Page 59 of Caught in a Storm
Margot tells him that she’s flattered. “It’s cool being with you, too. You’re the tallest person I’ve ever met. It’s charming, like you’re a friendly tree.”
Caleb laughs, clearly loving this. “I get that I shouldn’t have pretended to be a little girl and sent you that email,” he says. “Like, as a general rule, I guess, dudes shouldn’t pretend to be little girls. But I’m glad I did.”
“Me too,” says Margot, and Billy fights the urge to tackle them both into a hug on the street.
They’re walking back toward the Champagne Supernova, their pace leisurely. They pass a toy store, more bars, a cookie shop, Daquan, then Caleb clears his throat. “So, I guess I should tell you, Dad,” he says. “Like, officially.”
There’s a tone Caleb uses when he’s being serious, and Billy recognizes it. It’s the tone he used his freshman year when he announced that he wasn’t going to bother trying out for basketball and was going to join the Academic Decathlon Team instead. The tone he used when he showed Billy the email from Stanford.
“I’m gonna go to Hopkins, I think.”
Billy stops. Margot and Caleb stop, too. “Cay?”
“I don’t think,” says Caleb. “I know. I’m going. It’s a great school. And it’s…it’s here.”
Billy doesn’t know exactly what he wanted. Well, that’s not true; he’s just been playing it cool. Billy wanted his son to be here forever. As he looks at Caleb now, though—slouchy in his tall-kid way—Billy has to force himself not to shout with joy. “This is what you want? What you actually want?”
One of the great things about Baltimore is that it has impeccable comedic timing. Before Caleb can answer his dad, a drunk guy is forcibly ejected from Max’s Taphouse across the street. The security guard gives him a shove, and he stumbles over an industrial-size ashtray before sprawling onto the pavement. “Yeah, well, fuck you and your stupid little bouncer shirt, you asshole!” he shouts.
Caleb smiles. “Well, obviously. Who’d ever wanna leave this place?”
* * *
—
They’re nearly back to the car, and Billy is thinking about Robyn, wondering if she blames him for this, wondering if she should blame him. That’s the toughest part of parenting: not knowing if the things you want for your kids are what’s actually best for your kids. And then he hears a familiar voice.
“Yo, Piano Man! Hold up!”
It’s the guy with the pit bull. He and his dog are with a little boy.
“Don’t move, Piano Man! I’ve been looking for you!” The cars inching along the cobblestone stop as man, boy, and dog cross the street.
“Um, Dad, are you about to get your ass kicked?” Caleb asks.
Billy shakes the man’s hand. “It’s good to see you.”
“Where’ve you been? You play me Stevie like some kinda music tease then peace out? Not cool.”
“I moved,” says Billy. “Sorry. They’re making my old place into a coffee shop.”
From here they can make out the bright-red Coming Soon sign that Grady hung above Charm City Rocks.
“Well, that’s some bullshit.”
“Hey, you’re LaVar Barber, right?” says Caleb. “You play for the Ravens.”
“Yes, sir,” he says. “Just settling in.”
Billy didn’t recognize him before, but the name places him. He’s the Baltimore Ravens’ new defensive end, acquired from the New Orleans Saints in the off-season. Billy introduces himself, although LaVar says he likes Piano Man better than Billy, which is fair. Billy introduces Caleb and Margot.
“This is my son, Jackson,” LaVar says, putting his hand on the boy’s head.
Jackson is maybe eleven, twelve. He’s a skinny kid in glasses, a stark contrast to the bulk of his father.
“Is your dog pettable?” asks Caleb.
“Who, Lincoln? Yeah. He’s not one of those rip-your-throat-out pitties. Get in there.”
