of his and Sarah’s extended families including a bewildered looking Barb, seated next to a caregiver from the home. Then they slipped into the row behind Robbie and waited for the service to begin.

  The officiant made his entrance through a doorway to the right of the casket and walked to the podium. “On behalf of the Gleeson and Davidson families, I would like to welcome you all to this celebration of Sarah Gleeson’s life. It is only natural that we should mourn today, because in a very real sense Sarah is no longer a part of our lives. But today is also a day for memories and for all of us to pay our respects and say a fond farewell to a remarkable woman who lived life with infectious joy and brought so much happiness to others. At this time, I would like to ask Sarah’s cousin, Ella, to come up and read a poem she has selected to commemorate her.”

  Jo watched as Sarah’s cousin took her place behind the podium. She looked like she was barely out of high school. Her expression was strained and her eyes red from crying. Almost immediately, her voice began to waver, “Do not weep for me, I have gone with the wind, taken flight—“

  Jo scrunched her eyes shut, blocking out the words that rang so senseless. Sarah hadn’t taken flight—she had taken her life, and to what end? She had accomplished nothing other than making all these people suffer. Her friends, her family, her colleagues, not to mention Noah’s frie
nds and family. Why, Sarah, Why?

  Liam laid a hand on her shoulder and whispered, “Are you okay?”

  Jo gave a tight nod, keeping her eyes forward. She was barely holding it together. Death had robbed her of far too much in the space of a few weeks, and she had yet to come to terms with any of the losses.

  When Ella sat back down, Robbie stood and walked sedately to the front of the room. He smoothed a piece of paper out on the podium and then gripped the edges, hanging on for dear life as he looked out over the faces of Sarah’s friends and family. “I stand before you today a broken man.” He paused, the mic picking up his ragged breathing before he continued, “I never imagined I would be the first to say good-bye. I had the privilege of being Sarah’s husband for eight blissful years. Not only did she spread love and happiness to everyone around her, she was my best friend and the joyous spark who brought light to our home. I know everyone here is going to miss her incredible smile as much as I do.” His voice wavered, and he pulled out a tissue and discreetly wiped at his nose as he glanced down at his notes. “Sarah, my sweetheart, may you be at peace. I will never cease to love you and I will forever treasure the far too short time we enjoyed on earth together.” Robbie lifted his head and looked out over the mourners. “Thank you all for coming. Sarah would want you to know that she loved each and every one of you.” He folded his paper up and returned to his seat accompanied by muffled sobs from the audience.

  A young woman got up next and sang a soulful rendition of “Wind Beneath My Wings.” When the officiant finally stood to close the service and invite everyone to the reception in the adjoining parlor, Jo steeled herself for the awkward interactions that would follow. This wasn’t a typical funeral where you could talk effusively about the great life the deceased had led. Sarah wasn’t old enough for her death to be justified. And, as she’d taken her own life, they couldn’t even talk about the tragedy of her dying young. The double suicide pact was the huge elephant in the room that everyone would be forced to dance around. Jo had no doubt it would be a similar conundrum at Noah’s funeral mass. Suicide wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you discussed if it could be avoided—to say nothing of the illicit affair that had driven Sarah and Noah to kill themselves.

  After mingling at the reception for an acceptable length of time and expressing their condolences once again to Robbie’s and Sarah’s extended families, Jo and Liam excused themselves, and made their way back to their car to drive to St Jude’s Catholic Church in time for Noah’s funeral mass.

  “That was rough,” Liam commented as he drove. “I’ve never seen a man as shattered as Robbie. He’s a trooper, though. To say all those beautiful things about his wife knowing she was carrying on behind his back.”

  Jo stared morosely out the window. “I can’t imagine this next service will be any easier, at least not for the Tomaselli family. Noah’s mother was barely holding it together when she and her husband came to see me.”

  Liam grimaced. “Sérgio was so proud of Noah. He talked about him quite a bit during that golf tournament we played in together.”

  A few minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot outside St. Jude’s Catholic Church. To Jo’s horror, the media was stationed there in full force. Evidently, the funeral of the teenager in the illicit affair was considered more newsworthy than that of his teacher. As they walked toward the entrance, Jo glanced across at a reporter standing behind an oversized mic broadcasting live. “The scene outside St. Jude’s Catholic Church this afternoon is heart wrenching as mourners pack the sanctuary to pay their last respects to rising football star and high school senior, Noah Tomaselli, who died ten days ago in a tragic suicide pact with his married lover, twenty-nine-year-old art teacher, Sarah Gleeson, on staff at Emmetville High.”

  Jo quickened her pace, eager to get inside and away from the relentless media coverage that couldn’t seem to get enough of what they were treating as a modern-day Romeo and Juliet tragedy. She and Liam slid into a pew toward the back. The front of the church was decorated with topiaries and opulent flower arrangements interspersed with giant easels displaying blown-up photographs documenting Noah’s short life. Jo was thankful she was seated too far back to make out the details. She didn’t want to be reminded of his handsome smile and dark eyes that had seduced her friend to do the unthinkable. Raising her gaze and looking around, she studied the intricate mosaics, stained glass windows, and stunning arches inside the church. It was quiet and peaceful in a different way to the funeral home. Many of the pews were packed with students. Noah’s teammates were wearing varsity jackets and football jerseys. Toward the front of the church, the extended Tomaselli family occupied several rows on both sides. Jo searched the pews but couldn’t see any sign of Mia. Maybe she’d decided to skip the funeral. Under the circumstances, Jo could hardly blame her. It seemed Mia’s suspicions about Noah had been right all along.

  The music began to play, and an altar boy appeared and lit a candle before kneeling in front of the alter and crossing himself. He exited again and a few minutes later a procession of priests made their way up the aisle followed by pallbearers wheeling a polished walnut casket gleaming under the candlelight at the end of each pew. The priests spread out and took up their positions on the dais, lighting additional candles and crossing themselves. The priest who was officiating circled the table waving a liturgical censer and then handed it to one of the attendants before facing the crowd and raising his hands. “Let us pray. Oh God, who hath set a limit to this life—“

  Jo buried her face in her hands, tears leaking between her fingers. This was all wrong. God hadn’t wanted them dead. Noah and Sarah had taken their lives, cheated their families and friends out of time on earth together. But why? None of it made sense. When the prayer ended, Jo wiped her eyes, raised her head, and listened numbly as one of Noah’s sisters read from the book of Lamentations.

  When she finished, the officiant got to his feet again and addressed the audience. “We are gathered here today in this church to celebrate the life of Noah Antonio Tomaselli.” The priest paused and adjusted his glasses before continuing. “Noah received his baptism, communion, and confirmation here in this very church and now, all too soon, his funeral mass. Although his journey here on earth has come to a close, there is still much to celebrate in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and one day soon Noah’s resurrection. For those of us left behind, we remember a fine young man, a promising athlete, and an excellent student who was deeply loved by his family here on earth. At this time, I would like to ask Noah’s friends to come forward.”

  Jo watched, blinking back hot, salty tears as several friends and teammates took their turn at the podium to share a special memory or thought.

  “He was a great guy and a big contributor to the team,” Brandon Edison began, choking up. “The kind of guy everyone wanted to hang out with and everyone wanted to be like. I miss him already.”

  After Noah’s friends had all said their piece, Sérgio Tomaselli walked to the front of the church and cleared his throat while he adjusted the microphone. “The Tomaselli family would like to express their thanks to the community for their outpouring of support at this difficult time. It is impossible to describe the depths of our grief at the tragic loss of our only son, Noah.”

  Lydia Tomaselli bent over in the front pew and the woman next to her laid her hand on her shoulder.

  Jo dabbed at her eyes and whispered to Liam, “This is too heartbreaking.”

  He nodded glumly, his face creased with anguish. “I don’t know what to say to his parents at the reception afterward.”

  “No one does,” Jo replied. “All you can do is offer your condolences.”

  When the funeral mass finally ended, they followed the crowd of mourners out past the reporters and cameras and into the adjoining church hall where the reception was being hosted.

  Along with Noah’s other teachers, they lined up to pay their respects to the Tomaselli family.

  “Thank you so much for co
ming,” Lydia said squeezing Jo’s hand as she wiped at her eyes with her tissue.

  Liam shook Sérgio’s hand. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” Sérgio replied gravely, already reaching out his hand to the next mourner.

  They moved on down the line and shook hands with Noah’s sisters and several other extended family members before breaking away and moving toward the refreshments.

  Jo’s eyes widened when she caught sight of Mia standing with a classmate sipping on an iced tea. She waited until the other girl moved off before approaching Mia. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come or not, under the circumstances. I’m so sorry.”

  Mia eyed her warily. She threw back the rest of her iced tea before tossing the cup in the trash. “Guess they got what was coming to them, didn’t they?”

  14

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  Jo was finding it difficult to breathe as Liam hurriedly reversed out of their driveway. Mia Allen had gone into labor, four-and-a-half weeks before her due date. The last time Jo had seen her, she was dressed in a knee-length graduation gown, and tossing her cap in the air with wild abandon. Immediately afterward, she’d moved to San Francisco, and their only communication since had been through email and texts, and the occasional phone call. Jo glanced at the clock on her phone, making a quick calculation of their arrival time. It was a five-hour drive to San Francisco. Realistically, Mia’s labor would probably last a lot longer than that, but some part of Jo was terrified she would miss the main event. Mia had wanted her and Liam to be at the birthing center, to take ownership of their baby right away as she’d put it. As harsh as it sounded, Jo could understand her decision, given the circumstances of Noah’s betrayal. Mia had been so bitter at the reception following his funeral. The birth of his child would bring it all back with a vengeance.