Worry Rock

“What’s that?”

I looked up from a mess of papers that lay sprawled out over the dining room table. Billie Joe stood across from me, bare-chested, with only a pair of plaid boxers on. I had been avoiding him all day by waking Sydney up for school and heading to the Adeline offices for a few hours.

But when I had re-entered the Armstrong household, Billie Joe was still passed out asleep upstairs. That dream is taking more of a toll on you than it should be.

I ran a hand through my dark hair slowly, looking back down at the papers. Billie Joe arched an eyebrow as he started to wonder if I was going to answer him. “Adeline shit,” I puffed out eventually, “Steve loaded me with papers.”

My husband chuckled and pulled up a seat next to me, taking some papers and reading them. “I’ll help,” he said, his eyes still glued to the papers. I hesitated and fidgeted with the pen in my hand; out of the corner of my eye I could see Billie Joe look at me oddly. “What?” he finally asked.

“Nothing,” I murmured looking back down at the papers, “I guess you can-“

“It’s because I snapped at you yesterday, isn’t it?”

“Isn’t what?” I asked with a confused tone. “Billie, I don’t even remember you snapping at me yesterday. You snap at me every day.”

Billie Joe just gave me that ‘look,’ in which showed that he hated my answer and wasn’t going to speak to me until I gave him a better one. I sighed, becoming agitated with the man who sat comfortably in the seat next to me. “I had a bad dream.”

The older man looked over at me, leaning over the table. “Hmmm?”

“I had a bad dream. That’s all, okay? It’s not because I hate you or anything. I just had a bad-fucking-dream.”

“About what?”

I watched Billie Joe’s arm travel from his chair to the back of mine, pulling us closer together. I shuddered as he moved his hand from the back of the chair to my shoulder. Who told him he could get that close?

The wedding bands.

I eased back in the older man’s grip slightly. “About...you know. The usual.”

He arched an eyebrow. “And what’s your usual? Naked men dancing?”

Despite the odd feeling I had been under the spell of all day, I giggled and shook my head. “I’m not lucky enough to dream that. Marrying and seeing you naked ruined all those dreams.”

Billie Joe laughed gently as he leant towards me to kiss my lips sweetly. His hands moved down to my waist as he pulled me off of my own chair and onto his. I sighed deeply and rested my head on his tattooed chest. “My mother thinks I screwed up my life by marrying you,” I stated.

Billie Joe pulled away from the cuddling position we had been in to look at me wanting to know if I was serious.

“Excuse me?”

“That was my dream, Billie. My mother and her saying how she thinks I screwed up my life by marrying you. That you were unfaithful; you were a dog.” I laughed bitterly. “Real or not, she hates you and I; as a couple and single.”

Billie Joe just stared at me, not knowing what to make of what I had just said. And then he laughed, a still confused look stamped onto his face. “I...hate your mother.”

I shifted uncomfortably in his lap, stroking the back of his head. Billie Joe smiled gently, becoming less tense as I did so. “That’s what you dreamt about?” he asked with a slight snort. “Your mother coming at telling us we failed at life?”

“That I failed at life,” I corrected while nodding.

He laughed. “I think I would rather have you dream about naked men dancing.”

I felt myself grin as I kissed his cheek gently. “Trust me; my mother mouthing me off isn’t what I call a dream. More like a nightmare.”

“Is that why I was woken up by you this morning?”

I nodded slowly. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

The older man kissed me gently while my arms traveled around his neck. He smiled and pulled away slowly, his eyes connecting with my own. “You don’t think…” he started slowly.

I arched an eyebrow. “Don’t think what?”

“That everything your mother said is just your self-conscious speaking?”

I stared at my husband, slightly appalled. “You think that that’s how I really feel?”

“Well.” He bowed his head and looked up at me from the top of his eyes. “I was bitchy yesterday. You could have been mad.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “You’re bitchy every day, babe,” I mumbled against his lips. “It’s part of your nature.”

Billie Joe’s lips were pulled upward into a smile as he sighed against my skin. He moved his hand to the back of my neck, caressing it, as his lips found my own once again. He pushed my body backwards so that I was on the table, him slowly crawling over it.

The older man grinned excitedly, his hands running down my body. He slowly pressed his lips against my own once again, starting to pull the strap down –

Both of us shot upwards, startled by the loud tune of Miss Murder belting out from my cell phone. Billie Joe stared at me for a moment, as if almost daring me to answer whoever had interrupted us. I hesitated while looking back down at the blue cell phone, the small screen flashing the word TRAVIS.

I sighed and flipped it open; disregarding the look of anger I was receiving from my husband who knelt in front of me. “Shit,” I grumbled, reading the playful text message I had received. “Shit, I forgot.”

Billie Joe arched an eyebrow, pushing his body closer to mine. “Forgot what?”

“I was supposed to meet Travis at the mall. He’s hopeless with buying gifts for his mother; he asked me for help since I’m a woman.”

“His sister is also a woman,” the older man spat, “Why doesn’t he ask her?”

“She lives in Florida, Billie.”

“And your brother lives in New York, but we still talk to him.”

I sighed, peeling myself away from my husband and off of the table. I adjusted my tank top and grabbed a white zip-up hoodie that rested on the back of one of the chairs. “You’re going?” Billie Joe asked in disbelief.

“Uh…yeah. I promised I would.”

“You’re choosing Travis over sex?”

“I’m not choosing anything, Billie Joe.” I sighed as I pulled my hair up quickly. “I’m helping Travis out. I promised him I would a few days ago when I was over there.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be late,” he whispered harshly, his hand slowly reaching out to grab my body.

I pulled away from his grip abruptly. “I already am, Billie.”

“So be later. Cancel it ‘til later.”

I rolled my eyes at him, now searching for my car keys. “You think that just because you say to do something it’s the best thing to do-“

“You’re my fucking wife, Joe. I should be able to do what I want with you without us being interrupted by your best friend.”

“That has nothing to do with it,” I snipped, “You’re just angry because you didn’t get laid right now.”

“Well of course,” he answered in monotone. He went to speak before throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. “We haven’t had sex since New Years, damnit.”

“Which was only two weeks ago.”

He looked at me as if to say And…

I rolled my eyes once again. “A lot of couples don’t have sex twenty-four fucking seven, Billie. You just have some sort of fetish with anything involving your dick.” I sighed angrily. “Damnit Billie, maybe my mother was right.”

Billie Joe stared at me for a moment before scowling, looking away. “It was a dream you had, Joe. Your mother has nothing to do with it. It’s your fucking conscious speaking about me now.”

“Well then maybe my conscious was right,” I spat, “Either way I promised Travis I’d help him with a gift for his mother.” Billie Joe wouldn’t look at me. “Stop being a brat, Billie, you’re becoming worse than Sydney was when she was five.”

***

“Can I ask you something?”

I looked up from the Mountain Dew I was taking a sip from and arched an eyebrow. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

I looked over at the 38-year old who walked next to me. “Like what?” I asked gently.

He shrugged, pulling the hat so it wasn’t covering his eyes. “Not sure. But you’re all quiet.”

I giggled quietly to myself and shook my head. “No, it’s not you, Trav.”

“Ohh, okay…mind asking me what it is then?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.”

“Hmmm…” Travis pressed a hand to his chin as if to show that he was thinking thoroughly. He squeezed one eye shut and bit his left cheek. “Don’t shoot me for saying this; it’s only a guess, but your husband?”

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to be psychic to know that.”

Travis smiled sympathetically as he moved to closer to me. “What happened m’dear? Tell me what I missed. That is…you know, if you want to.”

“It’s nothing big, Trav.”

“Kay, ‘nuff said.”

There was a short silence between the two of us before I sighed angrily to myself. “I just don’t want you thinkin’ I’m here to lay everythin’ down on you. I don’t want to bore you with my boring arguments.”

“I asked, darling. And I should feel lucky. I get to hear juicy Green Day drama that no one else gets to hear.”

You’re the reason for the drama.

I laughed at the man who continued to walk next to me. We were both silent for a moment, but I was determined to break it. I looked over at Travis one more time before pushing him against the wall of the mall. I stuck my tongue out playfully at the man who was firmly pressed against the wall with a confused look on his face before I grabbed his hat. Travis gasped and tried to grab me to get his hat back, only to trip on his shoe lace and nearly fall on his face. I giggled as he tried to regain his balance while I placed his hat firmly on my head. “You don’t have lice, do you?”

Travis glared at me as I grinned. “If I said I did, would you give it back?”

“Sure. But then I’d have to spend the whole day going from CVS to CVS to get you dozens of lice shampoo. And then I would have to somehow embarrass you by asking all the clerks in it, with using your first and last name, if they had any shampoo for you because-“

“I have no lice!”

I felt myself grin widely as I adjusted to New York Yankee baseball hat on my head and he groaned, trying to fix the bad case of hat hair he had obtained. “It’s a good thing I grew up liking the Yankees or this hat would make me a traitor.”

Travis chuckled as he looked over at me through the side of his eyes. He smirked and then spoke quietly to himself. “It looks better on you anyway.”