Worry Rock

He returned in a few minutes, flipping through a small calendar that you would normally find hanging on a bulletin board. His eyes lifted to meet mine and he handed it to me, already flipped to the month of May. My eyes searched the days for a small red dot as I felt my hands become sweatier.

Shit.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit no. No, no, no. No, not now.

“Well?” he asked as he peered over my shoulder.

For the next month, my husband had done nothing but pretty much kiss my ass. If I had wanted something, he would jump up to get it. If I was tired, more than once he had carried me up the stairs. If Sydney was complaining to me about whatever teenagers complained about, he was to jump in and side with me.

Billie Joe Armstrong had also taken up the habit of wrapping his arm around my waist and placing it on my stomach. I flinched every time.

Billie Joe had stopped that habit once he had noticed me flinch. His eyes looked over my face and he slowly took his hand off of my stomach and placed it at my side. I looked back up at him and smiled lightly; picking up his hand and putting it back. “If it bothers you, just tell me,” he murmured.

“Alright.”

Truly and honestly, as the days went on Billie Joe had wanted a child even more, meanwhile the thought of one made me cringe.

I wanted a child, but with what had just happened with Billie Joe and I and my lack of trust of him. It wasn’t right to get pregnant when Billie Joe and I were on rough terms. Otherwise, I had wanted a baby more than anything.

Billie Joe Armstrong had no problem pulling me into the bedroom at night, late at night when there was no sound in the house, let alone the street. That way we knew that our daughter was asleep and we only had to worry about being quiet.

“Don’t you ever get tired of sex?” I asked Billie Joe slowly, leaning into his grip as we both sat at the side of the pool. His feet were dipped in and the water sat up to his calves. It was hot, to say in the least. Sydney was on the other side of the pool with Tiff, talking and giggling while swimming.

“I’m a forty-five year old man with a sexy wife,” Billie Joe murmured into my neck so that there was no chance of anyone to hear us. [Meaning the two girls.] “What do you think?”

“Well, from what I know – I’d say no.”

“I’ll be gettin’ it up when I’m eighty if I have to.”

I started laughing, causing a couple of odd looks from the two girls. Billie Joe made a face at them and Sydney rolled her eyes as Tiff giggled. “Don’t you think your dick will be tired by then?”

“Sweetie, I’ll buy the Cialis and Viagra companies if I have to.”

I snorted into his bare chest, playing with the hem of his swimming trunks. “Then everyone’ll know you can’t get it up.”

“But they’ll also know that my wife is so good in bed that I’m buying erection companies.”

I grinned, stifling a laugh as I kissed a part of his tattooed arm. “They’ll know that your wife isn’t that good because she can’t even get you to get it up.”

“Then I’ll tell the world that my crotch loves my wife but it’s an old fuck.”

I laughed once again and he grinned widely, kissing the top of my head. “I’d tell the world that I want to throw you on the ground right, or even better – in the pool, and continue trying to make beautiful babies, but my daughter is in the pool so I am unable to.”

I was grinning and blushing while continuing to bury my nose into his arm as his hand gently patted my stomach. Billie Joe had had the day off from the studio, considering that it was supposed to go into the triple digits today and all the guys knew that they would rather be at home with their families than sitting in an oven-hot studio spitting nasty comments to each other. When Billie Joe had gotten off of the phone that morning with Mike, he looked as if he was ready to have sex with it, had that been possible.

Sydney had been off of school for that week due to April vacation, and she had invited Tiffany over to go into the pool because of the heat and the fact that Tiff had had no pool. The thirteen year old had tried to invite Tiff and Chris over, but once her father had launched into a two-hour lecture on what disgusting pigs guys were, somehow excluding himself as being one, she realized that it really wasn’t worth it.

“Mmm…remember that time when it was raining and you fell into the pool? And then got sick?” Billie Joe asked.

“Yes,” I mumbled.

The man behind me in the lawn chair grinned. He grabbed the bottle of suntan lotion that I had always had by the back door, being scared of skin cancer ever since I had heard about a kid I grew up getting it and falling incredibly ill, and squeezed some of it onto his finger.

His eyes lifted to the back of my head and he smirked to himself as he rubbed two fingers together, getting it on both before outstretching his arm in front of me, showing me the lotion. “What does this look like?”

I stared at his hand for a moment before gasping and laughing, whacking it away from me. “I married a teenager.”

Billie Joe giggled behind me, wiping the white substance on my shoulder. I looked at it from the corner of my eyes, watching as he grinned, rubbing my shoulder so that it stayed on but was not visible. “Let’s go bother Sydney,” Billie Joe murmured as he went to get up.

I laughed, cringing as he lifted himself up by putting all of his weight on my shoulders. He apologized quickly and leant down to kiss me not a moment before he pulled me up with him and dragged me over to the pool. “Billie,” I spat as he pulled me over to the chlorine filled water. “I have eyeliner and mascara on. You throw me in and it’ll run down my face and I’ll look like a damn zombie.”

“Quitcha’ bitchin. You’ll get over that.”

I gasped and pulled my hand out from his, causing him to stop walking and turn around to face me. “What?”

“I am not bitching.”

“Yes, you pretty much are.”

Without any hesitation I stepped closer to my husband and placed my hands on his tattooed arms. He looked at me quizzically, and then it dawned on him what I was about to do. He went to push me off of him, but he was already halfway backwards as I shoved him back over the edge of and into the pool.

From the other side of the pool, both Sydney and Tiff looked up with wide eyes as they heard a female scream. Sydney rolled her eyes as water splashed over onto her and her friend that wade next to her, immediately hearing yelling although she knew that none of her parents were upset. Tiff snorted. “What was what?”

“My parents. They push each other in the pool all the time. Or, most of the time, rather, my dad just throws my mom into the pool.”

Tiffany laughed again as she watched me pull off my sandal and hit Billie Joe in the arm with him while he continued to throw his head back and laugh. “You’re lucky,” Tiff admitted.

Sydney arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“My parents don’t like each other. They don’t speak a lot.”

Sydney hesitated. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Tiff grinned. “It’s alright.”

I took off my sandal and whacked my husband, watching him laugh. “You. Stupid. Bastard.”

Billie Joe took the sandal out of my hand and threw it out of the pool at Charlie who growled at him and then sniffed the shoe. “Baby, you’re really weak.”

“And you’re a stupid fuck-face.”

Billie Joe rolled his eyes. “And you’re a shit-head. Are we done calling each other childish names?”

I mumbled a few incoherent words and Billie Joe laughed, locking an arm around my waist. “Well,” he murmured, “Can I compliment you now, or are you still thinking of ways to drown me?”

“Go ahead, because the compliment may be the only thing keeping your head above water.”

My husband grinned as he kissed the side of my neck, lifting his lips to my ear so that the two teenagers that were so far, yet so close to us couldn’t hear. “You look great in your bikini.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thank you,” I mumbled.

Billie Joe grinned widely. “It shows off your cleavage.”

I looked up at my husbands face to see his eyes seemingly glued to my chest. I laughed and lifted a hand from his neck to his chin, pushing it up lightly so that he had to look at me. “My face is up here, hon.”

Billie Joe blushed, his eyes lingering around my fingertips and back to my chest. “I like to tell people that you have nice breasts. I was just making sure.”

I laughed at my husband, untangling myself from him and wading through the water as he followed closely. I pushed myself up onto the side of the pool, leaving my feet in the water as I watched Billie Joe go underneath it for a moment and come back up, smoothing his brown hair. He had been too lazy to dye lately and had stopped dying it so much since he had taken a shower and some of his hair had started to come out, which caused him a slight and un-needed panic attack. “And who exactly do you tell that I have nice breasts to?”

“Depends where I am,” he murmured. He folded his arms and placed them on the wall to the pool and then placed his head on them, looking at me as he stood in the water. “If I’m sober, not many unless I feel the need.” He grinned widely. “If I’m drunk – just about everyone.”

I laughed and whacked it arm, inwardly hoping that he was kidding. Billie Joe snorted after a moment, standing up straighter. He slid in-between my legs and wrapped an arm around my waist. “I’m kidding, darling. I want to kill half the men that look at you, do you really think I’d tell them my wife has amazing boobs? They’d try to see.” I smiled nervously as the older man placed his nose just above my chest, moving downwards. I placed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back.

“Kids.”

Billie Joe chuckled embarrassedly and turned to look at the two girls who were wading at the side of the pool, cooing at the small dog that was prancing around them on the deck. He pulled himself out of the pool and sat next to me, sliding a hand into my own, placing them in his lap. He leant closer to me, kissing the side of my neck. “How about we go out to dinner tonight?” He asked softly.

“Hmm?”

“You, Sydney, me, and if it’s alright with her parents, Sydney can bring Tiff.”

He raised his eyebrows suggestively as I thought for a moment, making him wait. I grinned and leant closer to him now, placing my head on his wet shoulder. “I think that sounds good.”

“Yeah?”

I pulled back and kissed him softly. “Yes, m’dear.”

Billie Joe pulled his lips away from mine slowly, rubbing the back of my thumb with his own. “SYDNEY.”

Sydney and Tiff both turned away from Charlie to look at the guitarist and me. “What?” She yelled back.

“Your mom and I want to go out to dinner tonight, in an hour or two so don’t spend too much more time in the pool if you’re going to take a shower and get ready.” He looked over to Tiff and smiled. “If you want to call your mom, Tiff, you’re welcome to join us.”

Tiffany grinned. “Thank you.”

Billie Joe grinned in return and nodded, standing up while pulling me up with him, his fingers still entwined with my own. “I’ll get you the phone.”

Billie Joe pulled me out of gated deck that surrounded the pool, ushering Charlie out with us as he closed the door. He craned his neck over the tall wooden gate. “Seriously, you two,” he called back to the two girls. “One girl takes long enough to get ready; the two of you will probably take twice as long.”

“No we won’t, dad,” Sydney yelled back, getting out of the pool with Tiff, but only going to sit on the side knowing that Billie Joe and I didn’t allow her to be in the pool alone even though she protested it.

Billie Joe rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at his daughter and her friend and then pulled me into the house, closing the door behind us. He pulled me through the house, water droplets dripping off of us throughout the house and onto the wooden floors. He let go of my hand to grab the portable phone and then walked back outside with it, placing it on a table on the deck for Tiffany before returning and continuing to pull me upstairs.

The older man pushed open the door to our bedroom and then closed it gently not a moment before backing me to the bed and pushing me onto it. He climbed over me and grinned. “I think I mentioned that you in a bikini makes me happy.”

I laughed as I placed my hands on his shoulders, restricting him from leaning any closer. He groaned. “Please?”

“Our daughter and her best friend are outside,” I said simply. Billie Joe still stared at me pleadingly. “Sweetie, even though you like to watch us having sex when you can get away with it, our daughter does want her eyesight.”

“I can make two things from that.”

“You told Sydney and Tiff to come inside. If they come to talk to us for whatever reasons teenagers do, the last thing they’d want to see is you on top of me moaning my name.”

Billie Joe grinned widely, showing his unperfected teeth. “Then how about we take a nice shower together? They can’t see us there unless they want to, and that would be their fault.”

“What if I don’t want to take a shower?” I challenged playfully.

“You smell like chlorine.”

“So do you,” I countered, watching as his hazel eyes flickered back and forth.

“I’m a guy; chlorine probably smells good on me.”

I snorted and threw my head back, placing more force on his shoulders. “Even you can’t pull that off.”

He laughed as he stood up, pulling me up with him so that we were standing next to the bed. “One quick shower?” he asked in a low voice with a smile. “I won’t even try to pull anything on you by dropping the soap and asking you to pick it up.”

I giggled as I placed my head on his shoulder. “It would have to be amazingly quick.”

“Oh come on,” Billie Joe said cockily, pulling away, “This is me we’re talking about. Sex god. Sex god of quickies.”

I giggled once again as he took my hand into his and dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door and turning on the shower. He peaked out of the curtains of the bathroom window to see Sydney and Tiffany still sitting on the side of the pool and then turned back to me, happy to assist me with pulling the strings of my bikini loose.

***

I had had suspicions about the dinner that Billie Joe had taken Sydney, Tiffany and me out to. Part of me really believed that it was because of the fact that Travis took me out for one to my birthday and he wanted to take me out now to make up for it.

I wanted to bring that up to Billie Joe when we got home that night, but I decided against it, worried that it would break out in an argument – especially when Sydney and Tiffany were in the next room, Tiffany having slept over that night.

When we had gotten inside Sydney and Tiffany had collapsed on the love seat, it being big enough to fit the both of them as Billie Joe and I lay on the large couch after I had practically dragged myself over to turn on the A/C. Sydney and Tiffany had both turned on HBO which had been playing Pirates of the Caribbean while Billie Joe groaned in protest, knowing that I had loved Johnny Depp since before I had known him.

We turned in soon after, Billie Joe mumbling rude things about the highly-attractive man in the pirates costume until I felt as if I wanted to stab him in the leg with sword that Johnny had been using on the screen. We both had warned Sydney and Tiff to not stay up late, and Billie Joe reminded them that Johnny Depp was even older than him.

The playful mood had lasted until the next morning.

I had woken up next to my husband in our bed, him snoring loudly while he lay on his chest and I lay on my back. I had pulled the duvet off of me to get up, going to see what time it was and if the two girls were up. As soon as I stood up, my hand had covered my mouth meanwhile the other one went immediately to my stomach.

I stumbled into the bathroom that was attached to the large bedroom and mimicked Billie Joe’s moves from a drunken night although it wasn’t mean to be funny.

When I had finished, I slowly closed the lid of the toilet and sat on the cold tile floor next to it, catching my breath. I closed my eyes for a moment, confused at my sudden illness. Before I had had time to think, Billie Joe’s shadow blocked the light from the bedroom as he looked down at me, confused and slightly worried. “Joe?” He murmured, crouching down next to me. “Hon, are you alright?”

I nodded slowly, being taken into his tattooed arms. “I have no idea what just happened.”

The older man rubbed my back tenderly, kissing my temple. “Sounds to me that you were ridding yourself of dinner.” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “If you didn’t like the meal, you could have just told me.”

I laughed into his shoulder, closing my eyes before pushing him away ruder than I had meant to, a wave of nausea hitting me again. Billie Joe knelt behind me, rubbing my back with one hand, the other on my shoulder.

It took us a few minutes after my second term of illness, but I think the same thought both seemed to his us – only it hit me harder, with almost a brick had it been possible. With the noise of the toilet flushing as the only interruption of the had-been comfortable silence, a wave of not nausea, but worry hit me. Another brick.

“Joe?” Billie Joe asked slowly, gently wrapping his arms around my body as he pulled me into his lap.

“I don’t know,” I answered automatically.

Another silence, only this one was uncomfortable. The air was thicker and I was beginning to become sick again – only not for the same reason. This time I wanted to puke as I sat there in his lap, surrounded by his checkered boxers. “Where’s the calendar?” He asked softly.

He mistook the way I was acting for me not wanting to get too excited.

For one of the first times since I had met Billie Joe Armstrong on the plane that was on its way to California, he was the naïve one. He was the poor bastard right now.

I hesitated. “Uh – the dresser. My dresser; the bottom.”

The older man nodded and slowly unraveled him from his comforting grip and helped me up as he slowly left the bathroom. Automatically, I tore open the cabinet that hung on the wall, searching through it frantically for a test. Part of me wanted to find it, but the rest of me was praying that we had used them all before so that we wouldn’t know.

He returned in a few minutes, flipping through a small calendar that you would normally find hanging on a bulletin board. His eyes lifted to meet mine and he handed it to me, already flipped to the month of May. My eyes searched the days for a small red dot as I felt my hands become sweatier.

Shit.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit no. No, no, no. No, not now.

“Well?” he asked as he peered over my shoulder.

He was trying to tell himself that it was nothing and to not get his hopes up because we had done it so many times before. For four months we had both gotten our hopes up to have them fall and shatter, and so he promised to not do it now. Every time he had gotten his hopes up I would come down the stairs and tell him that I had gotten the only proof of not being pregnant, and he would smile and nod and say it was alright.

It was almost as if I would never be pregnant, even though we had only been trying for a few months. However, when you’re trying to achieve a child, a few months is a few years and there is nothing anyone could do in the relationship other than hope that it works that month, or at least soon.

“Joe?” He cooed.

I closed the calendar slowly and took a deep breath. “I’m uh – well,” I tried, stuttering and stumbling over my words as Billie Joe looked at me curiously. “I was due the – uh... We – I, we need a test.”

Fate hated me.