Page 24 of Charm City Rocks
“In other words, folks,” says Ms. Modell, “Caleb’s got some thinking to do.”
Robyn crosses her arms and then her legs. “I guess he does.” She’s speaking to Ms. Modell, of course, but she’s looking right at Billy.
—
“Will someone please tell me why this is such a bad thing?” he asks.
They’re walking through the parking lot—three of them among a gentle stream of couples. He knows why Robyn and Aaron are pissed, but there’s power in good-natured obliviousness. “Is this really theworstproblem we could have? He’s just keeping his options open.”
Billy and Aaron walk side by side. Robyn is a step ahead, her shoes tapping out an agitated beat. Sometimes in moments of tri-parental tension, Billy and Aaron form careful alliances. Not tonight, though.
“It’s more complicated than that, Billy,” says Aaron. “And, all due respect, I think you understand that.”
“You went to Stanford, Aaron,” says Billy, “and you loved it. I get it. But Hopkins is one of the best schools in the country. And it’s right here.” Billy points. “It’s literally downthatstreet.”
Aaron shakes his head as the three of them stop at a red Audi. He looks at his wife and then at Billy. “This is me,” he says.
Billy eyes the roadster—two-door, sleek, and fast looking. “Damn. Is this new?”
“Couple of months,” says Aaron. He unlocks the car with a key fob and the headlights flash.
Billy touches a smooth fender. “It’s nice.”
They easily could’ve been adversaries, Billy and Aaron—toxic masculinity and such. Ten years ago, though, when Aaron and Robyn got engaged, Billy invited Aaron out for crabs, and they decided that it’d be easier for everyone involved if they simply liked each other. Now they’re friends, in the broadest sense of the term.
“I’m parked up that way,” says Robyn. “I’ll see you at home.”
Aaron tells Robyn that he’ll start heating up the lasagna, and then he gives Billy a look that says,Glad I’m not you, you dumb bastard.
—
Alone now for the first time in a few months, Billy and Robyn walk up a slight incline. She asks where he’s parked and he waves up ahead, trying not to be specific. There aren’t as many streetlights in this section of the parking lot, so it’s darker the farther they getfrom the school. “I’ll walk you to your car,” Billy says. “You never know who’s lurking in these private-school parking lots.”
Robyn slows and makes a clicking sound with her mouth. “Billy? Is that the Charm City Rocks van over there?”
He’d hoped she wouldn’t notice, which was a silly thing to hope, because it’s a big baby-blue conversion van withCharm City Rocksstenciled on the side. A helicopter would’ve stuck out less. “Grady let me borrow it,” he says. “The Champagne Supernova is having some trouble with its…whatever makes cars start.”
“He evicts you from your apartment, but you’re perfectly fine borrowing his van?”
Billy flushes. He hoped she wouldn’t notice that either: Billy’s pending homelessness.
“Caleb told me,” she says.
“Right. Well, it’s not Grady’s fault. It’s just business. I’m being gentrified.”
Robyn is the sort of person who’s perpetually in motion. She paces. When she sits, her right leg bounces, electrified by caffeine and anxiety. She dashes from one appointment to the next, cellphone in hand. She’s often in the middle of a call, and it usually seems like things on that call aren’t going great. Tonight, though, she doesn’t appear to be in any hurry to get home, so she and Billy stand for a while beside the Charm City Rocks van. She’s wearing heels, which puts her almost exactly at Billy’s height. Leaning against the driver’s side door, she pulls her hair out of its tight bun.
“Oh, hey,” he says. “Your hair’s shorter, right? I like it.”
She looks at her reflection in the van’s window. “Stop being nice. I’m mad at you.”
“Well, in that case, your blouse is hideous.”
Robyn laughs, which comes with a head shake, and it reminds him of when they were young. He half expects her to pull out acigarette, even though she quit nineteen years ago when she was pregnant with Caleb.
“You aren’t talking shit to Cay about Stanford, are you?” she asks.
“What?”
