This is What Happened Next Door

My neighbor's yard is beautiful. There are no weeds in the lush green grass, and in the back, where the abundant sun begs for a swimming pool or an orchard of trees, they have created a kind of oasis garden - an island of soft leaves of various colors that surrounds a single inviting lounge chair reclined to the perfect degree. For her or for him? I've often wondered.

The front has fastidiously kept borders of blooms, greens and purples that delineate an adorable sitting area for two and the path to the entrance of what could be a magical and mysterious cottage in a garden.

From the outside, it seems the picture of perfection...the incarnation of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young's "Our House". She cares for the flowers, while he cares for the lawn.

She died on Monday night. I had only met her once...on the day she had been jumping through her sprinkler with the seven-year-old from across the street. I thought she was a teenager. My daughters insisted that she looked terribly familiar and that we should find out who she is.

If I had not approached her that day, I would not have known that she taught  at the beloved Montessori school where my youngest still attends. I would not have known that last year she taught one of my older daughter's closest friends. She was my next-door neighbor.

On Monday night, my street was filled with emergency vehicles, including a trail of police cars that reached the intersection to the main road. This was not an ordinary call...something had gone wrong.

Suicide, says her partner, but the police suspect him and take him into custody. They questioned all the neighbors, trying to gather information for how to inform her family before Facebook beats them to it. Their red and blue lights danced through my windows and tightly closed blinds until well past 1:00 am.

"Are the disco lights gone?", asked my youngest as she opened her eyes the next morning. I was left with the burden of easing this news into my children's lives.

There are things that must be done after a tragedy like this happens in a home. After two days, a van with the word "Aftermath" on the side appeared. I wondered if they had cleaned up my grandmother's apartment after my stepfather shot her and my mother.

The family has been in and out all week...removing all kinds of belongings from the house. Someone mowed the lawn, and there is a solar light that illuminates the yard at night. From the outside, the house looks pristine and serene. No one would suspect the nightmare inside.

...there are so many houses like that.

I'll light the fire, you place the flowers
In the vase that you bought today
Staring at the fire for hours and hours
While I listen to you play your love songs
All night long for me, only for me

(from Our House, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young)