16. Deflation
Bonnie slowly resumed her seat, her elation ebbing at the discomfort all too clearly written on Dr. Baer's face. When he continued to struggle for words, she said in some concern, "What is it? Danny's all right, isn't he?"
"Yes, yes, he's fine," he answered swiftly, only to hesitate again. "The thing is… I don't mean to be ungrateful, but, in retrospect, I'm beginning to think I should have taken the time off and stayed with Danny myself."
Bonnie's heart, weighed down by confusion and dismay, sank within her. "I'm sorry. I don't understand. I thought the day went so well…"
"From what I've heard — and, believe me, I've had an earful — it couldn't have gone any better. The last twenty-four hours, it's been nothing but 'Miss Bonnie' this and 'Miss Bonnie' that."
She had to bite back a smile. "That can't have been pleasant for you."
He shot her a mildly-reproving look. "The point is, you've made another conquest, Miss Booth-Hodgins. Absurd as it may sound, Danny's formed an attachment to you. He seems to be under the impression that the two of you are fast friends, that you'll be seeing each other regularly. He even mentioned something about your writing a children's book together, a variation on Danny and the Dinosaur."
She nodded. "We kicked a few ideas around. I pitched 'Bonny and the Brontosaurus,' but Danny wasn't really into it. He prefers a boy protagonist."
She'd expected to elicit a hint of a smile at this bit of whimsy, but Dr. Baer's expression grew, if anything, more grave. "I give you credit for the very best of intentions, but, as you admitted yourself, you don't have much experience with small children. You can be forgiven for not knowing how literal they can be. Once you raise their expectations, however casually, they count on you coming through. They're very trusting that way."
Bonnie was having difficulty making heads or tails of this speech. "Are you suggesting, Dr. Baer, that I was just humoring Danny? Making empty promises to him?"
"Given the circumstances, that seems the most likely scenario."
"But it wasn't like that! I genuinely like Danny, and enjoyed spending time with him. I think of us as friends, too."
Dr. Baer gave no indication of being reassured by these remarks. Rather, he drew in a deep breath, and then, went on soberly, "As a father, of course it's gratifying to know Danny made such a positive impression on you, and, naturally, I'd be the last person on earth to deny he's an engaging little boy but…" Again, he seemed to be at a loss. "What I'm trying to say, badly, I'm afraid, is that, while I'm grateful for the friendship you showed Danny on Saturday, I think it's best we leave it at that."
Bonnie was so little prepared for this twist in the conversation that she was not immediately sure she'd understood. "You don't want me to see Danny again?" She was surprised at how much the realization distressed her. "But, why? Do you think I'd be a bad influence?"
Dr. Baer waved this notion away impatiently. "Of course not. As far as influence goes, there's no doubt Danny would benefit from further contact with you. But there's the risk to consider as well as the reward, and, in my opinion, the risk is unacceptable."
He might as well have been speaking in tongues. "I don't follow you. What risk?"
"Miss Booth-Hodgins, I know you mean well, and right now, you don't foresee any problem making time for Danny, but ask yourself this: are you being realistic? You already have considerable demands on your time: your extensive family, your quasi-fiancé, friends and colleagues your own age, all these people have a claim on you. Then, there's your work here, and your supplementary classes. There are only so many hours in a day, and even you need to sleep sometime. You may not think so today, but there will come a time when the novelty has worn off, and it will be inconvenient to have a five-year-old child looking to you for company and attention. Please don't take this as a criticism. I sincerely believe your heart is in the right place, and that you would never willingly hurt Danny in any way, but the danger is there, and, as his father, it's my duty to protect him from harm, however remote.
"You're probably not aware that Danny's in something of a precarious spot, emotionally. He doesn't have a large, loving family to fall back on: no siblings of his own, no grandparents, uncles or aunts on my side, and none to speak of on the other side, either, since Val is estranged from her family. There aren't a lot of adults in his life, particularly women, to interact with him. It's not at all impossible he could grow more attached to you than you bargain for, with disastrous consequences all round. To my way of thinking, that's needlessly courting trouble. I don't know if you can appreciate my concern, but I hope you do."
Dr. Baer's position might have been entirely defensible, but Bonnie was in no state to weigh his arguments carefully. Later, reviewing them dispassionately, she could grant them some validity, but in the moment, she was swamped by the demoralizing feeling of having, once again, been judged out of hand and found wanting: rejected a second time and just as unfairly, too. She was not even to be given an chance to prove herself trustworthy! The verdict was in: she was doomed to fail Danny. Whatever good her friendship might do him was deemed not to be enough to countervail the bad. Dr. Baer had the grace to look apologetic, but that was insufficient comfort. "Yes, I see," she said, striving for a flat, unemotional tone. "You're responsible for Danny's welfare. You have an obligation to do what you feel is in his best interests."
Some of the stiffness drained from Dr. Baer's posture. "Thank you for understanding."
Bonnie stood to go, but she could not quite make herself leave without protest. "I may understand, Dr. Baer, but that is not to say I agree with you. I'm disappointed by your decision, for my own sake obviously but, if you'll forgive a brief lapse of modesty, for Danny's sake, too. I think you short-change both of us, and that's a terrible shame. Still, it's your prerogative as Danny's father to make this decision on his behalf, and I, of course, defer to you. Please know, however, that I'm not happy about it." She nodded a curt farewell, and let herself out, quietly closing the door behind her.