The Keeping of Words | Spencer Reid

38| Milestones

"Poems in a way are spells against death. They are milestones, to see where you were then from where you are now." – Richard Eberhart

On the stage, several people in scholarly robes spoke into the podium. Out on the lawn, their voices echoed from speakers, soft sentences reverberating above the heads of the crowd. The rows of chairs were sprawling, allowing room for friends and families behind the many students at the front. Reid in the eighteenth row back, all the way over on the far side, a stranger on his right and a tree on his left. It was hot with so many bodies outside in May, but the audience managed to stay quiet as one by one names were called.

In blue clad robes they received their diplomas, shaking hands with the dean. The names flowed in and out, small portions of the alphabet. Mina Aldrige, Robert Dunkley, Jose Hernández, Aiden Jostpile, Jesse Montgomery. One by one he watched half-heartedly, until the Rs began. And after Lillian Rector was Bianca Reid. Finally that stage had his full attention as she crossed it, a huge smile on her face as she shook the hand of the dean. He thought his heart might burst with pride when, for a split second, she glanced out his way, not knowing exactly where he was sitting but trusting that he would see her. He did.

After all the speeches concluded and all the students held a piece of paper, the ceremony was finally finished. Hundreds of graduates flooded the lawn, a sea of blue and purple. Reid stood, scanning the crowd as he made his way towards the front of the rows. It was difficult to differentiate faces in the masses, especially since they wore the same clothing, and her height put him at a disadvantage. However, it was quite the opposite for him, and Bianca was able to spot him as he towered over most of her classmates.

She found him as he stood in a small clearing of people, off to the side slightly, and his eyes lit up when he finally saw her. One hand still holding tight to the degree, her walk turned to a run, sprinting towards him before launching herself into his outstretched arms. Puffy velvet sleeves wrapped around his neck as he lifted her, twirling the two of them in a circle on the grass. He was still holding onto her when she stared down at him.

"Say it," she demanded.

"Say what?" He reached up to adjust the absurdly pompous graduation cap she wore, the black tam all Doctorate students were presented with. They looked even more ridiculous when worn by a seventeen year old. When he'd graduated, there was nothing he wanted more than to get out of the academic regalia and go home, but today he didn't mind lingering a little while.

"You know what," Bianca said.

With a laugh, he surrendered to her wish. "Congratulations, Doctor Reid."

The grin on her face widened, her eyes dancing. "Thank you, Doctor Reid."

That slip of tongue he'd made in her apartment before the proposal, his hope that he'd never call her Doctor Brown, was finally realized. While they were in the middle of a crowd, they may as well have been the only two people on the planet as her lips found his.

"Hey, Bianca, get over here!" A few of her classmates were beckoning her from across the lawn, and he reluctantly set her back down, watching as she hurried off to go take photos with her friends. A number of them he recognized from the handful of happy hours or social events she'd brought him along to. They all looked so happy, united in celebration by a common victory, after three years of hard work. This was her moment. Today, he played the role of the supportive husband rather than the graduate, and after seven degrees, he was quite alright with that.

She returned to him, the front of her heavy blue robe now unzipped in the May heat. "I don't care what we do for the rest of the day," she told him, "as long as it involves air-conditioning."