Page 23 of Charm City Rocks
Oh, Billy, come on.
He pushes through the front doors and comes to a sliding stop atop the Ruxton Academy crest, which is inlaid into the floor. Billy can either go left or right. He chooses left, which works out. Robyn texted that the room, 118, is in the English department,and Billy sees stenciled drawings of Shakespeare, Dickens, and Poe on the walls. He passes Mr. Butler’s office, Ms. Stringer’s office, and then Mrs. Duncan’s office. 118 is next to Maya Angelou and a small caged bird.
Three faces turn, six eyes, two of which narrow.
Oh, Billy, come on.
“Hey, everyone. Sorry. My car…” He leaves the rest to their imaginations, hoping they’ll come up with something harrowing—a multivehicle pileup, escaped animals on the highway.
Caleb’s academic advisor, Ms. Modell, stands and shakes Billy’s hand. She’s a serious-looking young woman in a navy-blue blouse and checkered skirt. Robyn and her husband, Aaron, have come from work, so they’re dressed like they’re initiating a corporate takeover. Robyn looks terrific, and Billy wishes he had a wardrobe do-over. Something with a collar would’ve been nice, and khakis, perhaps. Realizations like this, unfortunately, always come in retrospect.
Aaron shakes his hand, squeezes his elbow. “Billy,” he says. “Good to see you.”
Billy kisses Robyn’s cheek. “Sorry,” he whispers.
“You didn’t miss a thing, Mr. Perkins,” says Ms. Modell. “We were just chatting about Caleb. I should apologize myself. I didn’t realize until this evening that Caleb is from a nontraditional household situation.”
Billy assesses the furniture as he sits. An extra chair has been dragged over to accommodate the odd shape of their parental unit. “Well, that’s us,” he says. “I’m dad, she’s mom, and he’s the stepdad.”
“Some might say co-dad,” says Aaron.
“We’re still workshopping that term,” says Billy.
“Billy and I were never married,” says Robyn. “So Caleb hasonly known us as two separate homes. Aaron and Billy are both very involved. They’re good dads.”
“I can see that,” says Ms. Modell. “Well, whatever the arrangement, it works. You should all be very proud. Your son is a fantastic student. Top ten percent—officially now.”
Caleb’s three parents smile. Billy knows how hard Caleb worked this year to break the top ten, and a lump of pride forms in his throat.
“As you know,” says Ms. Modell, “Caleb has applied to some very competitive schools. U. of Maryland is a definite yes. He’s in-state, and his grades are stellar. I’m confident about Hopkins, too. We have a wonderful relationship with the admissions department over there. Stanford, though…well, Stanford is our reach. Your influence as an alum, Mr. Frazier, could definitely help, but you never know. Stanford is unpredictable.”
Everyone nods; Billy unbuttons his cardigan, hoping not to start actively sweating from all that accidental cardio.
“In years past,” says Ms. Modell, “they’ve focused heavily on extracurriculars over there—athletics, student government, that sort of thing. Lately, though, with quants and computer programmers doing so well out in the world, they’ve made room for more academic-minded kids like Caleb. The app he built for his analytics class is a perfect example of that.”
Another lump forms, and Billy insists to himself that he won’t turn weepy in front of these beautifully dressed professional people. He clears his throat. “One heck of a piano player, too.”
Ms. Modell smiles. “Certainly is. Caleb said you helped film his video essay, Mr. Perkins.”
Seven minutes of Cay at the Steinway wearing a dress shirt and tie they tied with the help of a YouTube video. He played a medley of his favorite songs. “Nailed it in three takes,” says Billy.
“So, for the sake of discussion,” Ms. Modell says, “if Hopkins and Stanford were to both come through, we’d want to—”
“Clearly Stanford,” says Robyn.
The HVAC ticks on, and Ms. Modell is briefly flustered by being interrupted.
“Sorry,” says Robyn. “Hopkins is fabulous, obviously. But the chance to go out west—a new experience—it seems like an easy decision. No?”
“A reasonable point of view, Mrs. Frazier. Four years at Stanford would be an incredible opportunity. I should tell you, though, after speaking with Caleb, he’s not ruling out staying in town. In fact, as of yesterday morning, I’d say he’s leaning toward it.”
“Wait, what?” says Robyn.
“He wants to go toHopkins?” says Aaron.
“Notnecessarily,” says Ms. Modell. “There’s a pull to stay local. It’s perfectly natural. We see it all the time.”
Billy leans forward in his chair just as Robyn and Aaron lean back in theirs. Sneakily, he feels a hit of joy shot directly into his veins. Hopkins. In Baltimore.
