48. Windfall

"I'll just go on ahead, and get us a table," Val said, beaming with pleasure. "Meet you down there!"

Bonnie watched her out of sight before turning back into the studio. Bear had finished clearing away their solvents and tools, and was repositioning the easel so La Coupe d'amour would face fully out into the gallery during their absence. She moved forward to lend him a hand. "What have I let myself in for?" she wondered aloud.

"Indigestion's an easy bet," Bear said, not quite under his breath.

"You have any idea what this is about?"

"She wants something, that's obvious." He stepped back, examined the easel's placement, made a minor adjustment. "Whatever it is, my advice to you is: say 'no.' She'll be looking to take advantage somehow." He leveled a stern gaze her way. "Don't let her con you."

Like last time. The words, though unsaid, were plain enough to read in his eyes, and remained in the forefront of her mind as Bonnie stepped into the bustling cafeteria. Even more than an hour after noon, the large dining area was still chaotic with movement and noise, and it was a moment before she spotted Val waving at her from the corner table she'd managed to snag for them. Bonnie worked her way over, held up a time or two by tray-burdened patrons wandering in search of unoccupied seats. "Wow!" she said, when she finally reached Val. "It's really packed today. It's a wonder you found a table!"

"I know! It's crazy! Look, since lunch is on me, you hold down the fort, and I'll go through the line. You wanted a salad, right? Any particular kind? And what about a drink?"

"A chef salad, please, if they have it. If not, whatever looks good. And bottled water."

"That's easy." Val rummaged in her bag, eventually removing first her wallet, and then a cardboard mailing tube which she held out to Bonnie. "Danny's drawings. You might like to look them over while you're waiting. Back in a flash!"

Bonnie lost no time settling herself in a chair and teasing several sheets of off-white construction paper from the tube. There were four drawings in all, each featuring a boy and a t-rex engaged in various fun activities. Danny hadn't downplayed any of the dinosaur's fearsome characteristics and yet it was precisely the dinosaur's ferocious aspect which lent the drawings their humor and charm. In one, the creature held its saw-toothed jaws wide open but in laughter, not aggression, and, in another, it was trying to move a game piece with its ludicrously short forearm, while in a third it had accidentally punctured a soccer ball with a kick from its talon-tipped leg. The fourth, showing the t-rex using its monstrous head to push the boy on a swing, was also delightful, until Bonnie noticed two children pictured cowering behind a tree.

"So, what do you think?"

At Val's sudden reappearance, the paper edges slipped from Bonnie's fingers, and rolled in on themselves. She swept the sheets up, making room on the table for Val's tray. "They're wonderful," she said, fitting the drawings carefully back in their tube. "Especially for a five-year-old. Danny's very gifted."

"He is, isn't he?" Val shared out the food, utensils and napkins, and slid into her seat. "I can't tell you how excited he is about this project of yours! He spends hours on every picture."

"It shows. The detail is really astounding." She saw again in her mind's eye the frightened children of the playground scene. "What's the story with the boy and the t-rex, do you know? We talked about a toy dinosaur coming to life, but that doesn't seem to be the direction he's taking."

Val stopped unwrapping her sandwich to look at Bonnie blankly. "There's supposed to be a story? I thought the idea was just to show the kind of fun things a boy could do if he had a pet dinosaur." She shook her head helplessly. "He hasn't said anything about a story to me. I'll ask him for you, or, better yet, you could come over to our place sometime and talk to him yourself. I know he'd love that."

The invitation seemed innocent enough on the face of it, and had it been issued by another woman Bonnie would likely have accepted. As it was, she had the niggling suspicion she was being set up for an afternoon or evening of free babysitting. "How about we agree on a time when Danny and I can chat on the phone? That's easier to arrange."

"Sure, that'll work. I'd suggest tonight but Dolph has Danny for the weekend."

"Monday night, then? Around seven? What's the number?"

That settled, they turned their attention to their lunches or, at least Bonnie did. Val popped the odd bit of crust in her mouth, but otherwise ignored her sandwich, much as her son might have done. "I really appreciate it, you know, the interest you've taken in Danny," she said, with a tentative smile. "Not many people would go to so much trouble for a boy they hardly know."

"You give me too much credit, Val. All I've done is praise his work as it deserves and offer some encouragement. That hardly qualifies as 'trouble.'"

"Not that part, no," she conceded. "It's that other thing." She leaned in and fixed Bonnie with a look meant to be meaningful. "You know."

Bonnie, mystified, searched Val's face for clues, but found none. "Excuse me?"

Val retreated slightly. "Look, your name never came up, but it had to be you who recommended Danny. She knew things about him only you could have told her."

Bonnie carefully lowered the forkful of greens she'd speared. "Seriously, Val, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"If that's how you want to play it, fine by me. I get that some people don't want recognition for the good deeds they do. Let's just say, then, I'm grateful to whoever the woman is who brought Danny to the attention of the Young Artist Foundation."

Bonnie searched her memory, but failed to place the organization. "Can't say I've heard of it."

"They provide scholarship aid and other kinds of support for youngsters who show exceptional artistic promise. In Danny's case, they've given me vouchers for up to four sessions of summer camp at the Jeff, all expenses paid. They're even throwing in a little extra cash for meals and art supplies."

"Wow! That's… fantastic!" Happy as she was prepared to be for Danny's sake, Bonnie could not shake the feeling that something didn't quite add up. "One thing, though: are you saying the foundation reached out to you directly? That's not usually how these things work."

"I know! I thought, at first, it had to be a scam of some kind. I mean, who just calls up out of nowhere and offers your child a scholarship? I was about to cut the woman off, but then she mentioned Danny's love of dinosaurs, and I realized it wasn't some telemarketer making a random call. So, when she asked me if I'd be willing to discuss the matter over lunch, I thought why the heck not? It didn't hurt, either, that she wanted to meet at Le Flambeau. I figured chances were good anyone who could afford such a pricey restaurant wasn't out to con me, and, even if she was, at least I'd get a fabulous meal out of it. Have you ever eaten there? The place is incredible."

"Yes. Yes, it is." Like Val, Bonnie'd been invited to dine there not long before, and, she was beginning to suspect, by the very same person. "So, you met with the foundation's representative. Miss…? Ms…?"

"Mrs., I think. Yeah, Mrs. Albert Vincent. A very nice lady, kind of old but stylish. She's an artist, too, a painter she said. She's made it big enough now, she wants to help out talented young artists, to pay back, in a way, the artists who encouraged and supported her when she was starting out. She had me bring along examples of Danny's artwork, and she asked a lot of personal questions, so, turns out, it wasn't a done deal after all, but more of an interview. Thank goodness, I didn't blow it!"

"I'm sure you didn't have a thing to worry about, Val." At most, Rosa would have wanted to ascertain how far she could trust her grandson's mother; the financial aid would always have been forthcoming in some manner. Though Bonnie thought she knew the answer, she asked to be sure, "There're no strings? No conditions?"

"None. Or nothing unreasonable, anyway. I'm supposed to send the Foundation at least one picture of Danny and his camp project at the end of each session, and Mrs. Vincent said she might be in touch from time to time to check on Danny's progress. And, the best thing of all, if he continues to show promise, and grows as an artist, she thinks the Foundation will probably renew their support!"

"Then it's practically guaranteed." Bonnie tried to infuse the proper enthusiasm into the words, but it was an effort. She was in an awkward spot: privy to a maneuver Rosa had never meant her to discover, and which she would have been happier knowing nothing about. It threatened to land her again in the middle of a family squabble, where she had no desire to be. "How did Dr. Baer take the news?"

"Oh, him!" Val scowled down at her plate, and picked at her chips. "I haven't told him yet, and I'm not sure I'm going to. He'll only make a big stink, and insist I return the money and vouchers."

Bonnie expected no less, but then, she had reasons Val could not know. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he's proud as the devil, that's why! He'll call it 'charity,' and act like it threatens his manhood, or something! Plus, you may have noticed, he's insanely possessive when it comes to Danny. You'd think he'd be grateful that someone wanted to do something nice for his son, but no! He has to be the big man, the sole provider. Heaven forbid Danny should have anyone else to rely on! Well, this time, I'm the one who made something good happen for Danny, and I'm not going to let him ruin it!" At nearby tables, heads swiveled in their direction, some in curiosity, others in disapproval. Val returned stare for stare, but did subside somewhat. She took a bite of her sandwich, and regarded Bonnie speculatively as she chewed. "I suppose you'll tell him, if I don't."

Bonnie shook her head. "Not my concern. But he's bound to start asking questions once Danny goes off to camp. Unless, of course, you have your own earnings or savings to draw from?"

"No, nothing like that." She sighed. "I may as well tell him tonight. He'll probably raise the roof, but, you know, so what? He can't force me to go back on the agreement. I have as much right to act on Danny's behalf as he does, and I refuse to let Danny miss out on a golden opportunity because of his stupid issues!"

Which, Bonnie reflected, was exactly what Rosa had been counting on. She had to tip her hat to her wily friend; she had won this round. What her son would not accept from her, she had found a way to give her grandson. And, as before with Bear's college expenses, she'd done it with fair anonymity and little expectation of return. Bonnie was confident Rosa would not use this opening to insinuate herself into Danny's life; she would remain in the shadows, a distant benefactor, content with the occasional up-date and photograph. It was not Bonnie's place to take sides, but she found she could not be sorry Rosa had gained her objective. "I have two young cousins, Hank and Reese, and every summer they do at least a week of Jeff camp. They really love it! If they're running the 'Monsters, Snakes and More' camp again this year, you should sign Danny up for it. According to Reese, it was the best time ever."

Val had been studying the offerings, and launched into a description of the sessions she was actively considering. As little was required of Bonnie other than to listen and supply the occasional opinion, the rest of the meal passed off pleasantly enough. It was, nonetheless, with a feeling of relief that Bonnie finished her salad, and set about collecting and consolidating her trash.

Val fell silent, and followed Bonnie's movements with evident disquiet. "You don't have to head back just yet, do you? How about a cup of coffee, or tea?"

"Not for me, Val, thanks." She made a show of consulting her watch. "I don't have to leave right this second, but soon. Five, ten minutes, tops."

"Right. Okay." She took a breath, and nodded several times, as if working up her resolve. "You were… ah… talking about a couple of your cousins a while back, and that reminded me I wanted to ask you about that other cousin of yours. You know the one I met at your art show that time? Eddie? What's he up to these days? I haven't seen or heard from him in a while."