Always There

With curious doe-like, green eyes, Billie Joe watched the shorter, petite form of his daughter stepping slowly into his living room with her hands stuffed in her pockets; a gesture that made him smirk. Simply because he did the same thing.

"Well, um...why don't you take off your coat and backpack?"

"Huh? Oh, okay."

Olivia slid the backpack off her shoulder, letting it drop to the floor as Billie Joe walked up to her and helped pull the coat off. He took it from her and hung it up on the coat rack before leading her into the living room.

"So, you wanna have a seat and tell me why you're here, alone, on a school day?" he began sitting down in the black, leather recliner that was positioned across from the brown couch. Hunching forward a bit with his hands folded between his knees, he waited for her response.

She sank down onto the couch, crossing one leg up under her, like Maria always did. It amused him at all the little things she was doing that reminded him of Maria and himself.

"I ran away," she began quite simply.

"You ran away?" he repeated. "Why'd you run away?"

"Because I hate my mom." Olivia paused, meeting his eyes briefly before looking down at her fidgety fingers. "She told me the truth...about you and her. And me. And, um...I hate her from keeping it from me because I should've known the truth. And I hate being at home anyway, because Mitch doesn't really like me that much, and you hate my mom anyway, so I thought I'd run away. I wasn't gonna go to my friend Crystal's house because her mom woulda taken me home and I wasn't gonna go hide out in some rundown building where some creepy guy could kidnap me."

"So you ran away?" Billie Joe repeated again, making sure he understood her. "What about your mom? She's gotta be worried sick."

"So. I hate her. And you hate her too because she never told you anything, so I thought the best thing to do would be to come here, because you wouldn't tell her to get back at her."

Billie Joe sat back in his chair and knitted his brow. "Olivia...I don't hate your mother," he assured her. "I'm just upset is all. I could never hate her, no matter how hard I tried. And you know what? I highly doubt you hate her as well."

Olivia frowned, biting her bottom lip and pushing some hair behind her ear. Finally lifting her eyes back up to him, she sighed. "Well...if you don't hate her...why'd you let her go? Why didn't you try to find her...and me?"

Swallowing back a lump in his throat, Billie Joe scratched at his head for a moment, wondering how to respond. "It wasn't my choice to make her stay," he started slowly. "She was going to Ecuador for the spring semester of her Junior year at Cal Berkeley. And I was touring the country a little with my band. We were just...going in two different directions. As for looking for her afterward...it wasn't that easy. I'd gotten back together with Adrienne, who's my wife now, and I figured that Maria, your mom, had moved on and started this great career she'd always dreamed of. But I never stopped thinking about her."

"You didn't?" Olivia repeated, her face brightening a little.

"No," he shook his head. "In fact, I wrote a number of songs about her. You're a fan of my band, right?" he smirked as she nodded her head shyly. "Well, you know the song 'She' from Dookie?" When she nodded again he made a gesture with his hand. "Well, your mom had written this poem that was also called 'She', and it was about this woman who was strong-willed and wanted people to stop telling her how she should live her life. Your mom gave the original copy to me, which I still have, and I wrote the song in response to it. 'Chump' and 'Sassafras Roots' were about her too."

"Wow. Really?"

"Yep."

"What're the other songs?" Olivia wondered.

Billie Joe sighed as he thought them over in his head. "Oi...uh...well, from Nimrod I wrote 'Haushinka' and 'Scattered' about her. Then there's...um, 'Maria', which is probably really obvious...and, uh, well...from the new album, I kinda based 'Whatsername' after your mom. Actually you're the first person I've told that to."

He watched as Olivia perked up quite a bit at him mentioning all this. But then her smile faded and was replaced by a look of guilt.

"You're right, you know. I don't hate my mom. It's just that I've loved all your music since I was, like, five. And my mom started buying me your albums when 'Warning' came out, when she thought I was mature enough to listen to them. It's like...maybe in her own way she was trying to bring you into my life in some way. I dunno," she shrugged.

"Well, I'm glad I could be there," he laughed a little ruefully.

"But it wasn't easy. Listening to your music. Because when Mitch first heard it, he threatened to throw it all out because it was all crap music. He actually broke my Dookie CD last year 'cause he came home early and caught me listening to it in my regular CD player instead of on my portable one. But my mom bought me a new one."

Billie Joe frowned as well this time. "I take it you don't like your stepdad either?"

She shook her head. "Not really. I mean, he has his nice moments, but most of the time I wish he'd never come home." She focused on a spot on the floor while Billie Joe noticed her chin quiver. "Sometimes I hate him so much that I put on my headphones and sit in my room, just wishing the music could drown everything out. Even before my mom told me that you were...my dad...I used to listen to your music, wishing you or the whole band would just come take me away. I even wished that you were my dad and then when I saw you in Central Park, it was kinda like being as close to my wish as I could ever get."

"Well, you got your wish," Billie Joe smiled. "'Cause I really am your dad." The way her nose seemed to get a little red and her nostrils flared, alerted him. He was all too familiar with those things because Joey and Jakob did the same thing right before they started to cry.

And sure enough, that's what Olivia began to do.

Her tears began to roll down her cheeks and she dipped her head in embarrassment. His own eyes watered as he slipped from his chair instinctively and knelt before his newfound daughter, opening his arms up and pulling her in for a tight, loving hug. Her smaller arms wrapped their way around his neck as she buried her head against his shoulder. Billie Joe patted her back and then held the back of her head, listening to her sniffle away.

"Can I call you Dad?" he heard her mumble against the material of his shirt.

Billie Joe had to force down a sob of contentment as he nodded his head. "Of course you can," he replied. "I wouldn't have it any other way."