Page 42 of Baby for Dr. Damaged

I had meant for this to just be a way to spend a bit more time with her, but the evening is so quiet and still… It seems like the perfect time to broach a very important topic.

I ask her, “What do you think about Amanda? Do you think she would like to come out here with us sometime?”

Bonnie gives it a lot of consideration and then nods. “Yeah. She’s real cool. She’s gonna know that the ducks are awesome.”

A smile spreads over my face. “I think that she’s really cool too.” I finish eating, and then wipe off my hands, turning slightly so I’m facing Bonnie, who’s perched on the edge of the bench next to me, still working on her cheese-sauce-laden hot dog. “What would you think about spending more time with her?”

“I would like it,” says Bonnie. “I like her a lot.”

“So do I.”

“Miss Bev has had four husbands,” says Bonnie, all of a sudden. “She says that some people get married a lot. Sometimes it’s cause they don’t like the person after they married them and sometimes it’s cause they die, and you can’t be with them anymore, like mom.”

I nod. “That’s right. I loved your mother very, very much.”

“I know,” Bonnie tells me. All children are blunt and earnest. Sometimes, that actually ends up being a blessing. “So do I. I miss her a lot. But I like Amanda, too.”

“Would you mind if she stayed with us?”

“Like, forever?”

“Like forever,” I echo, nodding. “I haven’t asked her yet, but I think that she would very much like to live with us. You would be able to play piano for her a lot more often that way.”

Bonnie gives it some earnest consideration while she finishes her hot dog. She doesn’t answer until after she’s done throwing away her trash and has retaken her seat on the bench, legs swinging where they hang off the end but don’t reach the ground. “Yeah,” says Bonnie, finally. “That would be cool.”

Happiness floods through me, sun bright and warm. I ask her, “What if it wasn’t just Amanda?”

That catches Bonnie’s attention, and she turns a quizzical look on me. “What do you mean? Do you like a lot of people?”

“No, no, I don’t mean that,” I tell her, with a chuckle and a shake of my head. “I only like you, and Amanda.”

“And mom.”

“And your mother,” I agree. “Always your mother.”

Bonnie seems sated with that and then shrugs. “I dunno who else would come with her, but I guess it would be okay. Our house is really, really big, so there would be lots of room. Do they have a dog? It would be extra cool if they had a dog.”

I have a very, very strong allergy to fur, much to Bonnie’s constant disappointment. “They don’t have a dog. Amanda is going to have a baby.”

“What?” Bonnie’s eyes go wide, surprise heavy in her voice.

“That’s right. She’s going to have a little boy, and he would live with us too,” I explain.

Bonnie gasps, her eyes gone wide as saucers. “So I would be a big sister?”

“You would be,” I tell her. “That’s a lot more responsibility than having a dog in the house.”

“I want to be a big sister,” Bonnie says, enthusiastically. “Johnny has a baby brother at home and he’s real cute, but I bet my baby brother would be even cuter, and he would probably like the piano too. Do you think he’ll like the piano?”

“I’m sure that he’ll love it,” I say, more than just pleased with how smoothly this news is being taken.

Bonnie asks, “When can they come?”

“I’m going to ask Amanda about it this evening,” I say. “But your baby brother won’t be here for several months still.”

Bonnie’s lower lip juts out, just a little. “That long?”

“That long.” I chuckle but the sound is cut off when my phone rings. My heart sinks, and I can see the disappointment flash over Bonnie’s face. “Just a moment,” I tell her, standing up. “I promise that I’m not going to work.”

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