Page 39 of Finding Home

“I’d expect nothing less from you.” Caleb shuts the cardoor behind me and gestures to the home improvement store. “Come on, babysitter. Let’s have some fun boosting the local economy of Billings.”

Chapter 14

Aubrey

Caleb and I are back at the lake house now, after a long, decadent—and, yes, incredibly fun—day in Billings of shopping, hanging out, and goofing off. For the past few minutes, we’ve been going back and forth between the loaded truck and the house, hauling in today’s massive haul. Once we’re finished setting up here, the plan is to drive to my parents’ house to pick up Raine and bring her back; so, of course, we’re both eager to make everything perfect and inviting for Raine’s imminent arrival.

Caleb wasn’t kidding about boosting Billings’ local economy today. We scratched off every item on our To Do List, and more. Besides ordering the lumber needed for Caleb’s deck project, he also snapped up a professional-grade set of fancy tools at our first stop of the day. My father already owns tools, by the dozens, so I told Caleb he could borrow them. But Caleb insisted on having his own set for the project.

After I’d balked at his expensive and unnecessary purchase, Caleb insisted, “When I’m done building thedeck, I’ll give all these tools to your dad as a thank-you gift for helping me with the deck. I’m sure they won’t go to waste.”

After the home-improvement store, we headed to the music store across the street, as planned, where Caleb got himself a sparkling new drum kit. Of course, he had to sit down to try the kit out before making his selection, which meant, in no time flat, a crowd gathered to watch him. Phones came out. Selfies were requested and given. Baseball caps and T-shirts were signed. Two arms, too, on two different people. Both guys said they planned to get Caleb’s signature tattooed over.

It was crazy getting to witness Caleb being C-Bomb, live and in person, versus watching him on my computer screen. I hate to admit it, but it was also delightful knowing everyone standing around assumed I was C-Bomb’s girlfriend. I’m not proud of the jolt I felt in that music store; it was predictable, basic, and stupid of me. But in that moment, I admit I felt special to be the one C-Bomb kept smiling at when he played. The one he called over, when it was time to leave. The one he whispered to, when he tried to pay for that drum kit. Ultimately, the music store insisted on gifting the kit to him, in exchange for permission to post videos of today’s unexpected visit.

So, anyway, yes. I fully admit I was lame and weak today, and I’m pissed at myself for it. Sorry, Claudia. I know you would have given your left arm to get to cosplay C-Bomb’s girlfriend for a day, the way I did today. But for me, even as I was doing it, and tingling from head-to-toe from the whole experience, a piece of me knew I was being a basic bitch. One of the herd. Not to mention, breaking girl code by spending such an amazing day with my best friend’s man.

With Caleb’s new drum kit loaded into the back of Dad’s big truck, we then headed to a big-box sporting-goods store across town, purportedly to buy a set of dumbbells for Caleb and nothing else. But once we were there, Caleb basically bought out the entire store.

He snapped up clothes, first. T-shirts and sweats, a bathing suit, etcetera, since he’d only packed for a two-day trip to Prairie Springs. And then, cornhole and bocci ball sets. A deluxe barbeque for the new deck he’s yet to build, although it’s true we can start using it now, even before his project is completed.

Caleb also bought a metric ton of stuff for Raine. Noise cancelling headphones, in case his drumming becomes too loud for little ears. Clothes, shoes, frilly bathing suits. A tiny life jacket, arm floaties, and sand toys. The cutest little donut-shaped floatation device with a built-in seat. A kiddie-sized golf set. And on and on.

Surely, we’re done now, I thought, once he’d filled our shopping cart to the brim. But nope. When he noticed me covertly peeking at a tag on some expensive, designer yoga pants, simply because I was curious, Caleb sprang into action, suddenly hell-bent on showeringmewith gifts, in addition to Raine.Ignoring my protests, Caleb grabbed a second shopping cart and started filling it with expensive work-out gear for me, a yoga mat, several sets of light dumbbells, a fancy water bottle that cost too much for what it is. And on and on.

As we headed to the check-out area with ourtwoshopping carts, I thought for sure we were finally finished with the madness. But Caleb had one more trick up his sleeve: he asked a worker to grab two mountain bikes for him, plus a kiddie seat and three appropriately sized helmets, and meet us at the registers.

When I saw the final total, I practically fainted on the spot. But it was nothing to Caleb. In fact, he handed over his gleaming black credit card like he was buying a couple frozen yogurts. I tried not to swoon. Tried not to blush. Money can’t buy integrity or good character. That’s what my parents always say, and I agree wholeheartedly. But, still, I’m ashamed to say it, but it’s true: shopping with an extremely wealthy person was damned fun.

After the sporting goods store, we headed to a burger place for lunch next, since we’d both worked up an appetite spending all that money. And that’s where the budding friendship that felt like it was forming during our drive to Billings really started to flourish. During our meal, Caleb and I chatted easily. We swapped stories and laughed frequently. Notably, Caleb not only asked questions about Raine, but also about Claudia, too, which I greatly appreciated. So, of course, I returned the favor by asking Caleb lots of questions about his closest family and friends.

When the check for lunch came, Caleb said, “I’m having too much fun to leave yet. Show me something a tourist should see in Billings.”

I knew exactly where to take him. The Yellowstone Museum. It’s not a world-famous attraction, by any stretch. Certainly not a “must-see” for a guy who’s traveled the entire world. But still, we had a blast walking around the exhibits for an hour and a half, chatting and laughing and building on the conversations we’d had over lunch.

From the museum, we went for ice cream. And it was while we were enjoying our cones at an outdoor table that Caleb spotted our next stop of the day: a nearby toy store.

Toys.

My god, Caleb Baumgarten bought a mountain of them for his daughter. He actually wanted to buy out the entiretoy store for her. One of everything, to be shipped to his lake house. But I told him, no; he could pick outthreegifts for Raine and leave it at that.

“Six,” Caleb countered.

“You already bought her a bunch of sand toys and a floatie at the sporting goods store,” I reminded him.

“I’m turning the third bedroom into a kick-ass playroom for her,” he fired back. “So, that means I need to get her lots and lots toys.”

“Pick four,” I compromised, using the same voice I always use with Raine when she requires a firm boundary, at which point Caleb pouted the exact same way Raine always does when she doesn’t get her way. It was the first time I could see Caleb’s features in Raine, clear as day, rather than only seeing Claudia’s. It was a jarring moment for me: confirmation, in a visceral way, that Caleb is half responsible for the existence of my favorite person in the world.

Thankfully, Caleb ultimately took my advice about the toys. Sort of. He bought five toys, instead of buying out the store. Although I think that had more to do with the lack of room left in the truck than anything else.

Finally, after loading our toy purchases into the truck bed, we made our way back onto I-90 and into Prairie Springs, where we stopped at a grocery store on Main Street for a few supplies before heading to Caleb’s house to unload and prepare for Raine’s imminent arrival. Which is what we’re still doing now.

With a soft exhale, I place the last bag of toys in the third bedroom—Raine’s new playroom—and begin unboxing and setting up a bunch of stuff. When that task is completed, I head into the hallway, intending to head outside again for another load of whatever. But when Ireach the living room, I stop dead in my tracks. Across the room, Caleb is taking a seat, shirtless, behind his new drum kit, drumsticks in hand.

The sun is setting behind Caleb through large, floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the room in glorious, golden light that only enhances the “golden god” aura wafting off his muscled frame. Yes, I watched Caleb playing drums at the music store today. But he wasn’t shirtless back then. And we weren’t alone. Also, we hadn’t yet spent the whole day together, talking, laughing, and becoming increasingly comfortable with each other. So, to put it mildly, I’m now experiencing extreme anticipation and excitement about what’s about to happen.

Before Caleb begins playing, he notices me standing in the doorframe watching him. He flashes me a cocky wink. One that reminds me he’s not only Caleb Baumgarten, but also C-Bomb from Red Card Riot. And then, with a sharp rise of his tattooed chest and a twirl of a drumstick, the rockstar begins to play.

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