CH 88 Comedown
In their way, the days following Bonnie's return to DC were as hectic as her final days in Paris had been.
She had so much catching up to do, beginning with her family. Bonnie had Skyped twice with her grandfather while she'd been away, but those calls had been necessarily brief, and Booth was understandably eager to hear in greater detail how her presentation and subsequent interviews had gone. For their part, her mother and brothers were less interested in that aspect of her trip, and more so in hearing about her time spent with Angela. Christine was particularly concerned about the state of her mother-in-law's health and spirits, and Bonnie was happy to ease her mind on that score. It was a pleasure, too, to see her family's faces light with happy surprise at the 'small tokens of affection' that Angela had sent along for them.
Co-workers, cousins, friends, all were avid to welcome her back and get the full scoop on her triumph from her own lips. Gabby and several other colleagues banded together and whisked her out to lunch her first day back; Trev, out of consideration for her jet lag, invited her to meet him for one quick drink after work, which somehow turned into a second and then dinner; it was Vanna, the next day, proposing to treat her to lunch, and Eddie swinging by the compound Friday evening to satisfy himself, as he put it, that she hadn't gotten too big a head.
Amid all this celebration and reconnecting, Bonnie might easily have lost track of the WizKidz movie tickets going on sale if not for the reminder that popped up on her calendar. As it was, she was in plenty of time to score four tickets for opening weekend Sunday, and was patting herself on the back when it occurred to her that, at only three days away, she was maybe giving Caro insufficient notice. Caro's reply to that concern was "Are you joking? Sunday is great! The sooner we go, the sooner I'll stop hearing about it! I'll get Rudolph's OK for Danny tomorrow. Thanks, Bonnie! You're a peach!"
As for Bear, he was out of the office the morning of her return, but had left her a painting to evaluate and a treatment plan to draft. The painting was a striking work, a bold, richly-colored self-portrait by a German female expressionist whose name Bonnie recognized but whose work she didn't know well. At some one hundred and fifty years old, the painting's surface was in remarkably good condition, but the edges of the canvas showed a number of worrisome tears, and, in one corner especially, the fabric had frayed to such an extent that some form of patchwork would be required. Such a large mend presented an interesting technical challenge, and she was engrossed in considering possible solutions when Bear appeared at her station.
She was glad to see him, and didn't try to hide it. An answering smile got away from him, and, as if to make up for it, in lieu of welcoming her back, he said drily, "I see you've made me look bad." At Bonnie's blank stare, he supplied, "That assortment of fancy French chocolates in the break room?"
"Oh, that!" Bonnie chuckled, relieved he wasn't serious. "That was just to thank everyone for their encouragement and help."
"Hmm," Bear pretended to grumble. He proceeded to inquire how she felt her interviews had gone, complimented her on the one article he'd been able to read online, and volunteered that the word from Henri Perrin was that the Louvre had been impressed by how deftly she'd handled the media. That subject exhausted, Bear briskly switched gears and asked for a preliminary report on the Blau self-portrait, a question Bonnie understood to signal that the page had been turned on La Coupe d'amour, and they were on to a new chapter.
It had been a cordial conversation, one not substantially different from any Bear might have had with anyone else in the workroom, but just enough more personal to lift Bonnie's heart. He appeared to have thawed toward her, if only slightly, but she was encouraged all the same and dared to hope it was a sign that Bear was finally coming around and letting go of whatever grudge he'd been holding against her. It was early days; she expected to have to stay patient and strong a while longer, but, for the first time since the gala, she felt a surge of her old confidence that things between them would, eventually, work themselves out.
The weekend rolled around. Despite a strong inclination to spend Saturday quietly at home, Bonnie acted on the promise she'd made herself to pitch in more on Freya's campaign, and presented herself at headquarters for assignment. Trev had brought her up to speed over dinner on the latest poll figures and projections: with her nearly double-digit lead over her Democratic opponent, Freya was the clear frontrunner, and the odds-on favorite to win, but no one was making the mistake of being lulled into complacency. Candidate, staff, volunteers, all were still campaigning hard, and Bonnie's offer to help out in whatever capacity needed was gratefully received.
At her prompting, Trev had also filled her over dinner on how matters stood between him and Vanna. He hadn't yet told her of his feelings, he confessed; the time wasn't right. His father's death still weighed heavily on him, as it did on all his family, especially his mother. For the moment, he was channeling all his energy into supporting her and the bid to carry on her husband's work that sustained and kept her going. Vanna was committed to Freya's victory as well, and their common cause kept them close, collaborators, allies. That bond was enough to see him through the election, now less than two weeks off. After that… well, he'd see how it went.
Sunday was blustery and cool under cloud-flecked skies of autumn blue. Bonnie had arranged to pick up Caro and the boys on the way to the cineplex, and arrived to find all three waiting outside the Jolicœur's narrow row house, the boys tearing across the minuscule front yard in a game of tag. They let out a cry when she stepped out of the SteerE, and raced toward her full tilt, Danny in the lead. He threw his arms around her hips while Luc, less familiar with her, pulled up inches short and stood grinning from ear to ear. Bonnie returned Danny's hug, and then reached out to ruffle Luc's dark hair. "Wow! That's some kinda welcome, boys! You almost bowled me over!
All right," she went on, as Danny released her. "Let's have a look at you two. I haven't seen you in months!" The boys stood happily for inspection, shoulder to shoulder, their little chins raised. "Have you been eating magic beans? You're shooting up like weeds!"
Caro had come up behind the boys, and, with a smile for Bonnie, laid her hands gently on their shoulders. "Luc's grown a whole inch just since summer," she said proudly. "And Danny's gotten taller, too."
"I'm almost as big as Luc now!" Danny said, sidling closer to his friend. "See?"
"I do!" In the eight weeks since she'd seen him last, Danny had gained an inch or more in height and added a few crucial pounds, so that, while he was still on the small size for his age, it was far less noticeable. His pixie face had filled out some, his skin was pink, his eyes alight; he wasn't only doing well, he was thriving. Bonnie wondered how much that had to do with his finding himself, at long last, in a loving, safe environment both at home and after school, and blessed the day that Caro and Luc had come into his life. "So, who wants to see a movie?"
They piled into the car, and when they were all strapped in and on their way, Bonnie drew a shopping bag onto her lap. "You remember, Danny, I told you I was going to Paris…"
"Danny's daddy went to Paris," Luc put in. "Danny stayed with us while he was gone."
"I heard about that. Did you have fun?"
They nodded fervently. "It was the best!" Danny said.
"And we were good as gold, right, Mama? That's what you said to Mr. Baer."
Caro smiled at her son, and then at Bonnie. "It's the truth."
"Well, that's very good to hear. So, anyway, while I was in Paris, I was out doing some shopping, and I saw something in one of the store windows that made me think of you."
"You did? What is it? Can we see?" they said, speaking over each other.
Bonnie emptied the bag of the t-shirts she'd bought them, a somewhat larger, white one for Luc and a light blue one for Danny, both featuring on the front the same kid-friendly T-rex in a red-and-white striped shirt, a jaunty black beret on his head and a baguette neatly tucked under one short arm. The boys shouted in pleasure at the sight of them, and begged to be able to put them on right away. Fortunately, the shirts were of a size to fit over the long-sleeved jerseys they wore under their jackets, and the change was accomplished with minimal fuss before they left the car for the theater.
They found the lobby mobbed with overexcited grade-schoolers and their minders, the crowd swarming the concession stand so thick, Bonnie sent Caro and the boys ahead to secure seats while she procured a large tub of popcorn and some sodas. It proved a wise precaution, as there were hardly two seats left together, let alone four, when she finally caught up with them. Like their age-mates, Danny and Luc were too hepped up to sit quiet and still while they waited for the show to start, and it was only with the lights' going down that a hush descended over the audience.
Bonnie had low expectations for WizKidz, the latest variation on the perennially child-pleasing theme of preteen friends with hidden powers battling the forces of evil, but the story unfolded with such sly humor and wit, much of it above the children's heads, that Bonnie found herself enjoying it. As for the boys, they were mesmerized, so completely absorbed in the action sequences, the popcorn and drinks went largely untouched.
The movie over and the world once again preserved from certain destruction, Bonnie and Caro guided the boys into the flow of patrons exiting the theater and back out into the lobby. Bonnie drew them to a halt in the approximate center of the vast space and asked, "Anybody up for ice cream? I know I am! There's a Sweet Scoops here…" She motioned behind her to the concession with its small group of tables. "Or, if you know a better place nearby, we could go there."
The boys were in favor of immediate gratification, and so Sweet Scoops it was. Their timing couldn't have been better; no sooner had their order been filled than a table for four came free. They settled down to revisiting the movie's highlights over their treats — plain ice cream for the women, kid sundaes for the boys. In truth, Bonnie'd been reluctant to buy Danny a sundae, not on account of the expense but because she suspected much of it would go to waste. He amazed her, though, by keeping pace with Luc spoonful for spoonful, and while he didn't quite finish his serving, he came very close. Bonnie could scarcely believe her eyes. "You guys were hungry!" she said, as Caro passed each of the boys a towelette so they could wipe their face and hands.
"It was dee-licious!" Luc declared, in so emphatic a manner, Danny burst into giggles.
"All right, now," Caro said evenly. "Calm down. Is there anything else you'd like to say to Bonnie?"
"Thank you, Bonnie!" they chorused dutifully.
"You're very welcome. Happy belated birthday, Luc!"
They were negotiating the parking lot, Bonnie and Caro each holding one boy by the hand, when Luc piped up, "Mama, could we stop and show Bonnie our school on the way home? It isn't far."
"I don't know." Caro shot Bonnie a questioning look. "It'd take us out of our way, but it is fairly close."
"I'd love to see it," Bonnie said, to the boys' cheers. She thought it incredibly sweet that they were so proud of their school, but she soon realized as they walked her quickly past the school entrance, the windows of their first-floor classroom and around the side of the building that what the little devils really wanted to show her was the school playground. In their defense, it was a very inviting play space, packed with structures in primary colors for climbing, swinging and sliding. When they begged to be allowed to go play for only a little, Caro gave them fifteen minutes.
She led Bonnie to a bench with a good view over the area. "You'd think they'd get enough of this during the week!"
"I imagine they like the novelty of having it all — or practically all — to themselves."
"I can see that," Caro conceded. They sat in companionable silence a few moments watching the boys clamber up to the play fort's walkways and down its twisting slides. Then, with a quick look and a smile across her shoulder, Caro said, "I can't thank you enough for today, Bonnie. It's been a wonderful afternoon."
Bonnie sighed with satisfaction. "It has been, hasn't it? We should do this again, sometime soon. Another movie, or, better yet, a museum. There are so many great ones to choose from…" She was warming to the subject, a list already forming in her head, when she noticed that Caro was biting her lip, and avoiding her eye. "Caro?" When Caro didn't immediately answer, she pressed, "What is it? What did I say?"
Caro shook her head, and briefly met Bonnie's gaze, an apology in her eyes. "I like you, Bonnie, very much. There's nothing I'd like better than for us to be good friends."
"I feel the same…"
"And it's obvious you love Danny," Caro went on as if Bonnie hadn't spoken. "And Danny clearly thinks you hung the moon…"
As if to illustrate her point, Danny waved in their direction from the highest of the platforms, and called out, "Bonnie! Caro! Watch this!" He crawled into the wide mouth of a tube, Luc right behind him, and together, like a two-man luge team, they corkscrewed to the ground and out the bottom opening. Bonnie raised her hands high and applauded. "Way to go!"
"Eight more minutes!" Caro cautioned as they raced off again. She turned back to Bonnie reluctantly, her discomfort easy to read. "It pains me to say this, Bonnie, but I got the very strong impression from Rudolph that he wasn't happy about Danny coming out with us today."
A chill that had nothing to do with the falling mercury iced Bonnie's skin. "What do you mean? What happened?"
"It was like this: when Rudolph came to pick Danny up on Friday, I asked him — out of Danny's hearing, naturally — if he was okay with Danny coming to the movie with us, and probably going out for ice cream after. He was fine with all of it. More than fine, really; grateful. But then, you know how he is, he wanted to pay his share, reimburse me for Danny's ticket, and so I explained — thinking nothing of it! — that there wasn't any need since the tickets, the ice cream, it was all your treat as a belated birthday gift for Luc. You should've seen his face change, Bonnie! It was like all the light and warmth drained out. I asked him what was wrong, and he got all stiff and said, nothing, only that, in the future, he'd appreciate it if I gave him all the particulars upfront before asking him to decide. I was mortified! Of course, he was right. I should've been more specific, but I just automatically assumed he'd have no problem with you being involved!"
"You didn't happen to mention our plans to him back in September? At Luc's party?"
"I could've sworn I did, but he said no."
Bonnie let out a long, weary breath. "I'm sorry, Caro, I really am. Things between me and Bear… they've been strained for going on seven weeks now, and the worst of it is, I don't even know why. Just lately, I thought we'd finally turned a corner, but apparently I was wrong."
Caro reached for one of Bonnie's hands, and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry, too, Bonnie. Sorry for your trouble, and sorry, for myself and the boys, that there won't be any more days like today, at least for the time being. You understand, don't you? However much I may sympathize with you wanting to see Danny and his wanting to see you, Rudolph is his father, and has the right to decide who he will and won't associate with. I may not agree with or like his choices, but, as Danny's caregiver, I have a responsibility to respect his wishes. Our arrangement is based on trust, and if Rudolph feels he can't trust me…"
"He'll make other arrangements. I understand, and, believe me, I'd hate for that to happen as much as you. I'm sorry for the friction I caused between you and Bear, Caro. I didn't mean for you to get caught in the middle, and I promise it won't happen again."
The sun was low on the horizon, throwing the long shadows of trees across the playground. It would be dark in half an hour. Bonnie stood, and, Caro following her example, the two women shared a hug. "Thanks, Caro, for being honest with me. Take good care of yourself and the boys."
"Hang in there, Bonnie," Caro returned. "There are better days ahead." She stepped back, and, cupping her hands around her mouth, shouted, "Luc! Danny! Your fifteen minutes are up! Yes," she said when they whined, "You really have to, and, no, not even another second. Time to go home."