Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Criminal Minds.
Who We Are
Part 18
By N. J. Borba
"It's so nice to finally meet you."
"Sorry, but I can't return that sentiment," Emily was completely honest with the woman as she held Michelle's worried gaze.
She wasn't very sorry, though, as she became aware of everything around her in frightening clarity. The weight of the gun in her hands, the tightness of every muscle in her body. The slight chill of morning burning off from the sunlight beating against her back. A blue sky hovering above the busy city, the hum of cars rushing by on the street below. Her lack of Kevlar, lack of a communication device because everything had happened so fast that none of them were wired. But nothing stood out more vibrantly than her niece's soft pink lips as she spoke a single word.
"Emily," Michelle's voice was a whispered plea.
Even as incongruous as it seemed in relation to their surrounds, Emily smiled reassuringly. But her words were directed to the woman calling the shots. "Let her go, Margaret. You don't want to hurt her; she's your granddaughter." If there was even a shred of decency or remorse in the woman, Emily needed to find it. Fast.
"True," Margaret replied, not budging an inch. "But someone once said I was too self absorbed to be anyone's mother. Who was that?" she asked without waiting for a reply. They both knew the answer. "Do you suppose it goes for grandchildren as well?" the woman taunted.
"She's not what you want," Emily remained undaunted by the woman's words. Because her sister's voice pounded in her head, over and over. I need you to promise me you will watch after Michelle when I'm gone. And her response, which had come reluctantly, but nonetheless sincere. I promise.
Margaret scoffed at the younger woman's comment. "And you think you know what I really want?"
"No," Emily shook her head just a little, the rest of her body still rigidly poised. "You said it was Michelle you were after, and for a while I believed that. Then I even thought that maybe it was me you were really after. But I don't think that's true either." Emily held the woman's gaze, starring into her emerald eyes. They were beautiful eyes, like her niece's. But where Michelle's held an air of innocence and kindness, Margaret's conveyed only a depth of ambiguity. "My newest theory is that I don't even think you know what it is you really want."
"Shut up," the woman grew defensive. "I'm not confused."
The denial of it spurned Emily forward. "What happened to you?" she asked, still hoping to break through to the woman. Or at the very least, get her distracted enough to save her niece. "Was it your ex-husband? Did he hit you? Verbally abuse you? Is that why you killed him and took your son?"
"Stop," Margaret growled. The sound was barely human.
Emily knew she was finally getting somewhere. "Is that why you latched on to Richard, because he was broken? He was pliable. And it was your chance to finally be the one in charge," she still wasn't sure of the details, but she was sure of the storm brewing behind the older woman's eyes.
Margaret laughed. It was her only defense against the truth at the moment. "So, you've finally come for revenge," her words shifted topic. "I can see it your eyes, so much like he was. Your father," she spat the words.
It was an obvious diversionary tactic, but it riled Emily nonetheless. "I am nothing like that man," she replied as calmly as she could, sensing that Margaret was trying to get her angry. She did her best to focus on Michelle and the task of getting her free. "And it seems to me like you're the one out for revenge."
"Of course you're like him," Margaret kept at it; picking at the open wound. "It's his blood that runs through your veins. You're destined to be like him, to go crazy, to do horrible things. You'll be just like him, whether you like it or not," she conveyed.
Suddenly it all made sense to Emily. "So, that's it then," she took a shallow breath. "Your father hurt you, or maybe your mother. Maybe both of them," Emily could see the woman's eyes narrow. She'd definitely hit a nerve. "We repeat the patterns we're taught as children." Emily knew that to be true in many cases, she'd seen it numerous times before and she should have seen it this time. But sometimes the easiest solutions were the hardest to see. And she'd been too close to the situation, trying to deal with her own fears of becoming like the man named Richard Hayes.
"You think you're so smart, don't you?"
Emily didn't bite, knowing the woman was still trying to weave her web of hatred around them. "You hurt Anna and Eric; you tortured them because that's the only example you ever had to follow. Is that what you wanted to teach Michelle? Is that what you wanted to teach me all those years ago?"
"You would have been so much more receptive because of who your father was," Margaret replied. "You would have been easier to mold than those two. And Michelle has lost her mother and father; surely there is hatred in her just waiting to boil over."
"But that's not always the way it works. Is it?" Emily sighed. "They resisted you. Eric lost his father; Anna was ripped away from her family. But somehow they were able to hold on to each other. For years you showed them nothing but hatred, but they still had love in their hearts. And when Richard died they let you go. They showed you compassion when it would have been well within their rights to end your life. They gave you a gift, but you had no idea what to do with it," Emily almost felt sorry for her. "Instead you threw it away and spent years figuring out how to cause even more pain."
"That's what my parents did to me!" the woman finally shouted. "They only ever caused me pain."
"We do not have to end up like our parents," Emily insisted.
"Of course we do," Margaret replied.
Emily heard finality in her words and watched as everything that had been so perfectly detailed before suddenly became a frantic mess. Margaret lowered the knife and both her arms, freeing Michelle from her grasp. But then she gave the child a small shove. Michelle gasped as she felt herself slipping over the parapet wall toward the sidewalk. Her hands clawed at the air as she released a single, terrified cry. "EMILY!"
Without even breathing Emily flew to the wall, diving over the side to catch her niece. The gun fell from her grasp, clattering to the roof as she barely caught hold of the child's wrists with both her hands. Michelle's body mass was equal to only half of Emily's, but at the moment the child had gravity on her side and Emily was nearly pulled over the wall herself. "Don't look down, chaton," she told the girl. "And try not to move," Emily instructed as she desperately attempted to brace her legs against the wall behind her. But a spark of fire shot up her left side in the process.
"You must both die in order for the cycle to end," Margaret said as she plunged her knife into Emily's side.
Emily felt the knife embed itself in her skin. She glanced over to see a thin trail of crimson trickling from the wound, drizzling down her blue silk blouse. It was a small knife, but that didn't stop it from hurting like hell when Margaret retracted the blade and plunged it into another fleshy spot on that same side. Emily kicked at the woman while still holding on to her niece. She spared a glance at Michelle. "Hold on to my right arm with both hands," Emily demanded of the girl, watching as Michelle's legs dangled helplessly over the sidewalk, six stories down.
The child did as instructed, clutching to her aunt's arm as tightly as she could, trying to claw her way up. Emily took a deep breath and blocked out all knowledge of her aching body. She stuffed that sensation into the darkest corner of her mind as she further stretched her body in ways she wouldn't have thought possible before. Emily was actually grateful for the knife wounds, because it meant Margaret hadn't realized her gun was up for grabs. She reached down with her throbbing left hand and fished around for her gun. Another spike of pain tingled down her left side, but she grasped the weapon and brought it around.
A shot rang out. It was followed by a second.
Margaret's body staggered away from Emily. The knife slipped from her hand and she collapsed against the roof, rolling onto her back as blood began to pool beneath her. When Emily discarded her gun again, three male figures came into her view of the sidewalk below. "Derek, up here!" she desperately called down to them. But even their presence didn't settle her stomach very much as both her hands locked around Michelle's wrists again.
"Hold on!" Morgan shouted while dashing around the building.
Emily resisted the urge to laugh, as if she'd been planning to let go. Even from a distance she noticed that Rossi and Hotch looked rattled, which seemed a little odd to her because she rarely witnessed their emotions get the better of them. She guessed things didn't look very good from their vantage point. Dave had his cell phone pressed to one ear, no doubt calling paramedics, police, anyone he could think of to help. Hotch sheathed his gun and looked like he was about ready to try and catch Michelle if she fell. Emily wasn't about to risk that outcome. She couldn't even risk waiting for Morgan to reach them. There was no time. It was up to her alone.
Slowly, and with every fiber of her being, Emily pulled. She reached a state beyond pain, a place where she didn't even need to block it out. There was nothing else in her line of sight other than Michelle as she began to lift the girl. When she reached Michelle's torso, her hands grasped the girl's armpits and she yanked as hard as she could. Michelle groaned as her stomach and knees scraped across the parapet wall. Emily grunted as she kept pulling, biting down on her lip, breathing through it one moment at a time. Seconds later they both fell backwards onto the roof, the girl landing on top of her aunt.
"It's okay," Emily whispered reassuringly. "You're safe now." Michelle clung silently to her aunt, heart pounding and tears in her eyes. Emily smiled, her heart beating just as frantically, sweat tricking down her brow. It felt as if she'd just given birth to the child, her very own 4'-8", 60 pound, nine-year-old, baby girl.
Derek worriedly shouted out their names as he came around the corner, gun drawn. He skidded to a halt, taking a moment to comprehend the scene. Morgan rushed to them and squatted beside Emily, searching both her and Michelle for injuries. "I think I skinned my knees," the child whispered.
He almost laughed, unbelievably relieved to hear the girl lamenting such a trivial thing. But then Morgan noticed the blood oozing from Emily's side and his heart leapt into his throat. "You're bleeding.
"It's not that bad," she told him.
Margaret made a guttural noise from behind them and all three heads turned toward her. Derek raised his gun, but he watched as blood flowed past her lips, two bullet holes causing her life to drain from her chest. "I guess you got your revenge after all," she groaned, staring at Emily. "You're not any better than your father."
"You're wrong," Emily replied, still cradling Michelle against her chest as she sat up. "It's not his blood running through my veins, nor is it my mother's," she told the woman. "It's mine. I am in charge of my own life and I plan to live the rest of it proudly as the daughter of Elizabeth and Joseph Prentiss. And I plan to raise Michelle to be as kind hearted and loving as her parents were, despite what you and that man did to them. That is the sweetest revenge I could possibly imagine."
The old woman finally looked old. Tired. Deflated. "Maybe I'll see him there," she whispered, eyes glazed over.
"Who?" Emily couldn't help but ask.
"My father," Margaret replied, her voice a pale whisper, devoid of the hatred she'd held only minutes ago. "I wanted to be better. I wanted to find someone to love me the way he never could. He couldn't say the words. He was stone. He said I was no better than him. He said one day I'd die alone…"
Michelle looked to her aunt for only a second before her small hand reached out to the woman who she knew was her grandmother. She gently touched the woman's cold, limp hand. Like her parents before her, the girl showed Margaret compassion. Despite the last few hours of her life being held hostage by the woman, Michelle let her grandmother know she wasn't alone.
The woman drew a final breath and then laid there; vacant green eyes open and aimed toward the sky.
xxx
Derek clenched his teeth in sympathy as he watched the ER doctor stitch up the last of Emily's stab wounds. Thankfully the cuts had been shallow and missed all major arteries and organs. They'd still required several stitches and would be cause for considerable discomfort for the next week or so. But Emily seemed fairly oblivious to the pain or anything other than the girl bundled up beside her on the exam bed. Michelle's physical injuries had been far less dire, her minor scrapes and bruises had easily been cleaned and bandaged. Morgan knew the emotional toll on both of them would leave more lasting results than the physical ones.
"I'm sorry," Derek said as the doctor exited the curtained area. He held Emily's hand, feeling like he'd let them both down when they'd needed him the most. "You said she was close. I should've stuck with you, but we found that dairy truck down the block and I thought she'd ditched it for another car. I figured she was gone."
She hadn't heard Morgan berate himself quite so badly before. At least not since the night Ellie's father had been killed. "I'll go up, you go down," Emily repeated the words she'd said to him at the apartment building out on the fire escape.
He eyed her curiously for a moment and then his nostrils flared. "You knew she'd go up, didn't you?" Morgan asked.
Emily squeezed his hand lovingly, pleadingly. "Going to higher ground, gaining the upper hand," she shrugged, but winced a little from the small blaze of pain that hit her left side. "Yeah, I had a hunch she'd be up there," Emily admitted. "I didn't think she'd talk to me if you were around. I knew I had to do things on her terms," she added. "Otherwise," Emily sighed. "It all might have ended a lot worse." She watched him closely, worried about what he was thinking. "Are you mad?"
"Yes," his first answer was accompanied by a small shake of the head. But his hand remained clasped in hers. "But I forgive you," Derek added, leaning over to kiss her.
Michelle watched them, wanting to be a part of their loving union; their forgiveness. But something held her back. "I'm sorry, Emily," she spoke softly. "I'm sorry I rolled my eyes when you tried to tell me you loved me this morning. You can say it any time you want, even at school, and I won't care."
"Hey," Emily's full attention returned to her niece as she kissed the top of Michelle's head. "You know what; maybe we could talk in code at school when I drop you off in the mornings."
"What do you mean?" the girl asked, brows peeked in curiosity.
Derek's brows were spiked in a similar manner as he watched the two people he loved dearly interact. "Well," Emily considered her options. "Maybe I could say something like… good luck on that science quiz. But you and I would both know I was really saying I love you."
The child smiled for the first time all day. "That's silly, but I like it," she agreed.
Someone cleared their throat nearby and seconds later Rossi and Hotch stuck their heads around the curtain. "Everyone decent back here?" Dave asked. His comment eased the tension a little more as he and Hotch stepped toward Emily's bed. "You gave us all quite a scare, kiddo," Rossi gently patted the top of the girl's head, noticing how much she looked like her mother when she smiled. "You too," he added, shifting his gaze to Emily.
Hotch cracked a very small smile as he regarded Emily. "Now I really do have to agree with Strauss that you need some time off," he insisted. With a more serious tone he let her know that JJ and Reid were transporting her parents to the hospital.
It wasn't more than a few minutes after he'd said it that Elizabeth and Joseph Prentiss entered the room, followed closely by JJ and Reid. The four of them crowded around the already cramped space, but no one seemed ready to leave just yet. Elizabeth visibly relaxed upon spotting her daughter and granddaughter. "Agent Jareau let us know you'd been taken to the hospital, but she wasn't sure if…"
"We're fine," Emily was quick to assure her mother.
Joseph pulled a bright pink cell phone from his pocket and handed it to his granddaughter. "I believe a friend of yours has been trying to reach you," he let her know.
Michelle glanced at the phone for a few seconds, reading the messages her friend had sent. "Ellie's worried because she heard about the amber alert on the radio when her foster mom was driving her to school. I should tell her I'm okay." But she turned her attention back to her grandfather for a moment. "Thank you," the girl wasn't about to leave her aunt's side, not even for a hug from her grandparents, but she smiled at him. "You were right grandpa," she said.
"About what, peanut?" he asked.
"About Emily wanting to be a super hero when she grew up," Michelle replied very seriously. "Because she really is one," the child went on. "She didn't let me fall. She held on to me with her super power strength, even when Margaret was hurting her," Michelle concluded. There were bittersweet smiles all around, and even a few faint chuckles in response to the child's way of viewing the situation.
Emily kissed the girl's cheek. And as she watched Michelle text her friend, she thought there was a very fine line between being a super hero and a good parent.
xxx
She opened her eyes to darkness and took several slow, deep breaths to calm her racing heart. It was already several days past their ordeal with Margaret, but every night seemed to play out the same. Emily felt Derek's arms reach for her and she nestled her shoulders against his broad chest. Her eyes focused on the digital clock, the neon numbers reflecting a time that was well beyond midnight. "Another one?" Morgan whispered in her ear.
Her head nodded against his shoulder. She felt his fingers gently trace over the stitches beneath her night shirt. "This time Michelle didn't fall over the wall," Emily explained. She kept reliving that day a hundred different ways in her dreams. "But she watched me being stabbed to death by Margaret."
"None of that happened, Em," he spoke softly again, hoping to calm her demons. Derek wished there were some way to vanquish all the pain of the last few months, especially the last couple days. But all he could do was keep reassuring her. "You saved Michelle and you're alive. That's what matters. Sometimes dreams don't mean what we actually see happening in them. And sometimes they don't mean anything at all." His hand moved away from her side and traveled downward, caressing her belly, inching even further south.
Emily turned to him, pressing her lips to his mouth while he kept up his exploration. The creak of her bedroom door opening caused them both to jump. She turned to watch light pouring in from the hallway. And Michelle was standing there. Emily waved her in, also the same as she'd been doing the last few nights. "Can I sleep in here again?" Michelle asked. She always asked, never assumed.
"I'm sorry," Emily mouthed the words to Derek as the girl climbed in, sinking beneath the warm covers.
Morgan stroked her arm as she lay with her back against him again. "You have nothing to be sorry about," he whispered a reply.
"We haven't really talked about this," she continued. "But you know this is a permanent thing for me, right?" Emily aimed the question at him even as her eyes remained steadfastly focused on the girl curled against her stomach. "I'm in this for the duration," she made herself clear.
Derek nodded and kissed her temple. He knew she was talking about Michelle; about raising the girl, loving her, protecting her. "So am I," he vowed.
xxx
The park was alive that Saturday morning. Fresh new foliage on the deciduous trees, fir and pine needles standing the test of time. Birds chirping and flitting from tree to tree, blue sky with barely a cloud in sight. It was all nearly as sickeningly perfect as the day Emily had described to her sister when Anna had asked about Michelle's graduation. But that day was still years away. Today the girl walked with Emily and Derek, none of them up for anything more strenuous like their usual run or bike ride. Not even a week past their confrontation with Margaret, they were still dealing with the aftermath, but they needed a break from the confines of home.
"I think we should get ice cream," Derek suggested. "There's that little stand at the east end of the park."
"Really?" Michelle asked; a hopeful grin blooming on her face. At night the memories of her time with Margaret turned into bad dreams, but during the day she and Emily were both dealing with things one step at a time.
"You can't heal everything with food," Emily noted.
He took her contrary nature in stride, snatching up her hand and kissing her palm. "I'm not trying to heal everything," Derek countered. "But I am trying to help Michelle and you get through this. And I'm hoping to start make some happy memories for the three of us."
Emily stopped and turned to face him. "I'm sorry," she let out a breath, hearing her sister chide her for apologizing so much. When the two of them took a second to look around they smiled. They were standing near a familiar large maple tree, almost in the exact spot where he'd kissed her that first time in the fall. She remembered that kiss ending with her running from him, both literally and figuratively. But she'd finally stopped running.
"I guess we should really get back to our sit-up regime if this ice cream in the park is going to become a regular thing for us," Emily joked.
Morgan grinned. "I'll gladly do sit-ups with you any day of the week," he informed her.
"Oh, boy," Emily groaned. "You never warned me about your corny side."
"There's my corny side, my slightly nerdy side, my very suave side…" he playfully turned left to right as he listed each quality. "I've got a lot of sides," Derek concluded, pulling her close again. "You think you're ready for this whole package, the good and the bad?"
She nodded, recalling the way he'd already accepted everything about her, for better or worse. "I am," Emily easily agreed. She leaned in to capture his lips in a manner very different from their first kiss. Their encounter seven months ago had been a surprise, a rush of pent up emotions; a dare, a thirst for something they both wanted but were afraid to voice. But now their kisses were relaxed, gentle, promising; and sometimes needful, but only in the pursuit of reaffirming their love.
Michelle tugged at her aunt's arm, ending their all-too-brief union. "Look, its grandma and grandpa," the girl said, pointing further down the trail.
Eyes following Michelle's finger, Emily spotted her parents walking toward them. They were each dressed in casual clothing, jeans, sporty cotton shirts and comfy walking shoes. They were hardly recognizable as her parents. She immediately looked to Derek. "You did this?" Emily asked.
Morgan nodded. "You haven't talked to them since the hospital on Monday. I figured they must be wondering how you are, and how Michelle's coping."
"They could have called," Emily replied, watching as her niece skipped ahead to welcome her grandparents. She was glad to see the girl so happy. Emily was pleased to watch Michelle wander further than a few feet away from her, which hadn't been the case all week. But she still felt conflicted.
"You could have called too," Derek countered. "Will you try talking to her?
She wanted to reply with a definite yes, but Emily wasn't confidant about that. "I don't know," she honestly relayed. "My mother and I keep having these small moments where it almost feels normal between us, but then I just never know what to say to her."
He slid his arm around her shoulders as they steadily made their way along the trail to join Michelle, and Emily's parents. "Did you ever think that maybe she feels the same way," Derek said. "Maybe one of you just needs to take that first step," he suggested.
Emily greeted her parents. There was a quick kiss to her cheek from her father. A smile from her mother. She found herself longing for another hug from the woman, like the one her mother had offered the morning Michelle went missing. But instead she found herself asking, "Can we talk?"
The former ambassador nodded and followed her daughter over to a wooden bench which resided off to one side of the wide trail. They each sat down. They watched Michelle standing between her grandfather and Derek beside the shimmering pond. "How are you doing?" Elizabeth finally asked, facing her daughter.
"I'm pretty good," Emily replied.
"And Michelle?" the older woman inquired.
A shrug rose Emily's shoulders. "I think she's okay." In support of her words, a trickle of laughter flowed their way and they both looked up to see Michelle hiding behind her grandfather while Derek tried to grab hold of her. When he finally got close, Morgan tickled the girl and the three of them laughed louder. "She's a pretty resilient kid. I only hope I can pick up where Anna left off. Those are some big shoes to fill."
Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. "You'll do great."
"I'll need help," Emily sighed, not as confident.
"I imagine Derek will be there to help," her mother replied.
"Yes," Emily knew that fact was more than definite after the last five nights of him being by her side. "But I was also thinking about help from you and daddy. Michelle needs grandparents in her life, and you're the only ones she's got. And when I go back to work Derek and I will be gone for days at a time. It would be nice to know she's being looked after. Nice to know she's safe with her grandparents."
"We'd be happy to do that," Elizabeth agreed.
Emily closed her eyes for a second and breathed out slowly. She was glad to have her mother be so agreeable, but she hated how professional their conversation sounded. Remembering what Derek had said about one of them taking the first step spurned her forward. "You were right about us finding Michelle."
"Not us, you," the older woman replied. "I did nothing. I didn't know what to do, just like with Anna," she confessed.
"You're wrong, mother," Emily felt the damn begin to crack. "You gave me hope. Your words gave me the strength I needed to find her."
"You would've found that strength without me."
She shrugged. "I don't know, maybe… but knowing that you were there, knowing that you believed in me," Emily gulped. "It made a huge difference, mother."
"Emily, I need to tell you…"
"Don't, we can leave it. It's…" Emily paused, not exactly sure how to forgive and forget. But she wanted to try. She wanted to try harder than Margaret.
"No," Elizabeth reached out to take her daughter's hand. It was such a simple gesture of affection, but one she'd rarely partaken of. "You said you could never forgive me for keeping the truth from you," her words suddenly spilled forth. "I can live with that. But I want you to know that I've tried to regret what I did. And part of me does, because of how much I hurt your father," she confessed.
"But…" she nearly choked on the simple word. "How could I ever regret having you?" Elizabeth's head shook to convey that it had never been a possibility for her. "I love you, your father loves you. Charlotte was over the moon becoming a big sister, and she loved you so much these past few months," she took a deep breath. "I only ever wanted to protect you, and that meant I couldn't tell you the truth. Because I never wanted you to think for one second that you weren't wanted or loved."
Instead of waiting idly for the hug she'd desired from her mother, Emily reached out and took it. She wrapped her arms around her mother and held on for a long time, finally pushing the past further into the past. As she sat there Emily was confronted by the voices of her father and her sister. Please don't stay mad at mother forever. I did it because I loved her. "I forgive you, because I love you," she echoed her father's sentiment. "I forgive you, mom."
Both women pulled out of the embrace at the same time. They discreetly tried to swipe tears from their eyes. "You mentioned taking your sister's ashes to Kansas," Elizabeth broached the subject. "To be with Eric?"
"Yes," Emily nodded. "I thought I'd wait until this summer, after Michelle finishes the school year."
"Of course," the older woman agreed that would be best. "Well, your… um, your father," she spoke the words with more confidence. "He and I were wondering if maybe we could go with you on that trip."
"Sure," the answer came easily, though Emily was sure the trip would not be. "You're more than welcome. I thought about asking, but I wasn't sure how you'd feel and I guess… well, I think it would be good for all of us," she concluded.
"Emily…" Michelle's sweet voice called out. "Grandma…" the girl persisted, drawing out the syllables in both the names she spoke as she hurried toward them. "Derek says all the ice cream will be gone if we don't get it now," Michelle grabbed one hand from each of them and pulled, insisting that the two women get to their feet.
They obligingly followed Michelle's lead and the three of them rejoined Derek and Joseph who were still congregated by the edge of the pond. "I think we should be more worried that Derek will eat all the ice cream," Emily teased him as she grasped his hand with her free one, the other still firmly locked in Michelle's grasp.
Derek winked at her. "A valid concern," he played along.
Michelle kept hold of her aunt and grandmother's hands as she walked between them, like the link in a chain that had been newly repaired. "Did you know that Emily makes the best pancakes?" she asked the older woman. "My mom taught her how, except Emily sometimes adds chocolate chips. Mommy never did that, but they're really good. I think someday you and grandpa should come over to have breakfast with us and she'll make them."
Elizabeth nodded. "I'd like that very much," she told her granddaughter; slowly letting go of her pain, and of the past. Slowly learning what it meant to be alive again for the first time in many years.
"I like chocolate ice cream the best," Michelle rambled on. "What's your favorite ice cream, grandma?"
"Definitely chocolate," Elizabeth agreed.
The girl's eyes lit up. "And that was mommy's favorite."
"Mine too," Emily joined in.
Elizabeth smiled to hear that. It was possibly the first real smile she'd experienced in forty years. "I guess that's one thing all four of us had in common."
"Other than being family," Emily added. She was sad her sister couldn't be there, but she knew Anna lived on in the spirit of her little girl. A child that had cemented all of their lives together as a family. Emily squeezed Derek's hand as she leaned against his shoulder, both of them taking slow steady steps along with the rest of their group. "Thank you," she whispered. "I'm glad you arranged this."
His head shook. "This isn't something I ever could have arranged, or imagined," Derek chuckled, watching the unlikely group as they walked five abreast down the trail; he and Joseph acting like two book ends attempting to contain three intricately written, and uniquely different, female novels. "All I did was give you a little nudge. You're the one who found forgiveness in your heart." Morgan kissed her cheek. "Because that's just the kind of person you are."
The End
Well, I guess that means this one is finished. Thank you all for reading. Special thanks to those who commented and cheered me on along the way. I already have several one-shot follow ups plotted for this. They'll eventually be posted under my Maze of Moments heading, if anyone is interested.