A Ballad For Beulah

Mike looked back and forth between his best friend and the child, his heart pounding at the revelation in his own mind, having just put two and two together. And, frankly, it didn't take rocket science to figure any of it out. From all the baby pictures of Billie Joe that Mike had seen over the years and from how Joey and Jakob looked like as babies and toddlers, there was no doubt in Mike's mind about this baby boy's parentage.

Beulah and Billie Joe.

And needless to say, the shorter punk rocker was in a slight state of shock as he continued holding the child that was so obviously his son.

Billie Joe swallowed back yet another lump in his throat as wide, nervous eyes looked into Mike's calmer ones, shaking his head.

"He cannot be my son," he muttered.

"Well..." Mike trailed, a little unsure of how to go about this. "If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck..."

"Can you not bring fucking ducks into this Mike!" Billie Joe hissed quietly.

"Bill, all signs point to this kid being yours. Judging by how old he looks, and if you count back about a year, that's March or April of last year of when he was born. Then go back nine months from that, and the conception date was either...June or July of 2000. And you slept with Beulah in June."

"But maybe she slept with someone else after me. Or right before me."

Mike tilted his head, giving his friend a knowing look. "Are you telling me you can't see yourself in this boy?"

Billie Joe's face fell even more as he handed the baby off to Mike and stormed out of the bedroom, looking for Beulah.

"Anything you wanna explain to me?"

Mike grimaced when he heard Billie Joe's demanding voice while he managed to hold the little boy in his arms. Nice, fucking approach to the situation, Bill. Propping the boy up so that his little face was resting against his chest, Mike stepped out of the bedroom and frowned at the sight of Billie Joe closing the gap between him and Beulah who was leaning forward, gripping the edge of the countertop in her kitchenette.

"What do you want me to explain?" she sniffled. "I got pregnant, I had our son. End of explanation."

"No. No, that explains nothing!" Billie Joe exclaimed. It was clear that the older punk was at wit's end, trying to work out in his mind what was gonna happen now. "How come you didn't try and get a hold of me? How come he's gotta be mine?"

Mike saw how that last question seemed to tear at Beulah's heart. "Billie," he called out in a slightly reprimanding tone.

"Shut up, Mike." Turning his attention back to Beulah he ran a hand through his hair and stared at her with questioning eyes. "I have a wife and two sons already! I can't have a bastard child with someone I slept with one night, two years ago!"

"It's not like I planned on it!" she shouted back through her tears.

Billie Joe winced, those being his own words in regard to the sleeping with her situation. "He can't be mine," Billie Joe pressed, shaking his head adamantly. "He just can't."

"Too late," Beulah muttered, sadly. "He is."

"What's his name?" Mike wondered, trying to somehow break the tension.

Both of Beulah and Mike's blue eyes locked for a moment. "Bailey," she responded, turning her gaze to Billie Joe to make sure he heard the name. "Bailey Mason Armstrong."

"What?" Billie Joe practically squealed. "You gave him my last name? How is it that none of your brothers put two and two together?"

"You're not the only Armstrong in the world. I told them the father was this guy I met one night. Him and I had a few too many drinks and slept together. And that the only thing I remembered about his name was that his last name was Armstrong," she informed. "I saved your ass and kept you out of it, because I knew the truth could ruin everything you had."

Mike's heart was breaking so horribly for her as he cradled her son in his arms, while looking between Bailey's parents.

"So you kept it a secret," Billie Joe muttered in disbelief.

She nodded. "Yes. I did. And as a result, two of my brother's think less of me and won't talk to me. And my sister, Claire, never hesitates to imply that I became a whore."

"You're not a whore," Mike spoke.

She looked up at him appreciatively. "Thanks for thinking so."

Billie Joe seemed to be fighting with himself as he looked down to the ground and covered his face with his hands. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit...what do I do now?"

Mike walked toward his friend, nudged him to stand up straight, and then passed Bailey off to Billie Joe. "You wanna know what to do?" Mike repeated. "Hold your son."

* * *

Beulah found herself sitting Indian-style on her couch as the sounds of Bailey giggling wafted from his bedroom where Billie Joe was, more or less, getting to know his son.

Her chest felt incredibly heavy with her own guilt, trying to focus all her attention to the discolored patch on her carpet from something that had been spilled on it long before she moved in. When she saw a pair of lean legs walk by out the corner of her eye, she looked up, just as Mike sat down beside her, handing her a glass of Kool-Aid.

"Here," he said, as she took the glass from him.

"Thank you," she replied.

A moment of silence fell over them as Mike sat beside her with his legs parted slightly and his hands folded in his laps. Beulah brought the glass to her lips and took a leisurely sip, then resting it on her right leg which was almost touching Mike's.

"I wish I knew what happens now," she muttered out of the blue.

Mike turned his head and looked at her with a sympathetic expression. "My guess is that Billie Joe will insist on paying you child support, but given how he feels about his infidelity, he'll want to keep anything he gives you under the radar so that Adrienne won't find out."

"I don't need his money," she insisted.

Mike let out a laugh, despite himself and looked at her with a smirk on his face. "No offense, but have you seen where you live?"

She looked him in the eye and smirked in return. "Yeah, I suppose this place isn't exactly the Bellagio, but it's comfy."

"No, comfy is the Bellagio. This...this is cramped and crying out for a gift card to Pottery Barn," Mike teased.

"Ooh, Pottery Barn. Ain't that where them rich folk go to buy their knick knacks?" she joked in return with a fake Southern accent.

"Might be, little lady," he replied in his own Southern accent.

The two of the laughed as Billie Joe came walking out of the bedroom, holding Bailey's small hands in his as the little boy walked in front of him, taking unsteady steps. Billie Joe was hunched over while he helped his son do so, and when he looked up at Beulah with a smirk, her heart fluttered.

Damn that man for still making her feel weak in the knees despite everything that's happened.

She smirked back.

"He said, 'Da Da.' He called me Da Da," Billie Joe grinned.

"Don't get too excited there, padre," Beulah teased only slightly. "That's the only word he's saying right now, aside from 'Ba Ba.' Da Da is the easiest word for a baby to start saying."

Billie Joe nodded and lifted Bailey up into his arms, giving the little boy a kiss on his chubby little cheek, which really warmed Beulah's heart.

This is what she dreamt about nowadays. That her son would have his father in his life.

"He's so beautiful," Billie Joe commented, looking his son over.

Mike stirred uncomfortably on the couch as he looked down at his lap. He couldn't understand how Billie Joe was going to do all this. And now he was caught in the midst of it. After all, when Bailey grew up and started to look more like Billie Joe, the child's paternity would no longer be questionable for Beulah's brothers that knew Billie Joe. Especially Tom.

"When's his birthday?" Billie Joe inquired.

"March 22nd," Beulah replied. "Of, um...last year. 2001."

"Um...I think I'm gonna call a cab and head back to the Bellagio; see how Tre's doing, and whatnot," Mike remarked.

The bassist stood up and leaned forward to give Beulah a friendly kiss on the cheek. She smiled up at him as he stepped back and moved over to his best friend.

Moving closely to Billie Joe, Mike whispered, "Don't do anything stupid when I go, 'kay?"

"As long as you keep your promise."

"I will," Mike assured. "I'll see you later. And, Beulah," he said as he turned around, to look at her while heading toward the front door. "It was really nice to see you again, despite the circumstances."

"Same here," she replied, standing up to walk him out.

"And you have my number, right?"

She nodded. "Yep."

"Good. I'll see you later," Mike smiled; a twinge of sympathy still in his voice.

Beulah placed her hand on his left, upper arm and gave him a hug, which he returned by snaking said arm around her waist and then placing another kiss on her cheek.

"See ya, Mike," she said softly.

"Bye."

Closing the door behind Mike, Beulah turned around back to Billie Joe and Bailey and gave him a shy smile which caused his stomach to do slight flips and flops.

"Do you, um...wanna stay for dinner?" she wondered.

Nodding his head slowly, Billie Joe shifted his hold on his son from one narrow hip to another. "Sure," he replied simply. "What's on the menu?"

Shrugging, Beulah let out a small laugh. "I dunno. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?"

"Sounds fine."

Beulah stepped forward and took Bailey from Billie Joe, setting the boy on one of her curvy hips. She moved toward the table off the kitchenette where she kept a high chair, which she sat Bailey down in.

"He really is beautiful," Billie Joe repeated his earlier comment.

"Well, he looks like you, so you're only complimenting yourself, you vain rockstar, you."

Smirking, Billie Joe placed his hands on his narrow hips, which caused Beulah to draw her eyes to his now thin physique. He was noticeably trimmer than when she'd seen him two years earlier. Slept with him, even.

"I see you in him, also. And it takes two to tango."

"You're not kidding," she said as she moved toward the kitchenette to pull out a loaf of bread and the peanut butter and jelly from the fridge.

"I'm still sorry about how I treated you, but I need you to know that Adrienne can't find out about what happened between us, and she can't know about Bailey. No one I know can."

Beulah stopped what she was doing and looked up at Billie Joe. "I'm not going to tell," she assured. "But Mike did mention you'd wanna help me out, which I would appreciate."

"Of course. Whatever you need, name it."

Swallowing back a lump of nerves, she bit her bottom lip. "Child support, for one."

"Consider it done. What else?"

"Uh...maybe some nicer things for the apartment so Bailey doesn't have to grow up in a shithole."

"Check and double check." Billie Joe reached out and grabbed a few strands of her hair, twisted them around his fingers and then pushed them behind her ear. "I don't want you to think I used you. Because I did want you, even if it was just that night."

"I don't doubt you did. But did you love me?" she asked, then shook her head. "No, don't answer that."

"A part of me did," he replied anyway. "I fell for your sweetness, your innocence, your personality. And you're very beautiful. Always were, always will be."

Biting her lip shyly, she tried turning her attention back to making the sandwiches, when she felt one of Billie Joe's hands on her face. Turning to look at him, she was surprised when his lips touched down against hers. He nibbled on her fuller bottom lip as his hand snaked around to cradle the back of her neck to pull her deeper in.

Her tongue flitted across his upper lip as she began to melt against his body.

"Billie..."

"I'm not a bad man," he muttered against her lips, turning her body so that her lower back was pressed against the the counter and their hips were grinding into one another.

Beulah cupped the sides of his face as he braced himself by wrapping one arm around her back and his free hand gripped the countertop.

And at that moment, things would've gotten a little out of hand if it weren't for Bailey's loud, baby gibberish echoing into the kitchenette.

Breaking apart instantaneously, Billie Joe found himself licking his lips and sorting through what he'd just initiated, and grimacing. "Sorry," he muttered.

"It...it's okay," she replied, trying to catch her breath. "I just, uh...need to finish these sandwiches. Why don't you go out there with Bailey and I'll bring these out," she gestured to their own sandwiches and a separate plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich cut up into very tiny pieces for Bailey.

Nodding his head, touching his fingers to his lips, he turned and stepped out of the kitchenette, leaving Beulah to her pounding heart.