A Ballad For Beulah

It was close to seven when the threesome plus Bailey arrived to the restaurant in question for Beulah's birthday dinner. They were seated in a private section that had been reserved ahead of time, much to the birthday girl's surprise, and started off with drinks.

And it was, in all honesty, a nice time. Although, the moment between Billie Joe and Mike prior to first getting into the car, still hung over both of their heads.

They moved from drinks to the entrees which consisted of breaded mushrooms and zucchini, along with cheese sticks. The latter Bailey seemed to love more than his own boogers, because the warm cheese was gooey and he enjoyed playing with it.

Sitting between his parents, Bailey turned to his right to look at his mommy and reached for his sippy cup full of milk.

"Mommy..." he muttered, his hands clenching and unclenching to signify he wanted his drink now. "My dwink."

"What do you say?"

"Peeze an' dank oo."

Smirking, Beulah happily obliged her son, handing him his sippy cup as Billie Joe reached out his hand and brushed his son's hair out of his face while taking a bite of breaded zucchini.

"Good boy," Billie Joe muttered.

Bailey gave his daddy a big, toothy grin while putting his sippy cup to his lips; the milk dribbling down his chin a little.

Mike, during all this, simply looked on, his mind racing with what was going on between the two. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it was as if he could sense some sort of underlining...thing going on.

When the meal was ordered, it became a chore to get Bailey to sit still and it was at that moment, halfway through the dinner, that Billie Joe's cell phone began to ring.

Pulling it out of his pocket, he checked the number and than the look on his face expressed a fleeting moment of either fear, guilt or both.

"Uh...I gotta take this," he muttered to Beulah and Mike as he pushed his chair back, stood up and walked out of the dining area.

Beulah's face was crossed in some confusion as she watched Billie Joe's figure disappear. She turned to Mike to see if he knew, and the look on his face suggested he did.

"What was that all about?" she inquired, while also keeping Bailey from throwing his fork onto the floor again.

Pulling his glass away from his lips, Mike set it down and frowned sympathetically for some reason he couldn't explain. "Adrienne," he answered simply.

Beulah seemed like she wanted to comment, but all she mumbled was an, "Oh."

Mike watched her as she lowered her eyes and tried focusing most of her attention on her son. He felt bad for her. He could tell she was a little saddened because he knew she still felt a great deal of love or whatnot for Billie Joe, and he also knew that Billie Joe...well, actually...he didn't really know what Billie Joe felt regarding all this.

It was a pain to be stuck in the middle of it, harboring the secret of Bailey's conception and existence, not to mention Billie Joe's infrequent visits to see his son. But Billie Joe was his best friend, and he considered Beulah to be a friend also. And even though he wasn't close to her, the last thing he wanted was to see her hurting because she was such a sweet woman who deserved everything the world could offer her.

"Beulah," he spoke, catching her attention. "Let me deal with Bailey. You haven't been able to touch your food yet," he insisted. "It's getting cold."

"No, that's okay. I---"

"It's your birthday. You are not obligated to do anything," he smirked as he stood up and moved to sit in Billie Joe's chair. "C'mere, buddy," he said to the toddler. "Let's behave like a good boy so mommy can eat her dinner, 'kay?"

"No," Bailey shot out. Then, smiled.

"Bailey," Mike said, narrowing his eyes into a stern expression, his soft blue eyes suddenly becoming hard like steel. "Eat your dinner like a good boy and leave your mommy be."

Bailey looked at Mike, his pretty green eyes widening as his chin quivered a little.

"You gonna be a good boy?" Mike continued.

The two-year-old nodded his head and appeared as if he couldn't pull his gaze away from Mike, to which Beulah was greatly impressed.

"Wow," she commented. "How did you do that?"

"Magic," Mike grinned over at her.

"Well, I appreciate it. I mean, I know these are the Terrible Twos, but it's hard to deal with sometimes. For the most part, it's just me telling him right from wrong and how to behave, but it's kinda nice to have someone help out."

As she spoke, there was a twinge of regret in her voice which reached Mike's ears without any problem at all.

"It was nothing," he shrugged. "He's only a kid. You gotta make him understand you're the boss."

"Yeah, I suppose." She continued to eat her meal, when she looked up at Mike who was watching Bailey with a smile. "How's your life going?" she wondered.

"How's my---oh, it's going real good," Mike nodded. "I'm engaged."

"Really?" she grinned. "Do tell."

"Her name's Sarah. Curly dark hair, tattooed. Real nice, smart. Uh...we're planning on getting married next spring."

"Oh, congratulations," Beulah gushed. "How's your daughter?"

"Estelle's getting big. She's six now, gonna be finishing Kindergarten next month. She makes my day, every time I see her. And, um...well...Billie, Tre and me...we've been working on new material. We're planning on calling the album Valentines and Cigarettes. Should be done by this summer."

"Wow, you really have it all, don'tcha?"

"I like to think so," he laughed. "I mean, it feels like things are starting to really fall into place for me."

"I'm happy for you. I mean, I wish I could say the same for myself...but, hey. My day will come..."

"Of course it will. There'd be no point to living at all if we never had our moment to shine."

"Yeah, but I'm just paranoid that this is all there is. Raising Bailey, working as a server at the MGM Grand, living in a small apartment and becoming a spinster," she remarked with a sad laugh.

"Eh, don't worry. Someday your prince will come."

"I wish he was here now. I don't want to wait for someday."

Reaching his hand across the table, Mike patted hers and gave her a reassuring smile just as Billie Joe walked back into the dining area and forced a smile. He nudged Mike in the shoulder, gesturing for his taller friend to move back to his chair.

When all was said and done, the green eyed guitarist was met by Beulah's questioning gaze, which his readily avoided.

Taking a hint, Beulah sighed and turned her attention back to her meal and her son.

Mike took note of all of this and it just about pissed him off. He was inwardly fuming at how subtly insensitive his best friend was being, even if he didn't even realize it.

But then, something surprising happened.

A group of waiters and waitresses came to encircle their table; one of them holding a plate with a white cake on it that was bedecked with a single candle.

They started to sing "Happy Birthday" to Beulah, placing the cake down in front of her. She looked around the table at Billie, Mike, the workers and her son who was in awe of the lighted candle. When the singing ended, she blew out the candle and the workers walked away, leaving four plates on the table.

"Surprised?" Billie Joe asked.

"Yeah," she replied with a grin. "When did you---"

"After my phone call," he grinned right back. Then, after a moment, he gestured to the cake. "Well, cut the cake, birthday girl."

"Mmm cake, mommy," Bailey muttered.

* * *

When the trio plus Bailey returned home to her apartment later that night, the birthday girl could be found getting her son ready for bed while Billie Joe and Mike sat next to each other, watching some television.

And they sat there in silence, despite both of them clearly wanting to say something to each other.

Even after Billie Joe went into Bailey's room to kiss him goodnight and returned to the couch while Beulah changed into her pajamas, Mike and him remained silent.

Eventually, the green eyed punk rocker bid his friend goodnight and disappeared into Bailey's room where he laid down on the floor with a bunch of blankets and a pillow.

Alone in the living room, Mike stripped down to his boxers and took off his shirt, laying down on the couch, but propping his head up while he flicked through the television channels because he wasn't exactly tired.

At one point he got up and walked into the kitchen to help himself to a glass of water, leaning against the counter when he heard a door creaking open.

Turning his head to the right, he heard the light padding sound of bare feet against the floor before he saw Beulah saunter tiredly into the kitchen.

"Oh, hey. I didn't know you were still up," she commented, pulling the carton of milk from the fridge.

"Can't sleep. I, uh...have a lot on my mind."

"I hear ya," she mumbled.

Mike had to smirk at how adorable she looked. She had to have been asleep for at least two hours at this point and her blonde hair was only slightly disheveled. And, granted Mike was engaged and in love with his fiancee, and thought of Beulah as just a friend, but even he couldn't deny what a looker she was.

Especially in the nightgown she wore.

It was mauve in color with spaghetti straps that came to just above her knees and the front kinda dipped in a V, revealing some of her cleavage. Feeling a little bit like a dirty old man for sneaking a quick peak, he looked away. But he couldn't blame himself for looking.

Any man would've done the same.

"What time do you have to work?" Mike asked as he watched her drink milk straight from the carton.

"Nine," she replied, wiping the corners of her mouth where remnants of milk lingered. "Which means I have to get up by seven at the latest. And it's like...I dunno. Two in the morning. So, I have five hours left." She yawned, starting to walk out into the living room, which confused Mike.

"What're you doing?"

"When I wake up, I drink some milk and then sit down in front of the TV for a little bit until I feel drowsy. Then I drag my feet back to bed and fall to bed, out cold," she explained over her shoulder as she plopped down on the couch.

Feeling a little awkward because he was only in his boxers, Mike took smaller steps into the living room so that his John Thomas didn't pop out and give Beulah a show.

He sat down beside her and the two of them stared at the infomercial on the screen about making money from home that had something to do with collecting ticket things.

"I like the acne infomercials better. It's more realistic," she muttered sleepily.

"Yeah. Or the ones about losing weight. Sometimes I think they get twins for that shit though."

"Whaddaya mean?"

Mike shrugged. "Well, like, they photograph one twin that's fat, and use that as the Before picture. Then they photograph the thin twin and say, 'Yeah, and here we have Sally after she lost 200 pounds,'" Mike said in a cheesy announcer's voice.

"That makes sense..." Beulah agreed as she tilted her head to the side opposite of Mike as she curled up on the couch with her legs tucked under her.

Mike glanced over at her as he watched her blink once, slowly. Then twice, even slower than the first, as she began to fall back to sleep.

"Beulah..."

"Hmm?"

"You're falling asleep."

"No, I'm fine. I'll get up in a minute."

Snickering to himself, Mike turned back to the TV to watch the remainder of the infomercial, but after only five minutes, he heard a light and gentle snoring. A ladylike snoring, if you will.

Turning his attention back to Beulah, he found that she had fallen asleep. Reaching his left hand out, he touched her arm and gave her a soft shake.

"Beulah."

She groaned in response, in that transition between being awake and asleep. "I'm...yeah..."

Laughing a little, Mike shook his head as he stood up and stepped in front of her. Leaning forward, he placed an arm under her knees and the other around her back as he lifted her up into her arms.

He didn't want to wake her up because who knew how long it would take for her to be able to get back to sleep, and he couldn't let her sleep on the couch because she'd never hear her alarm clock go off in the morning. So, he decided he'd carry her into her room, much like he'd done to his daughter when she fell asleep in the car or during a movie and he needed to put her to bed.

Mike looked down at Beulah's face as she curled into him a little more and something stirred in him as he stepped across the threshold into her bedroom and stepped over to her bed, gently laying her down.

He drew her blanket up over her to her waist, brushed some hair from her face and smiled as he watched her body subconsciously get comfortable on the soft mattress of her queen-sized bed.

"Goodnight, Beulah."

* * *

By the time Mike woke up in the morning, Beulah had already left for work and Billie Joe was still out cold on Bailey's bedroom floor. But Bailey wasn't asleep. He was very awake and it blew Mike's mind with how the smaller man could sleep through his son's jabbering.

Stepping over his friend, Mike smiled at Bailey and walked up to the kid's crib which he was still in.

Hooking his hands under the toddler's arms, Mike lifted him up out of the crib and set him on his narrow hip.

"Want some Cheerios?" Mike asked in a whisper.

"Chih-wee-ohs," Bailey repeated, nodding his little head.

Grinning, Mike took the both of them into the dining area just outside the kitchen and set Bailey down in his high chair while he began searching the cupboards for Cheerios. And, yep, there were Honey Nut Cheerios staring him right in the face.

Grabbing the box, he poured a small amount into a bowl and filled it with some milk, grabbed a spoon and brought it out to Bailey, who grabbed his tiny spoon greedily.

"Dank oo," Bailey thanked without having to be told.

"You're welcome, kiddo."

Mike left Bailey for a moment to make himself his own bowl of cereal and then rejoined the toddler for breakfast.

As he watched the boy, he studied him, taking note of how eerily he looked like Billie Joe. Yet, there were things about him that made him think of Beulah. The shape of his face was a little more like hers, and his nose was a little more swoopy than straight like Billie Joe's. And Bailey was just to adorable and there was no doubt that he could grow up to be a great kid.

But, if only Billie Joe could be the kind of dad this toddler's half brothers had all year long.

"You're daddy loves you, Bailey. Don't ever think he doesn't, okay? He may be a big ol' poo poo head a lot of the time, and maybe as you grow up, but he does love you. And you have an awesome mommy."

"Mommy?"

"Yeah, she's awesome."

"Mommy awesome," Bailey repeated, sloppily scooping himself a spoonful of soggy Cheerios.

Mike smirked and ruffled the little boy's head of dark curls. "You're alright, kid."