CLANDESTINE : Spencer Reid

21

Everything whips by me and then April is ending. The whole thing is giving me whiplash. The winter months seem longer than anything I've ever experienced, but now it feels like we are halfway through the spring. I've been here less than six months and only now do things feel like they aren't rushing by me.

Caro has yet to set a wedding date. From what I hear through the grapevine about it, Maman isn't coming. That's been solidified. Caro seems to have cooled down about it. At the very least, she seems put together while we are on the phone and hasn't mentioned Maman once this phone call.

"Okay, we're still looking at venues and dates but we are thinking Spring 2008," she says to me on the phone. "We will send out the invitations in early January so you can mark it on your calendar. Tattoo in on you if you must."

"You're being a bit dramatic," I tell her.

I hope she can't hear that I'm running errands. Caro, being an early childhood educator, is always going on about multi-task being and for memory retention. She's right, but I've been waiting to pick up the books by David Rossi for something like two months. They're hard to come by, I guess nowadays since they are an older print run. I'll remember to remember not to flee the country during her wedding.

"Well, you didn't come to my high school graduation or my engagement party, and you aren't coming to my bachelorette party, so you're going to come to this thing," Caro sighs. "If it helps I'll become a serial killer so you have to come and investigate at the venue. At least you'll be there."

I roll my eyes, adjusting the bag I have with books in it, "I'd love to arrest you. Stéphane can walk you up the aisle and I'll walk you right back down it."

"Also, did your birthday gift come in the mail?" I ask.

I sent her a letter, offering to pay for her and Cletus to go to a couple's spa. Her engagement feels like something that she needs major stress relief from. Only because it's her birthday, I also paid for Cletus to go. I hope he gets stuck in a mud bath or something while they are there. Maybe she'll find a cute and kind boyfriend.

"Yeah," Caro says.

I can tell she's upset we aren't getting together. This time, it isn't me. The plan was to do Stéphane and me in November, when our birthdays are, and to do Caro and Bastien in early June since it's about halfway between their birthdays. Bastien has been sent out for training somewhere I'm not even allowed to know with my clearance. Penelope could find out for me, but I'd rather not abuse Hotch's trust like that.

"Listen," I say, sighing, "we will make November a celebration for all four of us, okay? We can do something in New York, even. Something closer to halfway."

I pull my phone away in anticipation of her squeal. She starts to shriek about all the things she can't wait to do, but that it has to be in September and not November, and I only get her off the phone when she has to make dinner.

When I get back to the flat, Estelle is making food. Again. It's been like this every day for the past week. She got permission from the landlord to bring in a deep freezer, and she's stuffed the thing with meal after meal after meal. I swear, she's made something like thirty portions of stew alone, not to count everything else she has cooked.

"You're acting like you're expecting the apocalypse," I point out.

She sways to the music, only turning to look at me, "a summer without me for you is like the apocalypse."

In less than a week she is leaving me, and she won't be back until the first week of September. Her supervisor has swindled some funding, so she has enough money to tour around looking for primary sources. August she'll spend with family, but the rest of her visit is funded. I'm going to get so many patches from her trip.