A/N: Hello again, everyone!
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.
A shout-out to those for reviewing and reading my stories.
I wanted to do something, but I decided to do it until the next chapter.
"Man, how long has it been since we've been to the dog park?" Élise asked Reid as they watched Opal interact with some dogs at the McAdams Dog Park in D.C.
Reid tilted his head, already calculating. "About 453 days…"
Élise snickered. "Mmm…" she looked at her phone and realized it's been almost an hour since they had been here and figured they should pack it in before their dinner reservations. "Time to head home?"
"Yup," he agreed and whispered to Opal to come here, and immediately she cuddled his legs.
Élise petted her fur. "Aw, aren't you so adorable?"
"Aren't you a pretty little girl?" Reid cooed.
Opal growled affectionally.
"Mmm…delicious."
Reid and Élise were now enjoying a romantic dinner at Blue Duck Tavern, a restaurant in the West End neighborhood in the D.C. area. The restaurant is known for its open kitchen design—a working kitchen extended into the dining room. The handcrafted furnishings gave the restaurant a warm and rustic feel and modern American cuisine with the best local, seasonal, and fresh ingredients around.
Reid had a sip of this naturally caffeine-free tea that was the perfect blend of cocoa nibs and vanilla pods. "Mmm…this tea is one of the best I've ever had."
Élise joked, "Coming from you that says a lot."
Reid almost stifled into his cup when he chuckled. He wiped his mouth and continued eating the pasture-raised half chicken.
Élise dabbed her mouth before setting her napkin down and placed her fork and knife on the plate at a 90-degree angle without touching the tablecloth. "I'll be right back;" she got up from her seat and took her clutch with her. Tiptoeing to his side, she whispered, "I need to use the little girl's room."
She pecked his cheek and made her way to the bathroom.
Élise smiled when she had a look at her phone. It was pictures of Opal, Séraphine, and Isaac fast asleep. Setting it to the side by her clutch, she washed her hands for a good thirty seconds and dried them off nearby in one of the dyers. Élise found a small bottle of collagen cream and moisturized her hands with it when she noticed a woman coming in.
It was a light-skin-toned woman in an off-shoulder purple sheath dress; without her heels, she'd be at least five-sevenish and looked like she was in her late teens-to-early-twenties. Her brunette hair was in an updo, and gold jewelry in her hands was her clutch and a wine glass in the other. But she looked a bit disheveled; her hair had a few pieces of hair out of place, and she had dark circled, puffy, and redrimmed eyes.
Élise took a quick side peak, hoping to avoid eye contact, but couldn't help but take a closer look at her.
"Uh, excuse me?" she quickly spoke up. "But, uh…you look familiar."
She scoffed. "Well, of course, I look familiar. I'm Vivienne Lamerly."
Élise's eyes curved her eyebrows. The Lamerly name sounded familiar to her.
"My father just came back from visiting my maternally challenged mother in prison," she slurred. "Mommy dearest is in jail."
Élise turned and asked, "Amelia Lamerly's your mother?"
"Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding," Vivienne imitated a winner guessing the correct answer. "You get 200."
Élise's mouth made a tiny gape. Now she really remembered that name. One of the first major cases involved a woman name Amelia Lamerly, a major D.C. socialite with big connections who's now serving a life sentence for murdering the child she had recently adopted.
"Mmm-hmm…" Élise shook her head, trying not to say anything.
Vivienne blew her nose into her napkin and threw it out in the nearest trash can. She saw the wine glass. "Is that yours?"
"Nope, that's yours," Élise replied.
Vivienne quickly gulped it down. She burped loudly, stuck her tongue out, and grinned.
"All people ever see me for is the daughter of the bitch who murdered her adoptive child," Vivienne ranted. "People are so intolerable. Stupid. And ignorant. That's all I'll ever be known for. The child whose mummy killed her little sibling because she was so damn fraking negligent. Just like she and my oh-so-perfect brother was with me growing up. Cheers to me, baby."
She tried to take another sip but realized her glass was empty, causing her to laugh.
"It's empty," she cackled, almost stumbling to the floor when she did. "At least it's better than the drugs now that I'm twenty-one."
"Careful-careful-careful…" Élise tried to help her to her feet.
Vivienne stumbled her body away. "Thanks much, but I don't need your help. I don't need anyone," she babbled before stumbling out of her bathroom. "Not even going to rehab every freakin' year since this whole tragedy has helped me out."
That part about what she said really stuck a bit of a cord to Élise, striking shudders all over her body and in her head. It was a miracle she was able to walk out of the bathroom and make her way back to her seat.
"Are you okay, honey?" asked Reid. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I think I have," she whispered.
At the breakfast nook, Reid noticed how Élise was more interested in her tablet that she hadn't even taken a spoonful of her oatmeal with fruit and berries. Even if she was into whatever she was interested in, Élise would have taken a bite or two or maybe showed some sort of expression on her face, but instead, she seemed…blank.
Giving Séraphine and Isaac another quick kiss while making his way to her, he stood behind her and stared at an article.
LAMERLY HEIRESS DEAD.
"And this the ghost turned for real…"
Reid analyzed the article—the gift of being able to read 20,000 words per minute—Vivienne Lamerly is the daughter of Charles Lamerly, the deceased power broker who hails from old money, and Amelia Lamerly, the woman Élise helped prosecute for the murder of her adoptive child, who died after taking a fatal drunken fall.
Even long before Amelia Lamerly's arrest and incarceration, Vivienne had had a long history of being in and out of rehab for her problems involving depression, negligence she received as a child and teen, drug usage, eating disorders, etc.
"The ghost is now alive and well," Élise turned her tablet off and gave it to Reid.
Reid set it on the kitchen counter. "You can't blame yourself," he massaged her shoulders, hoping to ease her tensions. "She had problems long before you prosecuted her textbook narcissistic and negligent mother. An overbearing and workaholic father; her brother trying to be the perfect and obedient peacemaker of the family."
"I know," now she had her elbow on the table and her fingers on her temple and cheek. "I know. I just hope her brother won't pick up the bad family traits."
It was just one of those days that Élise decided to take a walk around the park by herself; she insisted on it. It's just one of those days where it felt really cloudy inside Élise's mind since she saw that article.
And now she heard the news from an old associate from Harvard Law, Joy Weston, who had passed away after a drunk driving accident.
"Oh, Élise…" Reid embraced Élise. "It's okay."
Joy helped Élise with an important case that gave her the Silent Eliminating Enforcer nickname. While Élise went on to be a prosecutor-to-judge, Joy was initially a legal aide attorney before becoming a top-ranked defense attorney. Though Élise hadn't heard from Joy in a long time since graduating from Harvard Law, she couldn't believe Joy had developed an alcohol problem.
"Oh, Spencer…" Élise wobbled softly, having her hand over her mouth.
Now Élise had these what-ifs questions running around in her mind. What if Élise reached out to Joy and helped her? Checked her into Spaulding? What if the roles were reversed? What if Joy rejected her? What if…?
Something tugging her leg snapped Élise out of her trance. She looked down, and it was a soccer ball.
"Excuse me!"
A young man who could be in his late teens-to-early twenties cried out; he was with a group of small children with a woman around the same age. He jogged towards her. "Sorry about that, ma'am."
He kicked the ball in their direction, and the woman got everyone playing again.
"Again, sorry about that," he apologized.
Élise shrugged her shoulders. "That's okay."
He did a double head turn and squinted a bit. "I'm sorry, but, uh…you remind me of someone."
Élise adjusted her dark sunglasses and the hoodie over her head. "Oh…?"
"Yeah. This woman...she was one of the driving forces who helped my mom get out of jail after ten years of false imprisonment."
Her mouth fell. She pushed her shades down her nose. "Elijah…?"
Elijah squinted a bit. "How do you know my nam…?" his eyes beamed. "You're Élise Bastien." He started to stutter before going into his sweatpants and pulled out an old newspaper article and unfolded it, revealing it to be an old news clipping of his mother's exoneration.
Élise's and Joy's names were in the article.
"Hey, babe," the woman, who had toffee-color skin, wavy hair, and in gym clothes, jogged to his side. "You okay?"
She looked at the clipping and stared at Élise, who pushed her shades back up her eyes. "Hi…"
Elijah chuckled. "You helped my mom!"
"I am, yeah," said Élise. "How's your mother?"
Elijah answered. "She recently retired from being a school counselor, but she's doing better. I'm attending school on scholarship and…" Elijah couldn't help but hug her. "Thank you so much for helping my mother. She said she'll always be grateful for what you did to get her out of jail."
Élise hugged him back. "You're welcome."
"You actually met the son of the woman you helped exonerate?" an astonished Reid asked as he and Élise were getting ready for bed.
Élise had her fingers folded, staring at the ceiling. "Mmm-hmm. Now he's attending Georgetown on an academic scholarship. He's even thinking about going to law school after graduation."
"Looks like someone's been inspired by you," Reid smirked.
Élise smirked sheepishly and announced, "He's even invited me to have lunch with his mother."
"Are you going to?"
Élise picked herself up a bit. "I don't know, honestly."
"Why not?" Reid wondered.
Élise lifted her shoulders. "Again, I don't know."
"I think it would be good if you did," Reid insisted.
Élise pursed her lips and cocked her mouth to the side.
The Bastien-Reid were casually dressed: simple tees, jeans, sneakers, and they were one of the first to arrive at Charlotte's first birthday party.
Reid knocked on the door a couple of times, and the family waited nine seconds before someone answered.
It was Bobby in a soft pink short-sleeve linen shirt, dark chinos, and sneakers.
"That's a nice color on you, Bobby," Reid grinned.
Bobby pinched his shirt and chuckled. "In honor of my special little girl," he allowed them into the house; the family made their way inside and stepped into the family room.
There was Maeve with BJ, Charlotte, and two elderly couples in their late-fifties-to-early-sixties; undoubtedly Maeve and Bobby's parents.
"Hello, families!" Élise greeted.
Maeve had Charlotte on her lap; she was in a sparkling pink dress with a gold toy tiara in her hair.
"Aw, don't you look so cute in your little tiara?" Élise took Charlotte's hand and gushed. "Like the little princess you are."
Charlotte gurgled, "Tanks…!"
Élise's jaw dropped. "S-she talkin'?"
Maeve nodded her head and smiled.
Guests from Maeve and Bobby's workplaces, and new neighbors, gathered in the backyard for Charlotte's first birthday.
"Happy Birthday to you," Bobby and Maeve sang as they brought out Charlotte's pink smash cake.
Everyone joined in, "Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday, Charlotte. Haaapppy Biiirrrtthhhday to yoouuu!"
Charlotte blew out the lit candle in a couple of puffs, and everyone cheered.
Élise decided to see Francine Parker, the woman she helped exonerate for the murder of her child she was wrongly incarcerated for.
She slammed the passenger door and watched Marshal Johnson park the Caddy to try and blend in with the other residents' cars. Élise brushed off the chills she felt in her shoulders as she paced up the half-missing stone pathway to the single-level traditional colonial-style house.
"You can do this," Élise said to herself, trying to give herself some confidence. "You can do this. And if anything, you can press the secret alarm button you were given by Marshal Johnson, and he'll be there in less than two-three top minutes."
She gulped and rang the doorbell. Élise already felt antsy, tapping her foot.
Finally, someone answered the door, and it was Elijah; he had an instant smile.
"Ms. Bastien," he allowed Élise inside the house. The interior was quaint but still had a homey feeling. He led her to the small dinette, pulled out her seat, and gently pushed her in.
Élise asked, "So, what are we having for lunch?"
"Veggie and turkey wraps with hummus," said Elijah. "And homemade sweet tea."
"Elijah?" a woman's voice came coming from the backyard porch. She carried a handbasket of flowers and was dressed in a knee-length short sleeve summer dress with flats. Her brunette hair was cut bluntly to her chin, and her reading glasses balanced on her nose. "Did you get lunch set up…?"
She could barely close her mouth when her gray eyes set on Élise, who awkwardly waved to her.
"Élise…"
"Hello, Francine."
Francine set the basket on the countertop. "I'm so glad you made it. Elijah told me he invited you to have lunch with us one of these days, but I never…"
Elijah spoke up. "I wanted to keep it a surprise."
Élise steadily got up. "A lot has happened these past few years, huh?"
"All thanks to you," Francine allowed a tear to fall and sniffed. "When all this happened, everyone thought I was guilty. Police, all the people in the hospital, social services, the judge. Hell, even I thought I was guilty of hurting my Felix. I heard the news about Joy. You two heard me when no one else would, used your resources to help prove my innocence, and got me out after ten years."
Francine embraced Élise. "I'll always be grateful for that."