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DONNIE STILL DIDN’T know about my being out on administrative leave. I was considering telling him about it at lunch, but as soon as he opened the door, I decided it could wait. It was easy to see something was bothering him. He may as well have had a miniature cartoon storm cloud hovering over his head. Either I had become good at reading him, or this was exceptionally bad.
I followed him back to the kitchen. Either there was some problem with the restaurant, or something was up with Davison. If anything had happened at Donnie’s Drive-Inn, I would have already heard about it through the usual gossip channels.
“So, what’s the news about Davison?” I asked as Donnie busied himself at the stove. “Everything okay with his school?”
I watched him chop and stir and deglaze, admiring his cooking skills as I might admire a trapeze artist or a glassblower.
“I’m glad you asked, Molly. I’m worried about him. I only know what he tells me, and his story keeps changing, but I think he’s going to lose his scholarship. He might even end up getting kicked out of school.”
“What happened? What did he do?”
“That’s the problem. It doesn’t sound like he’s doing much of anything, especially his homework. This is such a good opportunity for him, and he’s squandering it. I don’t know how to fix this.”
“Sometimes,” I ventured, “when people have to endure the consequences of their actions, it can good for them. A learning experience.”
I knew I had to tread carefully here. As far as I knew, nothing good had ever come from telling a father that his beloved son is a spoiled jerk.
Donnie shook his head. “I see what you’re saying, Molly. About consequences. But this doesn’t only affect Davison. You have no idea what kinds of favors I had to call in to get him set up over there. If he gets kicked out now, it’ll be worse for me than for him. It seems like he’s happy to goof off all day with his girlfriend. I don’t know. He might be feeling like he’s in over his head. Maybe I should try to do something to build his confidence.”
“I don’t think that’s what you want to do,” I said. “Build his confidence, I mean.”
Donnie poured something into a pan and began stirring.
“Why not?” he shouted over the sizzling.
“Marginal students have poor metacognition, and they tend to be hugely overoptimistic about how much they’re learning and understanding.”
I hoped Donnie hadn’t noticed I’d just implied his son was a marginal student with poor metacognition. “Betty Jackson, from psychology, was telling me about some research that shows if you take struggling students and try to bolster their self-esteem, it can backfire. There’s one study, I think the title is actually something like An Intervention That Backfired.”
“Are you going to tell me something that doesn’t work? Because I’d like to hear about something that does work.”
Donnie was facing the stove, stirring energetically, so I couldn’t see his expression. I could guess it wasn’t happy.
“Yes. Just listen, please. I’m trying to tell you, encouragement is fine, as long as you don’t overdo it and give him a false sense of security.”
Donnie turned around to face me.
“So you’re telling me he doesn’t need someone to build his confidence. What he needs a kick in the `okole.”
“That’s not exactly what I was trying to—”
“No, I think you’re right. If I could get away from the restaurant, I’d go out there myself and do it. But I can’t. I wish...”
Donnie twiddled some dials on the stove, placed lids on pots, and came over to where I was sitting at the counter. He sat down next to me, placed his hand on my shoulder, and looked into my eyes.
“Molly, you know it’s hard for a kid who doesn’t have a mom.”
I nodded.
“I’m glad I met you, and there are a lot of reasons for that. Not all of those reasons have to do with me.”
This wasn’t the first time Donnie had said something like this to me. I wasn’t expecting a Browning sonnet or anything, but it might have been nice to hear some declaration of frank affection. Instead of variations on, “I need help wrangling my hooligan son, and I think you’re up to the job.”
“I know,” I sighed. “You want to do what’s best for Davison.”
“I hope this doesn’t frighten you, Molly, but spending time with you, it’s started to feel like we’re a family. Even though Davison’s not here all the time, I think having you in our lives is good for him. And I know it’s good for me.”
“That’s very nice, Donnie. Of course you’re not frightening me.”
I wondered whether he could tell I was lying.
Donnie let his hand trail from my shoulder down to my hand. “Molly, I normally wouldn’t ask you for a favor like this, but what’s your schedule like this week?”
“My schedule?” I stammered. “You’re asking me what my schedule is?”
Donnie gave my hand a squeeze.
“When are your classes?” he persisted. “This week? What times do you have to be on campus this week?”
Not only did I not have to be on campus, I wasn’t even allowed to come within five hundred feet of it. Donnie’s eyes gleamed. Those weren’t...tears? I sighed.
“I don’t have any teaching obligations this week. I’m actually on kind of a mini-sabbatical right now.”
Donnie pulled me close and whispered into my ear.
“I love you so much, Molly.”