REUNION

Chapter 21

Vanessa closed the book that her daughter had fallen asleep reading and placed it on the nightstand. She kissed her softly on the forehead and switched off the lamp, smiling slightly, as she looked at her child in the dim light from the hallway. Her sweet Kelly was the best thing to have come from her marriage to Andrew Richardson. With her long, sandy hair and azure eyes, she was a stunning beauty, just like her comely mother. When their little family would go out together, Drew's friends would often compliment him on the good-looking ladies in his life, and he would beam with pride. He always considered himself a lucky man to have married Vanessa, and felt it was a short-coming on his part that he could never completely capture her heart.

Drew was a good man and she had loved him in her way, but marrying him simply seemed like a better idea than having to return to her father's house after college. All the years they were married, Vanessa went through the motions of being a faithful, dutiful spouse, and she was kind to him, but she could never feel for Drew what she once had for Morgan. Most observers would have thought that she was the perfect wife, not realizing that she was merely an adept actress playing a role. Drew knew, however, and felt the distance between them. He couldn't have Vanessa's love, but Kelly was a part of Vanessa, and she was the apple of his eye.

It was Kelly who found her father, one Sunday afternoon, slumped over his desk from a fatal heart attack. She had gone out to his home office to tell him the special dinner she and Vanessa had made for his birthday was ready for serving.

Drew's death at forty-one was a shock to everyone. He was a seemingly fit man who took reasonable care of himself. Doctors later said he died of an undetected congenital problem, possibly aggravated by the stress of his business. Thankfully, Kelly was adjusting well to the trauma of losing her father, comforted by beliefs she'd been learned from her mother. "His spirit is always with you." Vanessa reassured her. "Departed loved ones let you know they're around you. You only have to watch for the signs. And Honey, when it is our time to cross-over, we'll all be together again."

Vanessa went downstairs to make a cup of tea, which was a nightly ritual. She found it helped her to relax and fall asleep. Tonight she selected apple cinnamon from the box of assorted tea bags. She stirred in a half a spoon of sugar, and took the delicate china cup to the dining table to drink while she made her journal entry. Taking the small notebook and a pen from the concealed drawer at the head of the table, she began to write.

It was a longer entry tonight, reflecting on her day at Richardson's Accounting Services, the business she and Drew built together. She wrote about some of the people she'd encountered at the office. She scribed a message to Drew, and then, she began to write her messages to God. She thanked Him for the blessings in her life, and she wrote about her feelings for Derek. She concluded her comments with the phrase that would become her mantra. "God, if it be your will, bring my Derek back to me."

xxxxx

Morgan held Penelope's hand as he told his story, as if his touch could ease any pain his words might cause her. He recounted how he and Vanessa met at the reunion and "Pen, it was as though she was trying to recreate the date we never had. She even wore the same color gown as she'd bought for prom night." He told her about him and Vanessa going out for a long drive on Saturday, visiting sites in the old neighborhood, and how they walked along Lake Michigan. "Mostly, we talked. We talked about old times and we caught up on each other's lives, how we've evolved over the years. Vanessa has become very, uh, I guess the word is 'spiritual.' She has a lot of beliefs that are kind of unorthodox."

"Such as…" Penelope asked, flatly, digesting what he'd been telling her.

"She believes in reincarnation, astrology, psychic stuff…" He chuckled. "Hey, she read my aura and offered to do my horoscope."

Wonderful Vanessa is just a plethora of talent, she thought, sourly, to herself but replied. "Why didn't you let her do it?"

"I think knowing the future might be a bit unsettling. Besides, Babe," he shrugged, "I'm not sure what I believe about any of it."

Garcia didn't say anything. She held some new age beliefs, too, but she didn't often discuss them since many people were closed to such ideas. Anyhow, right now she was more interested in the nitty-gritty of what happened over the weekend.

He continued. "We had breakfast together on Sunday morning and I took her to the airport. End of story."

Right, Derek, Penelope thought, aggravated. Let's get to the point. "Did you sleep with her?" She asked, looking directly into his eyes.

"We had separate rooms, two floors apart." Not exactly a lie, he reasoned, hoping she would accept the statement and drop the subject.

She pulled her hand away from him and reached for a chocolate. Funny how, whenever she was stressed, food seemed to numb her anxiety. "Are you going to see her again?" She asked, biting into a vanilla butter crème.

"I'm not planning on it." This time he looked at the floor, and she noticed a slight touch of uncertainty in his voice.

"Uh-huh." She replied, flatly. Two evasive answers to questions that should have been "no and no." She figured she might as well ask 'the big one.' She licked the crème from her finger and asked. "How do you feel about her?"

He took her hand again. "Pen," he said, groping for the right words. He knew he hadn't fooled her with his vague answers, and he knew she would see through a lie. He bit his lip, wishing he didn't have to answer. "I love her." He admitted, honestly.

Hearing the words she dreaded the most, Garcia tried to pull away from his grasp, but he held firmly. "Penelope, please!" He pleaded.

"I want to go home." She said, bursting into tears and attempting to get up from the couch. He pulled her back down. "Let go of me." She struggled to withdraw her hand. When he didn't ease his grip, she screeched, "DAMN IT, DEREK, LET ME GO!"

"No," he said, still holding onto her. "Please, Baby Girl. Hear me out."

With her free hand she slapped him, hard, across the face. Startled, he released her hand and she quickly was on her feet and heading for the front door. Three seconds later, he was beside her, slamming shut the door that she had partially opened. "Penelope, calm down. You can't drive anywhere like this."

She tried to open the front door again, but Derek held her by the wrists. He turned her to face him and shook her, slightly. "Penelope, stop!" In exasperation, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her, and she collapsed into deep, gasping sobs against his chest. After a couple of minutes, she calmed enough that he could lead her back to the sofa. He got a paper towel from the kitchen and handed it to her. "I'm sorry. I don't have tissues." With a heavy sigh, he sat down again on the couch beside her. Damn, he was getting weary of dealing with tearful women, something he didn't do very well. The emotional exhaustion was evident in his voice when he pleaded. "Baby, please…talk with me."

He looked and sounded so deflated that Penelope saw past her own misery, and began to appreciate his. Her handprint showed clearly across his cheek, and she felt bad for having hit him. She had encouraged him to go to Chicago to see Vanessa, and now she was giving him grief over it. She knew there was a chance she could lose him, in spite of all that darned "true love is letting go" crap she was flowing with at the time she told him to go. At least she owed him the courtesy of hearing what he had to say.

She wiped her tears and blew her nose. "Okay, what?" She asked, flatly.

Gently and meeting her eyes, he asked her. "Baby Girl, do you think I care less for you because I love her?"

xxxxx

Derek Morgan began building his emotional barrier at a young age. It started with the painful bigotry he faced as a biracial child growing up in a black and white world. His wall grew thicker after his father's murder. Perceiving his grief as weakness, he cried his tears alone, hiding his anger and outrage, and all the while struggling to become the man of his family. When he was victimized by a sexual predator, he sealed his fortress with shame and guilt, and isolated himself even from God, whom he felt had abandoned him.

On a sunny September morning in the hallway of Putnam High, whatever Vanessa Fowler saw in his eyes made her reach out to him. She saw past his secrets and his wounds, and she fell in love with him, innocently and unconditionally. Her devotion allowed him to accept himself, and it changed him.

"Penelope, do you remember when you got shot?" Derek asked, now that she had calmed down and they were able to talk. "You said that you believed everything happens for a reason, even something so terrible. What did you mean?"

"Well, I guess you could say getting shot made me appreciate life. I started to notice sunrises and sunsets. It brought me closer to God. I learned what wonderful friends I have. I mean, I never knew I had so much love around me." She looked down, shyly. "It was the first time you ever said you loved me," and she smiled thinking of it. "It brought Kevin into my life. A lot of good things came out of what happened. I think it changed me for the better."

Derek was holding her hand again. It was not to comfort her now, but to steady him. Exposing his deepest feelings was not easy, but he was going to try. Awkwardly, he began. "I was pretty fucked up when I was a teen…After my dad died and…some other shit happened…"

The first person Morgan had ever confessed to about his sexual abuse was James Barfield on the night at the center when he went to confront Carl Buford. Gideon and Hotch, Gordinski and Dennison, all knew because they had overheard the confrontation, but Morgan never discussed it. Vanessa knew because she'd put the pieces together. Tonight he told Penelope. With all the awful details he had never spoken about to anyone, he poured out his heart. "I'd had a hard time adjusting to my father's death, and the abuse…when it started…God, I was so ashamed, Pen. I hated myself…even after it stopped, I still, uh…"

Even at this moment of confession, he couldn't bring himself to admit he'd doubted his own sexuality. "What kept me going was that I felt like I owed it to my father to…I thought it was my duty to…take care of my mother."

He was looking down at the floor and Garcia noticed how hard he was gripping her hand. It almost hurt, but she didn't want to interrupt him for fear he would stop his narration.

"Vanessa and I talked a lot over the weekend about things that happen for a reason. Pen, can you understand? She came into my life when I needed…someone."

"Did she know?" Penelope asked very gently, "about the abuse, I mean?"

"Not specifically, but she wouldn't have cared. That's what made the difference. The prettiest girl in school saw something in me. She fell in love with me…fucked up Derek Morgan. She could have had anybody…a lot of guys better than me, but flaws and all, she loved me."

It bothered Garcia a little to hear how damned desirable he thought Vanessa was, but she understood his point. And then she remembered what happened between them. "But, she hurt you."

"No." He shook his head. "No, she didn't. It wasn't her. It was her dad. He didn't want his daughter dating a black guy. Vanessa and I talked it all out, Pen. It wasn't her fault."

This conversation was hard for him, and he asked Garcia. "Do you want something to drink?" She shook her head 'no' as he proceeded into the kitchen. He mixed a stiff vodka and cranberry juice, took a long drink, and refilled it. He didn't want to drink so as much as steady his nerves. Even talking to Penelope about his past conjured up the old feelings of guilt and shame.

He continued when he sat down. "Even Vanessa's dad…If you believe that everything happens for a reason, I have to put that in its place. He was a catalyst. With her dad acting like a dick to me that night, it made me want to prove myself. It made me determined to succeed in the white man's world, and make assholes like him eat their words."

It hurt her heart to think that Derek had been treated badly, by anyone…ever. She could see he was upset by their talk, and she reached out and brushed his cheek with her hand. God, she was sorry she'd hit him. She realized how wrong she was to have reacted the way she did. Reluctantly, she asked him. "What does Vanessa think was the reason you were in her life."

"She thinks I was meant to show her that all men aren't like her father." He was almost embarrassed to say it. "She says I showed her that men could be sensitive." He took a drink and concluded. "Her dad was a very hard, controlling man."

Penelope didn't know if she had lost Derek or not. He'd admitted to loving Vanessa, but he was with her, baring his soul. She reached for a chocolate before asking, nervously. "Do you think I have a purpose in your life?"