Twenty-Five

It had been one of those days that, when it was over, Bonnie couldn't remember what she'd actually done. She'd found it hard to focus. There were so many different things on her mind that she couldn't zero in on one.

She felt sad for Allison Fowler. She was not present at school today, nor would she be again. This morning her absence was explained to Allison's fourth-grade classmates, and her teacher had accepted Bonnie's offer to be present.

"We have sad news today," the teacher began, doing her best not to be too maudlin. "Allison has moved to a new school. She has gone to live with her aunt, who doesn't live near here." She paused. "Allison's mother died last week. I'm sure Allison would have liked a chance to say goodbye to all of you, but this all happened late on Friday."

"Her mom was a druggie," said a boy sitting near the back of the class.

Bonnie and the teacher both shot the boy a look. If their eyes had been laser-equipped, he'd have burst into flames. He got the message and said no more.

The teacher continued, "It's true that Allison's mother was going through some difficult times, but I know we all would want to wish her the very best and hope that she gets through this."

Bonnie stepped in. "If any of you wish to send a note to Allison, telling her you'll miss her, and telling her how sorry you are that her mother has passed on, I will make sure those get to her. Or maybe the class would like to make a large card that everyone could sign."

With that, she excused herself from the classroom. Back in her office, she found her thoughts constantly returning to Marta and Richard. She'd texted with her sister early that morning to see how her recovery was going, and Marta continued to assure her she was fine and likely returning to work later that day. Bonnie fired back a text urging her to take the week off, but knew trying to talk sense into Marta was a lost cause. She doubted Ginny would have any better luck.

And then there was Richard.

God, the week he'd been through. As if his encounter with Mark LeDrew weren't enough, now those parents were suing. As a principal, she wasn't in the union, but she had contacts there, and she got in touch with Arthur Crone. He promised to look into it and reach out to Richard.

Later, she called him back.

"Had a good chat with Richard," he said. "He said he'd fill you in."

She wanted an answer now. "Are you guys covering him or not?"

"I told him not to worry. We've got this."

She smiled when she ended the call. He didn't have to sell the boat. Good thing, too, because it was a family boat. Rachel might not have been a huge fishing fan—it was hard for a kid that age to sit still waiting for some dumb perch or pickerel to hit her line—but she loved exploring the lake and knifing her hand into the water as Richard cranked the throttle to full speed. There were good memories attached to that boat, and every reason to believe they would be making more.

Bonnie dealt with a few administrative matters through the afternoon, then told her vice principal she'd had enough and was heading home early. She'd get something organized for dinner, then head down and pick up Rachel from Mrs. Tibaldi.

As she arrived home, Jack was also pulling into the driveway next door. He waved. Bonnie waved back and approached him as he was getting out of his car.

"Hey, Jack," she said, but she couldn't be heard over the loaded dump truck rumbling past. She tried again. "Hey, Jack!"

"Bonnie."

"Got a second?"

"Sure."

"Richard was telling me he sold you the boat."

Jack nodded. He patted the chest of his suit jacket. "Have the money right here."

"The cash," Bonnie said.

Another nod. "Don't usually go to the bank asking for that much. I think the teller thought I was doing a drug deal or something." He grinned. "Do I give off that kind of vibe?"

Bonnie tried to smile but couldn't quite pull it off.

"I'm really sorry, Jack. I don't like doing this. I know you and Richard had a deal, but..."

He waited.

"This has been a pretty traumatic week for Richard," Bonnie said.

"Of course."

"He's not thinking as clearly about things as he should be."

"I can well imagine."

"He's making decisions he really hasn't thought through. And I think what motivated him to sell the boat is no longer an issue. Don't know if you'd heard, but he's being sued—it's a ridiculous thing—and he thought he'd have to pay the legal costs himself, but it turns out he doesn't have to. That was what he needed the money for."

"Oh my."

"So, in light of that, and I hate to ask, but I wonder if you'd be willing to cancel the deal."

"Of course. It's not a problem."

"I'm really, really sorry about this."

"I'm the one who should feel badly. That maybe I was taking advantage of him in a weak moment. That was never my intention. But it seemed like he'd already made up his mind to sell." He patted the cash again. "Maybe we'll go out for dinner."

That made Bonnie laugh. "I know a great little café on the Champs-élysées."

"You have a wonderful evening," Jack said, and continued on into the house.

Bonnie gave him one last wave, waited until he was inside, then continued on to the sitter's.

It was the right thing to do, she told herself. And she was betting that once she told Richard what she'd done, that he didn't need the money for his legal defense, that he could keep his boat, he'd be happy.