Worry Rock

I’d never seen Billie Joe Armstrong act so sober in his life which made the whole situation ironic, considering the amount of beer cans that I had seen downstairs only a little earlier that day. Billie Joe allowed me to drive since he knew as well as I did that I wouldn’t dare let him in the driver’s seat so while he shoved Sydney into the back seat of his prized Mercedes, he slid into the passenger’s side. When we got to the actual hospital, Billie Joe guided both of us over to the uncomfortable chairs that lined the wall while he went up to the counter.

After he announced that we were there, he came back over to the chairs that Sydney and I sat in and placed a shaking hand on my stomach. I looked up and away from Sydney, in who had been comforting me as I tried my best to act as if this was like any other normal sonogram I was coming for and over to Billie Joe.

For the first time I had looked at him since I had admitted that Zach hadn’t many any movement today, I saw the mask of comfort fault for a moment to fear. However, before I had time to say anything, he covered it back up with a warm smile and a kiss on my cheek. He patted my stomach lightly. “He’s probably sleeping; god knows he keeps you up all night with the kicking. He’s probably tired by now.”

I smiled back at him. “Of course. And babies sleep a lot in the womb. It’s just that I need to make sure that that’s all that is—that’s the only reason why we’re here.”

“Mrs. Armstrong?” At that, all three of our heads snapped up towards the direction where a middle-aged looking woman stood in a standard nurse uniform [blue pants and shirt] with a clipboard. I looked to my husband for comfort and once recognizing that that’s what I was doing, he grinned at me and lifted one of his hands to gently cup my chin and press his lips sweetly against mine. His lips brushed mine a few more times sweetly before he let me slowly stand up as he did the same next to me. Seeing both of her parents standing, Sydney stood up also. The smile on the nurse’s face faded slightly. “I’m afraid all of you can’t come back.”

Billie Joe cocked an eyebrow as I slid my hand into his and entwined our fingers. “Excuse me?”

She smiled nervously. “I’d appreciate it if your daughter would wait in the waiting room? Perhaps you, too, Mr. Armstrong?”

I found myself breaking out into a sweat already. They were telling my family, my life to sit in the waiting room as they looked over my unborn son? They were telling the biological father and sister to the baby that I was currently worrying about that they weren’t allowed in. What if something was wrong? What if there was an issue with my baby? They weren’t allowing them by my side?

Sydney shrugged and crossed her arms, though didn’t forget to roll her eyes. Unlike her father and me, she was young and embarrassed to express her opinion. Billie Joe was the complete opposite. “Are you kidding me?” He snapped. “My wife is worried about my forth child that I helped make and you’re not allowing us in?”

“The rooms are small, Mr. Armstrong. This is a hospital and we’d appreciate it if it was just your wife coming back—it’s much easier to move around. If there is an issue with the child, we’ll be sure to call you back.”

“Dad,” Sydney interrupted, “dad, you can go back with mom. I don’t care; I’ve got my iPod so I’ll just wait here.”

“No,” Billie Joe snarled at her unintentionally, “no, we’re not leaving you alone in the hospital waiting room. I just find it ridiculous that I can’t be there to support my fourth child and wife with my daughter. This is bullshit.”

The nurse didn’t respond, only gave me a look and turned to the counter, opening the manila folder she was holding. I took that as my cue. I turned to my husband who was currently shooting dirty looks at the middle-aged woman and took my hand from his to wrap both arms around his neck. I pressed my lips against his as I closed my eyes, the familiar feeling of panic sweeping over me. The kisses were different than before. Instead of being short, sweet and reassuring now, they were short, angry and filled with worry. How could they not understand that my husband and daughter deserved to be there? Even if Sydney didn’t want to, how could they not let them back? Let her sit outside as Billie Joe sat inside next to me.

For the last fifteen years of my life, Billie Joe Armstrong had practically been my backbone. He was my reassurance; the only reason I hadn’t had panic attacks at multiple times in my life and now that I was currently panicking and choking back tears of worry about my five-month old son still in the womb, they wouldn’t let him back with me? I took my lips from my husbands and rested my head on his shoulder, hugging his warm and seething body against mine. “I’m so scared,” I whimpered as my heartbeat escalated. “Please don’t make me go back there alone. Please, please don’t leave me. I hate hospitals.”

Billie Joe turned his head to kiss my temple and sighed against it. “You’ll be fine, baby. Don’t think I won’t be out here raising hell over this, either, because I will, sweetie. Just go in there, get them to tell us what you need to eat and the rest of that shit or that he was just sleeping. Get them to confirm that he’s healthy and then it’ll be all over and we’ll go out to dinner, alright? I love you.”

I nodded into his ear, his bright hair almost somewhat comforting me as it brushed up against my forehead and eyes. “I love you, too,” I whimpered. I kissed his sideburn and rubbed my nose against it before finally prying myself off of him and out of his arms. Billie Joe gave me one last reassuring smile and gently gripped my arm as I wiped a few nervous tears from my eyes and hugged Sydney.

She kissed my cheek. “You’ll be fine, mom. Just think about your cravings and dinner after and you won’t even remember that we’re in a hospital at all.”

I laughed despite everything and nodded, thanking her before hesitantly following the nurse that I so badly wanted to snarl every insult my mind could think of at. Billie Joe sighed and ran a hand through his blonde hair, pausing to tug on it a few times. He turned to the receptionist and shot her a glare once he saw how young she was and the sympathetic look on her face. “You’ll understand someday when you’ve got a family.”

Without another word, Billie Joe placed his hand on the small of his teenage daughters back and guided her up to the waiting room where there was a few TV’s mounted on the wall, more comfortable chairs and many other people. He smiled meekly to a few as they did the same to him as he entered with Sydney. It was a sincere gesture, to smile when someone else entered the waiting room in a hospital, because it meant that there was now someone else praying for good news about a beloved one. Billie wanted to quickly explain that he was only there for something that didn’t need any hope since there was nothing wrong, only a slight scare, but he bit his tongue. After snarling at the nurse and receptionist, he didn’t quite feel like making a fool out of himself anymore.

Billie Joe led his daughter over to a few chairs away from a lot of people and eased himself into one, grabbing a magazine to occupy his thoughts while Sydney text messaged next to him. They both sat in silence for a few moments until Sydney placed her phone on her lap and looked up at her dad with sad eyes. “You think mom’s alright?” She asked.

Billie Joe looked up from the article on Miley Cyrus’s “wild night out” and how she had been arrested to Sydney. “Your mother? Oh, I bet she’s fine. She’ll get over the fear of the hospital quickly. We’ve been here a lot lately, so it’s not all that bad.”

Sydney ran a hand through her hair and nodded. “I meant with Zach.”

“Oh,” Billie Joe mumbled, his eyes crawling across the words that were placed on his lap. “Fine,” he encouraged with a soft smile though didn’t look up. “Your mom’s tough, Syd.” Somewhat. “I mean, we had you when she was twenty-one. If things were fine back then, then I’m sure they’re fine now.” He shrugged. “She just panic’s sometimes and-and that’s normal. I mean, I’d rather have her be cautious while pregnant than not notice that he hasn’t kicked after a few days.”

Sydney nodded slowly and looked down while her phone buzzed. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go with her cause of me. I know she probably wanted you to help her.”

Leaning over the arm rests; Billie Joe wrapped an arm around his daughter and hugged her against his chest. “Don’t worry, Syd. Your mom’s fine and there’s no reason to apologize. It’s the pricks here that stopped us.”

Sydney hugged her dad back, knowing it was more of a hug for comfort than it was to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault, even though it’s what he meant it to be. She leant closer to her dad and gently brushed her lips to his cheek, recognizing the worry in her father’s eyes. Billie Joe smiled at his daughter, murmuring a quiet thank you before sitting back in his chair and handing her the magazine, realizing he had no interest in it.

It was about ten minutes later when Sydney looked up from the articles she was reading in the magazine and over to her father, who was now hunched forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands while he rubbed his temples gently. She thought his eyes looked a bid bloodshot though she knew he hadn’t been crying; it simply wasn’t that kind of bloodshot.

It was the kind of bloodshot that he was paying for now, as he sat nursing a headache. In fact, after sitting and nursing his headache for a few minutes, he almost got up to ask for an aspirin but decided to keep back. A feeling of regret seemed to start to spread throughout his body that seemed to start within his headache. Regret because while his wife was worrying about their unborn child, he had been drinking and sulking downstairs while using the excuse of “I’m writing”.

Billie Joe covered his eyes with his hands, rubbing them slowly. He eventually spread his fingers apart to peak through them at the clock mounted over the wall and sighed loudly, catching Sydney’s attention. It had been fifteen minutes since his wife had left with the bitch of a nurse and he was already getting anxious. Mentally, he tried to figure out the time a normal visit took between the sonogram and whatnot. But this was just really to see if Zach was alright, it wasn’t a regular appointment—that was in a few weeks. So this shouldn’t be long.

Billie Joe’s eyes wandered slowly from the clock down to his lap. Relax, he thought while biting onto his bottom lip and squeezing his eyes closed. Everything is fine. Joe wasn’t crying and she usually cries a lot—even at little things. It’s a sign that your baby is fine.

Billie Joe slowly ran a hand through his blonde hair and exhaled loudly as he felt a wave of nausea hit him. It wasn’t strong, so he didn’t jump up and trek it to the bathroom. Though, he did start to think a lot more. When was the last time that he had gotten sick? He was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten sick yesterday or the day before—which was odd considering nausea usually struck every damn day.

He felt like a girl counting the days since she had last gotten her goddamn period.

The forty-six year old rock star chuckled quietly to himself while sliding his hand from his hair to the back of his neck, where he scratched and rubbed. Alright, chill. he reminded himself. Joe was thirty-five years old. Thirty five was still incredibly young. Hell, when he was thirty-five he was starting Foxboro Hot Tubs and touring with Mike and Tre [shortly] for it. Thirty five was the new twenty five. So by concluding that his wife was only thirty-five meant that his wife was still incredibly young [and he wasn’t all too old himself] so things should have been fine. Her body was perfectly capable of holding a baby. For Christ sakes, woman in their fifties were having babies now! Full grown, healthy babies!

Another wave.

Billie Joe groaned accidently audibly, catching his daughters’ [and a few people around him] attention. He leant closer to his daughter and allowed her to pull out an earphone before he spoke quietly to her. “Hey,” he murmured, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to head to the bathroom quickly. Will you be alright?”

Sydney nodded hesitantly. “Of course. Are you alright?”

Billie Joe nodded back at his daughter. "Oh, yeah," he said with a shrug, "I'm fine. I've just got to go quickly; I'll be right back." With that said, Billie Joe lifted himself up from the chair he had been situated in for the past fifteen or so minutes and walked quickly out of the waiting room and to the hospital lobby. He passed the hallway that lead to where he had been fifteen minutes ago, standing next to his wife while snapping at the nurse and paused momentarily to stare down it and glance over his shoulder. Would going down it and finding where his wife and fourth child were take so long?

Most likely, because his sense of direction sucked especially when he was nervous like now. He knew he’d start searching for his wife calmly for the first few minutes and then start to panic--just like in CVS back in Los Angeles when he was searching for Nicorette.

A nasty rumble and turn of his stomach as if to tell him no caused Billie Joe to grip it in agony. He groaned slightly, catching the receptionists’ attention. A blush rose up on his cheek as he waved in embarrassment. “Fine, thanks. I’m fine.” And then he sprinted to the men’s bathroom.

It was about twenty minutes later when Billie Joe reentered the waiting room and took his seat next to Sydney, who had a book opened on her lap but was once again texting. Silently thanking his wife for forcing him to get unlimited texting for the family plan they were on, he sat back in his chair. Once Sydney tucked her phone back into her jeans pocket, she looked up at her father with a cocked eyebrow. Billie Joe looked back down at teenager next to him and cocked an eyebrow right back at her. “What? Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“You just like to have you picture taken,” Sydney muttered while sticking out her tongue playfully. Billie Joe cracked a grin and decided not to go against his family with that one.”Besides, did you get like, lost?”

“You’re fresh,” Billie Joe pointed out. “I have authority to ground you since I’m half of the equation here. And yeah, maybe I did. You got something to say?” Sydney chuckled and smirked at her dad, shrugging. Billie Joe turned back and let his eyes focus on the TV as Sydney popped her earphones back into her ears. After five or so minutes of staring blankly at the screen, Billie Joe nudged Sydney. She looked up from her iPod and cocked an eyebrow, then pulled her earphones out once realizing her dad was going to talk to her. “Have they said anything about your mom and brother?”

Sydney shook her head. “Nope, nothing.”

Billie sighed softly, swallowing back a scowl. His eyes wandered up to the clock mounted on the wall and for the first time he realized that he had been inside this damn hospital for nearly an hour now. Granted, an hour wasn’t a long time, but for fuck’s sake, this wasn’t a goddamn surgery! It was just to see if Zachary was alright or not—they weren’t fucking cutting up Joe and moving him.

…Or were they?

The forty-six year old rock star shifted in the seat slowly, feeling a pang of anxiety hit him. Sydney looked up from her book to her father and then back down after seeing them he had closed his eyes. However, she looked up again once she heard a door close and looked over towards it. A smile spread over her face as a tall figure quietly made its way to where she and Billie had been seated.

Upon seeing his daughter look up, Billie Joe also did the same. Unlike Sydney, a large frown scrawled across his face. For crying out loud, couldn’t he fucking ever get away from this kid? Ever?! Well, at least he hadn’t seen much of him ever since he had picked up Joe from his stupid house—however he couldn’t say the same for his wife, and quite honestly, it made his blood boil somewhat.

Sydney closed her book and stood up to hug Travis and then they both sat down after Travis shot a friendly smile to Billie, in which Billie returned because he had no choice, really. The bastard would always fucking be there. “Dad,” Sydney murmured, gently shaking her father’s shoulder to break him out of his thought. Billie looked over at Sydney and cocked an eyebrow, wordlessly answering her. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Travis leaning forward next to Sydney to look at both of them. “Umm, Travis is here.”

Billie’s eyes narrowed. “Yes,” he agreed slowly, “I see that.”

Sydney smiled slightly as did Travis. “Dad, you can go see mom now.” She giggled slightly at having watched her father for the last hour. “You’ve been doing nothing but staring at the clock. When you went to the bathroom earlier I called Travis and asked him to come here since I knew he’d come and that you didn’t want to leave me here alone.”

Billie Joe scoffed. His daughter called the one guy that she must have known he hated and expected him to just leave her in his arms? Granted, Travis was pretty responsible, but fuck that. Travis wasn’t married or have kids. The only thing he had going for him was that he was in love with his wife and would of course look after her kid. “Sydney,” Billie Joe started slowly, “Syd, I was fine with sitting here with you.” His eyes flickered up to Travis’s and though Sydney didn’t, Travis certainly caught the sneer. “You’re my daughter.”

“And that’s your wife,” Sydney reasoned, not noticing that she seemed to be digging the dagger deeper into Travis’s back. “Seriously, dad, I told you I didn’t mind if you went with mom before and you said you wouldn’t cause you refused to leave me alone. I saw you getting anxious so I thought that if I had someone else to come, then you’d be fine and you could go and see mom.”

“That bull, Sydney. I’m not leaving you. I’m your father.”

“And Travis is moms’ best friend.” It was creepy how much Sydney sounded like her mother as she said that. And in a way, it angered him. Sydney rolled her eyes once seeing the expression on her father’s face. “Fine then. Sit here without any information on mom for only god know how long because you’re stubborn.” She shrugged. “Whatever..”

No, what was creepy was how much Sydney was like her father. Had she added a few ‘fuck’s’ and other friendly words to her spiel and he would have started to wonder how she got inside his mind. Billie Joe continued to sit in his chair for a few minutes as Sydney turned to explain the current situation to Travis, mulling things over in his mind. He was craving to see what was going on with his wife yet letting Travis stay with Sydney made his blood boil.

“Billie,” Travis called softly with that fucking deep voice of his, “you should go and see Mandy. You know she hates hospitals and whether or not things are going perfectly fine, I’m sure she’d want her husband there with her—especially if they’re using any kind of needle.”

No, what made his goddamn blood boil was Travis voicing his opinion. Travis didn’t know anything about his wife compared to him or Sydney so why the fuck did he feel as if he should be able to tell Billie what “the right thing to do” was.

“Yeah,” Billie Joe admitted while lifting a hand up to cover his eyes as he leant forward in his seat, resting his other arm on his knee and his head in that hand. “Yeah. I—I just hate to leave.”

Noticing that the moody rock stars’ guard was down, Travis decided to speak again knowing that he would most likely get away with it. “I’ll stay with Sydney, Billie. Be with your wife who is probably beside herself in that room.”

Billie Joe nodded slowly and took his head from his hand and his other hand from his eyes. He leant over to Sydney and kissed her cheek. “Alright, I’ll be back. I’ll be back.” He stood up slowly and brushed off his shorts as if there was something on them and hesitantly stuck out a hand to Travis, trying his hardest to be civil. “Thanks, man.”

Travis shook Billie’s hand and smiled slightly awkwardly up at him. “Any time.”

Billie Joe forced one last pathetic smile and then slid out of the waiting room and to the lobby. He looked up at the receptionist that had been the one to gawk at him before when he had began to feel sick on the way to the bathroom and yet again tried to force a friendly smile though he was almost positive that it came out as a grimace. She looked up at him and actually smiled back at him. “Are you alright?” She asked slowly.

“Me?” He asked in confusion. A deep blush rose to his cheeks when he realized how she had seen him before. “Oh, yeah, fine, thanks. Could you tell me what room my wife is in?”

She seemed to hesitate and then nodded slowly. “Sure. Name?”

“Joe,” he answered automatically and then groaned. “No, no. Amanda—Armstrong.”

Through his mutters, she managed to pick out the name that Billie Joe was trying to admit and typed it into the Mac sitting in front of her. After a moment she bit onto her bottom lip and shifted her eyes from the screen to the man leaning over the counter to the best of his ability in hopes of seeing the screen. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t really tell you that. I thought you meant she was staying in a room overnight.”

After a second or so, Billie Joe stood upright and scowled loudly, running a hand over his tired face. “Listen,” he snapped. “I was fucking allowed to go in before but I wasn’t able to because we had our daughter and that nurse of yours was a bitch. Thankfully, my daughter is a sweetheart and called my wife’s best friend to come since I refused to fucking leave her alone in the goddamn waiting room because that’s insane. My wife is behind some fucking closed doors, five months pregnant with our kid so god help you if you do not tell me where I can fucking locate my wife right now because I swear on my fucking life I will go knocking on every goddamn door down that hallway they lead her down until I find where she is.”

He watched impatiently as her eyes shifted back and forth until she grabbed a paper from in front of her and wrote down a number. “You didn’t get it from me.” She handed it to him. “Don’t you dare get me fired.”

For the first time since the receptionist had seen this man, he didn’t look as uptight. In fact, his shoulders actually slumped a bit as he relaxed and gripped the yellow piece of paper. “Thank you,” he sighed. With a quick smile he was off and down the hallway, cursing under his breathing on how “fucking stupid these numbers are”. It took Billie a good five or ten minutes before he was able to find the door with the plate on it that matched what was written on the paper. Hesitantly, he knocked on it softly. Before he could call out his wife’s name, he heard a muffled ‘come in’. “Joe?” Billie Joe cooed softly as he twisted the handle to the door and pushed it open slowly.

From the chair in the middle of the room I turned to look over my shoulder and was immediately overcome with relief. “Oh god, Billie!” I cried out. I pushed myself out of the chair and stumbled into my husband’s welcoming arms, sobbing loudly into them. “Oh thank god. Oh thank god, Billie. I’ve been pleading with them to let you and Sydney back for the past hour but they wouldn’t!” I paused and lifted my head from Billie Joe’s warm chest and looked past him. “Billie, where’s Sydney?”

“Travis came,” he stated honestly. “Sydney called him since I was apparently getting too anxious in the waiting room. Joe, baby, what’s been taking so long?”

Immediately the tears began to pour from my eyes as I felt my legs go out from underneath me while my heart sank down into my chest. The past hour of my life had possibly been the worst hour of my life. “Oh god, Billie,” I whimpered into one of the tattoos on the arm that was wrapped around me.

Before I was able to continue to sob into Billie’s chest, he kicked the heavy door shut behind us with his heal and backed me across the doctors room until my back hit the chair I had been previously sitting in. He then pushed me back so that I was sitting down on it and knelt down. He slid in-between my legs with his arms wrapped around my waist. “What have they said, babe?” He asked

“Nothing!” I cried out while wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my nose into his cheek as I shut my eyes. “They haven’t told me a god damn thing, Billie! They did all—all these tests and I kept begging them for you and Sydney or at least one of you but I knew you’d never leave Sydney and—and I don’t know--,”

Billie Joe took one hand from my back and placed it on my lips, shushing me. “Joe, Joe baby relax. Relax, I’m here now.”

“Oh Billie no,” I cried despite his finger on my lips. At once, any tears that hadn’t been shed before now came pouring from my eyes as my body racked with sobs. Billie Joe’s mouth dropped in shock as he frantically gathered me in his arms despite the fact that I was practically wrapped around him.

Before he had the time to calm me down at all, the door to the room we were in opened and a man that Billie didn’t recognize though I did and Alicia both stepped in. As soon as I caught sight of them, the tears poured out of my eyes quicker and I found myself clawing at my husband’s t-shirt, trying to bring his body as close as possible to me.

Billie Joe’s eyes ran over the two faces that were hesitantly walking closer to the two of us and instantly he pulled me closer into his arms while my body continued to shake with sobs. As if the sobs that had filled the room weren’t enough, the look on their solemn faces was like the icing on the fucking cake. Refusing to look at them again or learn any information from the two doctors, Billie Joe turned back to his wreck of a wife and nuzzled his nose into my ear. “Joe, baby, what’s going on? What’s wrong with Zach?”

As soon as the words left his mouth he felt as if he was going to be sick because as soon as he heard them, he realized that there was in fact something wrong. Something was wrong with our baby. “They won’t tell me,” I sobbed into his chest. “I don’t know. They haven’t told me but they didn’t need to tell me, Billie.”

“That doesn’t mean there’s something wrong,” he tried to reason. Subconsciously, Billie Joe placed a hand on my round stomach the same way he had done so as soon as he had learned that I was pregnant to begin with. As soon as he did so, I felt my body jerk back as if he had burnt me and I pushed his hand off with both of my hands and then him completely away from me. Billie Joe stumbled a few steps back in surprise with wide eyes and caught himself on the counter across from where I was sitting. He looked over to the two silent doctors.

The man cleared his throat. “Mrs. Armstrong, we’re going to try to detect your babies’ heartbeat once again. Doctor Stross here believes that it could be as simple as the fetus being facing the wrong way.”

I nodded slowly while lifting my hand to wipe away my tears frantically, completely ignoring the lost look on my husband’s face. I lied back on the chair as I had done a good fifteen or so minutes ago and let them spread the cold jelly across my protruding stomach as I tried my best to mute my sobs and stop myself from breathing as heavily as I had been. However, that was difficult to do when I felt as if I couldn’t breathe at all. About a minute or so later I tore my eyes away from the screen and searched the room anxiously for the man that I had pushed away from me a few minutes ago to find that he was standing right next to me, completely avoiding my eyes. It was almost like he refused to look at me because he knew—he knew as well as I did.

The overwhelming feeling of loss and failure spread throughout my body as I realized that not only my husband was avoiding eye contact with me, but everyone else in the room. “Please,” I croaked. “Please, tell me he’s okay. He was so healthy; everyone said he was so healthy!” The radiologist refused to look at me, but continued to search for the one thing no one could seem to find.

“Mrs. Armstrong, when was the last time you felt Zachary kick?”

I lifted a shaking hand to cover my mouth as a sob escaped my lips. “I don’t know!” I cried out in anger. “I don’t remember!”

For the first time, Billie Joe’s eyes caught mine. “Joe,” he murmured, “you said you didn’t feel him kicking today—that’s why we came tonight.”

“I don’t know, goddamnit!” I cried out. “Stop fucking telling me what I said I don’t remember! I don’t remember every goddamn time he’s kicked!” Billie Joe finally looked away from me and took a step back to lean against the counter. He placed one elbow in one of his hands and his face in the other with his eyes closed. “Billie,” I cried weakly.

“I’m sorry,” the radiologist admitted after a moment. I pulled myself up on the chair and buried my head in my hands, sobbing loudly as the feeling of loneliness joined in with loss and failure. I felt a hesitant hand place itself on my shoulder and the feeling of an arm wrapping itself around my chest.

I didn’t hear them try to tell me how this happened many more times than it should have and how there was really never a specific reason, instead all I could concentrate on was how inconsiderate these bastards were for doing so. I found myself nearly choking Billie as I pulled him by the collar of his shirt against my body and pleaded with him to stop them from touching my baby—from touching our baby. “Joe,” he whispered into my ears over my sobs as the two left us alone for a moment. “Joe, baby--,”

“Don’t call me that!” I shrieked, choking over my own saliva. “Don’t fucking call me that!”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. I felt his hands rub my back gingerly. “I’m so sorry; I won’t call you that.”

I knew he wasn’t apologizing for calling me baby.