by Anna Schmidt
Chapter 25
Jeannie
News traveled fast in a close-knit community like Pinecraft and even though Jeannie and Geoff technically lived in Sarasota, Jeannie heard about Geoff’s appearance at Sadie’s hearing within half an hour of the event itself.
Although Zeke had stayed for a cup of coffee, Jeannie could see that his heart hadn’t been in the visit. Clearly torn between his loyalty to Geoff and Jeannie and his concern for Emma and her family, he’d left as soon as possible. But he’d again challenged Jeannie to get back into the community, and so she’d decided that a good first step would be to resume her habit of shopping at the fresh market in Pinecraft. There were still plenty of casseroles and breads and cakes and pies in her freezer and refrigerator, but she was hungry for the lighter fare of fresh fruit and a green salad.
The news of Geoff being in court had come to her in whispered conversations that abruptly stopped as she moved around the store, nodding to those she knew and receiving in return a quick glance before the person gave her a nod or smile and then pretended interest in the produce. These were Emma’s friends and neighbors, and although Jeannie had grown up in this community and among these very people, and even though she was used to people’s sympathetic glances by now, the demeanor of the patrons in the fresh market was different. They looked at her with eyes that questioned even as they covered their mouths with their cupped hands and murmured to their companions.
Jeannie’s guilt over avoiding Emma almost overwhelmed her, and she was on the verge of making some excuse about why she had not been in touch with her sister when Olive Crowder stepped up next to her and made a show of studying the bananas.
“Hello, Olive,” Jeannie said as she selected a large bunch of the fruit and placed it in her basket. “The bananas look especially nice today.” She’d almost said that they were Tessa’s favorite, but she’d caught herself, swallowing back the now familiar bile of grief that seemed to rise in her throat every time she thought of her daughter. “Geoff loves to slice them over his cereal at breakfast,” she forced herself to say instead.
Her mention of Geoff seemed to give Olive the opening she’d been hoping for. “Ja, I’m sure he does.” The older woman pursed her lips as if she’d just bitten into an especially tart lemon. “I’ll come straight to the point, Jeannine.” Olive had always called Jeannie by her full given name. “Everyone appreciates the pain and suffering that you and your husband must endure, but testifying against your own sister’s child, your own niece?” She clucked her tongue. “You were raised to walk on the path of forgiveness and reconciliation, Jeannine. What is to be gained if they send that child to prison? It will not bring your Tessa back, and what else might you lose in the bargain?”
“I wouldn’t… I couldn’t,” Jeannie protested. The very idea that anyone who knew her might think her capable of such an act was unimaginable. She realized that she had made no effort to keep her voice to a murmur, and the other women apparently saw that as their invitation to join the conversation.
“Maybe she wouldn’t, but when it comes to her husband…,” she heard one of the women mutter.
“What about my husband?”
Olive studied her for a moment then held up her hand to forestall any further comment from the others. She took hold of Jeannie’s elbow and guided her outside. “Please don’t try to pretend that you are unaware that Geoffory was in court today to testify against Sadie—to testify for the prosecution,” she told her.
They had to be joking.
Geoff?
He had struggled with his emotions to be sure. He had been depressed, morose, and yes, angry. And it was true that since the funeral, conversation between them had been limited to information about where one of them might be going, or whether he needed anything from the store, or a reminder that he would be late because he had a faculty meeting. But this? Sadie was family. He could never…
“Sometimes it’s hard for one raised outside,” Olive said as if Jeannie had spoken the rush of thoughts aloud. Olive’s voice was unusually soft, appeasing. “Even after conversion there can be ties to the old ways.”
“What old ways, Olive?” Jeannie felt irritated that the woman would say anything against Geoff. He was a pillar of the church, a respected educator and coach. Everyone in Pinecraft—be they old- or new-order Mennonite—admired him.
Olive pursed her lips. “An eye for an eye is not our way, Jeannine. That’s all I’m saying here.”
“And it’s not Geoff’s way either. He is not a vengeful man.”
“He’s a former outsider who has lost his only child to a senseless accident,” Olive reminded her. “In his upbringing, forgiveness and reconciliation would have been mixed with Old Testament justice. His parents made it clear at the funeral that they blamed Sadie. Why, they barely acknowledged that child. I suppose others might understand, but…”
Jeannie turned back to the gathering inside the store. The customers and clerks were all listening to what Olive was telling her and watching her with such pity. Well, she didn’t want or need their pity, and she would stand by her husband. If Geoff had gone to court that day, then he had his reasons. She walked back inside and replaced every item from her basket in its rightful place, and then she left.
But she could not shake the words Olive had spoken. She had said that Geoff had gone to testify—against Sadie. There had to be some other explanation, she thought as she walked home. The prosecutor must have required Geoff to appear in court, and Geoff hadn’t told her because he hadn’t wanted to worry her. That had to be it. Geoff would never…
But later that night as they sat in separate chairs in front of the television eating their supper off of paper plates, Jeannie decided to break the silence between them by telling him about the encounter at the fresh market.
“Can you imagine?” she said as she warmed to her story, throwing in details about who was there and how each reacted and what Olive Crowder said and did. And all the while she waited for him to laugh it off or wave his hand dismissively as he gave her a simple explanation of just how the rumor must have gotten started.
But Geoff said nothing. He just chewed his food and stared at the television.
“It’s ridiculous, of course,” she said, finally running out of steam in her attempt to present the situation as one worthy of their disdain. She took her plate and his and headed for the kitchen. “I think there’s some of that baked peach pie left,” she called over her shoulder, aware that her hands were shaking as she walked the short distance from the study to the sink. “Geoff? Do you want peach pie?” She heard the annoyance and fear in her voice.
“I was there, but I didn’t testify.”
He was standing in the doorway, the television flickering behind him.
Jeannie set the plates on the counter and took a step toward him. “Why were you there at all? I mean, we could have gone together. Emma would have appreciated that—and Lars—and Sadie.”
Geoff’s features contracted with pain. “I have asked you not to mention that girl’s name, Jeannie. Can you do that much for me? For us?”
“That girl? She’s part of this family, Geoff.”
“She is as dead to me as Tessa is,” he replied and turned on his heel and went back to the den. A moment later, Jeannie heard the television volume go louder and become a jumble of channel surfing as Geoff punched the remote repeatedly.
Ignoring the cleanup of their supper, Jeannie walked slowly back to the den. “Please stop walking away from me,” she said as she reached over his shoulder and removed the remote from his hand. She aimed the device at the television and clicked the power off. “Talk to me,” she said calmly. “Tell me why you were at the courthouse at all.” She knelt next to his chair and took his hands in hers. “Help me understand, Geoff.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I went there to testify, but when she saw me, she started to scream, and the judge ordered a recess until Monday…”
“Sadie started to scream?”
He did not argue with her use of her name this time. “Yeah.” He actually shuddered at the memory. “It was like some wild animal howling in pain,” he said.
Tears filled Jeannie’s eyes. Would this never be over for them? Would the hurt just go on and on? “Emma?”
“She was there, and Lars. I thought he was going to punch me, but then I realized that he never would.”
“What did they say? Emma and Lars?”
“Nothing. Emma ran off to a side door where the guard had taken her…”
“Taken Sadie?”
Geoff gave her an impatient look and nodded. “The bailiff let Lars and Emma go to be with her and then cleared the room.”
“Who else was there?”
Geoff shrugged. “People I didn’t know, probably for other cases. Dan’s parents.” He must have seen the next question coming. “Dan testified.”
“So the judge ended it before you had to testify. Then it’s over now.” Jeannie knew that she was trying to reassure herself, knew that she wanted only to block out the realization that it wasn’t over at all. She so badly needed for something about this whole nightmare to turn out to be all right, and if that was that Geoff had been stopped from testifying so that he could reconsider, then she would take that crumb and thank God for it. “I’ll speak with Emma. I can simply explain that you’ve reconsidered, that you didn’t realize what testifying could mean. She and Lars will understand that you—”
“I’m going to testify, Jeannie.”
“But why?”
“How about asking the real question here, Jeannie? How about asking why not?” His voice was raspy, as if he didn’t have the strength to argue but was determined to fight on. “Isn’t that the question you should really be asking for Tessa’s sake?”
Jeannie stared up at him, this stranger with her husband’s face. She didn’t understand this side of him, this rage that seemed to build a little every day. “Help me understand why you would do this,” she pleaded.
“Because I saw what happened.” He ground out each word as if afraid she would miss one. “I was outside there. Your beloved niece almost struck me. Do you understand that you could have lost both of us?”
“But it was an accident, Geoff. A horrible accident. Sadie never intended to hurt anyone.”
Geoff looked at her as if she were as much a stranger to him as he had become in these last several days to her. “Do you hear yourself, Jeannie? It’s Emma or Sadie you worry about—not Tessa and certainly not me.” He stood up and stepped around her. “Well, here’s the thing, Jeannie. I know you love your sister and her family, but I’m not wired that way. My only child is gone—forever…”
“Stop it,” Jeannie hissed, getting to her feet to face him. “Stop talking like you’re the only one who has suffered the loss of Tessa—she was my child—my only child, too.”
“Then maybe you ought to start acting like it instead of looking for ways to defend her killer.” He turned away, grabbed his baseball cap, jammed it on his head, and left the house.
Jeannie waited for the sound of the car starting but instead heard the steady pound of his feet as he ran down the driveway and on down the street. She knew where to find him. He would be at the track at the school, running off his anger and grief. It was hardly the first time their evening had ended this way—with him running off steam and Jeannie at home alone.
Like a robot, she went through the motions of putting the kitchen in order and setting the coffeemaker timer for the following morning. Then she remembered that tomorrow was Friday and a teacher’s work day for Geoff. The weekend would start early.
Memories of the plans she and Emma would make to spend such days off with the girls—just the four of them—hit her like an unexpected wave at the seashore. This would be a long weekend, and weekends, she had discovered, were in many ways the worst. It was easier to get through the hours that Tessa would have been in school. But weekends were always a time when they did everything together. On Friday nights, they would all go to the football game and then out for pizza. On Saturdays she and Emma and Tessa and Sadie would spend the day together—working at the fruit co-op, shopping, or going to search for shells in the bay. And on Sunday after each family attended services at their separate churches, they would spend the rest of the day together, going on outings or just sharing an afternoon and evening of board games or shuffleboard followed by a potluck meal filled with chatter and laughter and togetherness.
As lights came on in houses up and down the block, she switched off the kitchen light and started upstairs, but then she turned and retraced her steps to the wall phone in the kitchen. She dialed the number for retrieving their voice mail.
“You have no new messages,” the electronic voice reported. “You have eighteen saved messages.”
Eighteen saved messages—all of them from Emma. None of them returned. She hadn’t known what to say. Aware that Geoff needed time to forgive Sadie, she had kept her distance from Emma and Lars out of respect for Geoff. She had hoped that once the funeral was over and he had gone back to work, he would realize that Emma and Lars and Matt—and yes, Sadie—were family. But it was clear that he was going to need more time, and she would not abandon him when he was in such obvious pain.
Still she needed support as well, and in the absence of Geoff’s ability to offer her that, she pressed the key to retrieve the first message and give herself the gift of the comfort and strength that she knew she could find in her sister’s voice.
Chapter 26
Geoff
By the time Geoff reached the track, he was already soaked with sweat. He had run full out from the house to the athletic field where he had spent so many good times, celebrated so many victories with his teams, coached and cajoled and parented young boys into the fine young men they had become. This place was the setting for his success. The house he had run from had turned out to be the setting of his greatest failure.
His anger and guilt combined to push him forward in spite of the burning pain in his chest and the heaviness of his legs. He was out of shape. The extra duties as vice principal had cut into the time he usually took to work out at the end of every school day. Work out here with his players, or on off days, run with Matt, who was always hanging around waiting for practice to end and hoping for an invitation to join Geoff in laps around the track.
The kid was an excellent runner, and once he filled out a little, he’d make a good running back. Matt had an instinct for the game of football that was impossible to teach. He had a phenomenal grasp of the intricate plays that often had to be dumbed down for others.
But ever since the funeral, Geoff had avoided any contact with his nephew. After practice if he saw Matt hanging around, he headed back inside the school with his players without so much as a glance at Matt. It wasn’t the kid’s fault. Geoff knew that, and it certainly wasn’t fair to him. But Matt reminded him of Lars and Emma, and that reminded him of Sadie, and that took his mind places that he really didn’t want to go.
It was the same at home. It had gotten so that he had to bite his tongue sometimes to keep from reminding Jeannie that none of this would be happening to them if she had thought before she took Sadie for that learner’s permit. But that was a line he would not cross. Jeannie would be devastated if she knew for one minute that he harbored this thought. At the same time, Geoff suspected that she already carried the weight of regretting that impulsive act with her every waking hour. Speaking the accusation aloud would take their marriage to a place so dark that they’d have no hope of ever recovering, and it scared him to think how close he’d come to shouting that very accusation at her earlier.
He took another lap and focused on his breathing, steady outbursts of air as he pushed his way around the track, quarter mile by quarter mile. He tried to empty his mind, to focus on nothing more than the uniformity of his stride, the form with which he ran. But each puff of his breath came out sounding like Jeannie’s question: “Why?”
; Because a child has died needlessly.…
Because our child was that child.…
Because justice demands that Tessa’s death come with a cost for the one who caused it.…
Because Sadie has always been too free-spirited, too oblivious to consequences, too reckless in the way she treats others.…
Because testifying against Sadie gave him back a feeling that he had control over the situation, that he could do something to make things right.
Testifying was the only way he’d come up with to dampen his own overwhelming guilt—the guilt that he’d carried with him from the moment he’d realized that in trying to protect her he had actually sent Tessa to the exact spot where the car had hit her. Every time he relived the force of that blow, he forgot how to breathe.
Why couldn’t Jeannie understand that?
Why did she always choose her sister and her sister’s family over her own? How many times in all the years of their marriage had he heard her say, “but Emma needs” or “Emma doesn’t understand” or “Emma says” or “Emma thinks”? How many times had they changed the plans he had made with others to include Emma and Lars and their kids? And worst of all, how many times had Jeannie turned to Emma for support or comfort or advice instead of to him?
He heard footfalls behind him. Jeannie was a good runner, and if she had decided to come after him, maybe she had begun to understand things from his point of view.
“Hey, man, hold up.”
He stopped running and turned to see Zeke Shepherd bent nearly double, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Geoff walked slowly back toward his friend.
“You okay?”
“No worries,” Zeke gasped, but he took a minute longer to catch his breath.
