9. Valeria

Trev proved right: by the end of the week, his failed proposal was old news, and might as well never have happened. This was especially true at the Jeffersonian, where new scenes in a continuing drama cropped up to create a compelling diversion. The fact that the central action took place behind the assistant painting conservator's closed door did not lessen its fascination or curtail the captive audience's ability to follow developments. Valeria Dunbar, Dr. Baer's ex-wife, had an unusually penetrating voice, and, apparently, no compunction about using it at top volume. Her loud complaints, demands and recriminations reached the workroom somewhat muffled by distance and intervening walls, but not to such an extent that the gist of her displeasure was lost. Dr. Baer's responses were less intelligible, more closely resembling the low growl of some aggravated beast with the occasional roar thrown in. Scene endings were generally signaled by the thunderous clap of a slamming door and the staccato click of high heels receding down the main hall.

This week's theme was Dr. Baer's consummate selfishness and small-minded desire to punish his former wife for having had the temerity to leave him. There was some extraordinary opportunity or other of which Valeria might avail herself if only her ex would lend her something by way of support, but this he withheld, out of meanness and spite, if her ranting was to be believed. She was routed on her first attempt to achieve her purpose, but returned to the attack the very next day and the entire scene was re-enacted without, for all that, any greater success on her part. In her furious exit, she very nearly crashed into Bonnie who was innocently returning from a trip to the washroom. "Oh, for heaven's sake!" Valeria shouted, her features flushed and contorted in anger. "Look where you're going, why don't you?"

It was quite a different face Valeria presented the next time she and Bonnie met. The Conservation Room was beginning to empty out for the week-end; interns, fellows and permanent staff members were storing away their instruments and tools, and securing their work stations. Mother-hen Gabby Franklin was rounding up the Friday Night Regulars for their weekly visit to a local bar, and while Bonnie usually made up one of their number, this evening she could, according to her calculations, finish her month-long project of removing the yellow varnish from an early twentieth-century landscape with only a half-hour's more work, and she was eager to be done. She had enjoyed uncovering the brilliant white, deep black and vibrant colors of the painter's original palette, but she had nothing left to learn from the experience and was ready for a new challenge. "I'll catch up with you," she called after Gabby, "if I can."

Bonnie was preparing a new cotton tip for her cleaning wand when Valeria Dunbar stepped over the threshold of the workroom and began looking about her, as if searching for something or someone she'd misplaced. She was, as usual, turned out in an eye-catching rather than tasteful style: her black leather skirt was a tad too short, her snake-skin stilettos a bit too high, and the v-neck of her jersey wrap-top, under a short-waisted jacket, left little doubt as to her assets, draped though they were in numerous gold chains. Her long hair, brushed back off a high forehead, fell in jagged layers, and looked to have not only the color but also the brittleness of straw. She had applied her make-up with her customary heavy hand, obscuring rather than enhancing the natural beauty of her wide, blue eyes, column-straight nose, and full lips. "Excuse me," she called, hailing Bonnie in an unexpectedly cordial manner, "I'm looking for Dolph. You wouldn't happen to know where he is?"

Valeria walked further into the room, as if to spare Bonnie the necessity of shouting her answer, and it was only then that Bonnie noticed the youngster trailing along in her wake. It could only be Danny, the five-year-old son Valeria shared with Dr. Baer, and, as such, the object of much speculation and pity in the workroom. To Bonnie's admittedly inexperienced eyes, Danny seemed smaller and slighter than other children his age, although that could have been the effect of his being out-fitted in clothes that were at least a size too large. His Washington Nationals ball cap came down over his ears, shading his eyes and masking his hair; the cuffs of his zippered sweatshirt had been folded back over his wrists at least twice and the hem of his shorts fell well below his knees. He carried a vinyl backpack, which given the ease with which he wore it, must have been virtually empty. Turning back to his mother, Bonnie said, lamely even to her own ears, "Did you check Dr. Baer's office?"

Valeria nodded and continued to approach. "I knocked, but got no reply."

"He may have stepped out for a minute." Or, given that it was after normal quitting time, he might have left for the day. "Was he expecting you?"

"Yes, that's what's so odd. We had arranged that I would drop Danny off here at five, but I ran late on account of traffic." She came to a stop by Bonnie's easel, and smiled pleasantly. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced, Miss…" She leaned forward to read the small print of Bonnie's ID badge. "…Booth-Hodgins. I'm Val Dunbar, and this…" She motioned the little boy closer, and when he was within reach, relieved him of his cap, and ruffled his fly-away light brown hair. "… is my son, Danny."

"Pleased to meet you both." Bonnie bent forward and peered into Danny's elfin face. He had inherited his father's gray eyes, but none of his boldness. "I'd offer to shake, but…" She lifted her hands and set her gloved phalanges dancing. Danny rewarded her foolishness with a shy smile.

"I really don't know what could be keeping him," Val said, fretfully. "Is he in a meeting, do you think?"

Bonnie suppressed a sigh, and set her cleaning wand aside. "I really couldn't say, Ms. Dunbar. I'm not privy to Dr. Baer's schedule."

"Please, call me Val… er…" She tipped slightly forward, and, narrowing her eyes, read… "Bonnie. I must say, you're super devoted to be staying late on a Friday. And, by the way, that painting looks fantastic, all cleaned up. I can see Dolph is right about your potential."

Bonnie's irritation at having her work interrupted gave way to surprise. "Dr. Baer has mentioned me?"

"Oh, yes. Unless… is there another intern with a hyphenated name? A Higgin-Botham, maybe? I'm terrific with faces, but names…?" She shook her head ruefully.

"No, there's only me." Bonnie's curiosity had been piqued, and she was strongly tempted to ask for particulars, but it went against her principles to stoop to gossip. "I hope you won't think me rude, Val, but I have this small section still to finish…"

"Oh! Yes, of course. I apologize." Instead of moving off, however, she retrieved her vid-screen from an outside pocket of her gargantuan shoulder bag, and, consulting the display, frowned in consternation. She continued to hold the device, but her eyes strayed from the screen, unfocused, while her teeth scraped the deep-pink gloss from her lower lip. At length, she turned a worried, uncertain look down at Danny and muttered a quick, "What to do? What to do?" Her son gazed back at up her, interested but unhelpful.

Val looked up at Bonnie with sudden resolve, a desperate hope in her expression. "Bonnie, I know this is a lot to ask, but you're planning to be here a while longer in any case, and I know Dolph has absolute confidence in you, or, believe me, I would never so much as consider this, but if I don't leave this very minute, I'm going to miss my train, and my very best chance…"

Bonnie sat up in alarm. "Really, Val, I don't think…"

"Dolph is sure to be back any minute," Val went on hurriedly, "And, Danny won't be the slightest trouble. You'll see, you'll barely notice he's here." She smoothed the hair over his crown, and bending down, kissed his forehead. "You be good for Miss Bonnie until Daddy comes for you, okay? Mommy will see you in a few days. Love you." She straightened, and, finding Danny's ball cap still tucked under her arm, fit it back on his head. "Thank you so much for this," she said to Bonnie, all in a rush. "You're a life-saver, that's what you are. A living doll."

Bonnie opened her mouth to object yet again, but Valeria Dunbar was already tottering away at speed toward the open door. She passed through the exit without once looking back.