A Ballad For Beulah

It was almost like magic the way Billie Joe and Mike were able to go about their lives in the following days and weeks as if nothing had transpired in Las Vegas; playing every show together with the same enthusiasm and love for their craft and each other, having been a band for over 16 years. However, that's not to say that during the day, when they weren't playing, everything was just as peachy.

Granted, there wasn't any further bloodshed between the best friends, but they didn't really talk to one another.

There were looks here and there that said what they wanted to say. There were nods of the head along with hand gestures. And, no, they weren't the vulgar ones.

Fortunate for them, their lack of verbal communication didn't raise any red flags amongst Tre and their other friends/tour musicians.

And while there was that oppressive tension between them during the day, they found outlets for defusing said tension; like phone calls to those back home and not quite home.

Namely Beulah and Bailey.

Mike spent what seemed like every night after a show, laying on his back, on his bunk in the tour bus with and arm resting under his neck while his free hand held his cell phone to his ear. He'd bend one knee here, move his arm out from under his neck to scratch at his chest there. He'd listen to the inflection of Beulah's voice when she spoke of certain things that amused her, because she tended to have a bit of an upward lilt sound when she was happy, whereas when she spoke of something that pissed her off, her voice was slightly more monotone.

And it didn't even matter what she would be talking about. Mike just found comfort in listening to her, and he was sure she found that same comfort as well, having him to talk to.

Now, there were the atypical calls Mike made where even Bailey would get on the phone to talk to his 'Uncle Mike,' but there were also those calls made later at night, especially those times where the guys were able to have their own, separate hotel rooms instead of bunking out in the tour bus.

Mike and Beulah would make simple chat about this or that, but the sound of her voice seemed to affect him more and more every time. He found every late night call led to the same thing.

Their voices would drop to just above a whisper, speaking of things only couples of the most intimate nature would do to each other in the most intimate of settings. And all during these 'phone sex trysts,' lazy smiles found their way to Mike's lips as he laid there, in bed, wishing it was Beulah there, instead of his hand.

It almost became too much to bare sometimes because, as much as Mike and Beulah did, in fact, care a great deal about each other, and given their one time together and phone sex since then, there was still the disheartening knowledge that Beulah was still unsure of her feelings for him in the long run.

And Mike knew why she was still confused.

No matter how many times Billie Joe had wronged her and treated her simply as his occasional mistress and the father of his illegitimate son, she still looked to him like she had when she was ten.

But that was 15 years ago.

She just couldn't seem to find a way to push Billie Joe out of her heart and mind. Mostly because he'd always be there, no matter what.

And that was because he was the father to her son.

There was no greater bond to the rockstar than that.

They'd created life together. A human being.

Their child.

On Beulah's side of the tour or, well, lack there of, considering she was doing no such thing, but because...oh, you get the point...she was spending time at home with Bailey, not having to worry about working, for the first time in her life.

With the support checks Billie Joe was finally sending regularly, along with Mike's checks that matched the amount Billie Joe made out to her, she didn't have to worry about working herself into an early grave in order to pay her bills on time and just make the level of lower middle class.

She could now consider herself, simply, middle class.

And that was fine.

Beulah was able to take time to discover the things she enjoyed doing in life. Things she could possibly make a career out of. And considering she was still only 25, she had years to pursue said possible aspirations.

As soon as she realized what they were, of course.

She knew she liked to cook and bake, but that was more of a hobby. Not something she wanted to do until she was 60 and then retire from. She enjoyed writing poetry, but she was no Maya Angelou. Not that she had to, she supposed. Maybe Haikus were her thing. Small, minimal words, that made little sense, if any.

Nah.

Wait, what about---no. She didn't own a horse. Oh, there was, maybe, that thing with the---no. Too confusing. What about...

Egad! The decisions.

At this rate, she'd be unemployed for the rest of her life.

Wait. Wait! Hold the press! Stop! Whoa, doggy!

She knew what she enjoyed.

Art.

Photography, to be exact.

She was always taking pictures of Bailey and random things she thought looked beautiful in a certain light. She even had a little, private stash of photographs she'd taken during high school and thereafter.

Maybe she could take a few night classes at the University during the upcoming spring semester to learn the basics of photography. She'd, of course, need a camera, and film, and maybe she could be just like Novalee Nation, the lead character in the novel Where The Heart Is that was made into a movie that starred Natalie Portman and Ashely Judd.

Coincidentally two of her favorite actresses.

Beulah couldn't help but smile to herself like a giddy school girl.

She was gonna be a photographer!

* * *

"Billie, honey?" came Adrienne's voice while he sat on their bed one night in early November; the American Idiot Tour having, more or less, come to an end. Of course, there were still two more dates left for Australia the following month, but that was nothing.

"Yeah, babe?"

Adrienne walked into the bedroom, wearing nothing but a black slip and her dark brown, dreadlocked hair with random blonde highlights, tied up on top of her head with a plain orange scrunchie, as she stared down at a piece of paper that had, at one point, been folded up in a way that it clearly came from an envelope.

"How come there's kinda the same amount of money disappearing from your account every month?" she wondered naively. "I was going through some papers in the office today when I was cleaning up and whatnot and this bank statement from last month was amongst the papers jammed into one of the drawers. I mean, I recognize some of the amounts are from checks sent out to pay the bills, but there's also little credit card purchases in Vegas at a KB Toy Store and two separate checks for two different amounts," she informed as she continued to look over the bank statement. "One for five thousand, another for six. And did you buy the boys something in Vegas that cost..." she trailed. "82 dollars and 56 cents?"

Billie Joe's green eyes widened with mild panic. But he was also thankful she didn't look up at that moment, giving him time to calm down for when she did.

"Uh...charity. I've been donating twice a month to the, um, Hurricane Katrina Relief Aid fund thingy."

"But I thought we were doing that together?" Adrienne questioned, a little confused.

"We are," he answered a little too quickly. "Um...but I felt the need to make more of a donation on my own."

"Oh," Adrienne nodded, with a growing smile. "Well, that's sweet. But what about the charge to your MasterCard at a KB Toy Store in Vegas?"

"Um..." Might as well bend the truth. "Remember Tom's brother and sister, Nick and Beulah?"

Adrienne nodded. "Of course I do. I used to kinda be pen pals with Beulah after she got her first period," his wife responded with a smirk as she climbed into bed and set the bank statement on her lap. She then added, "D'you know I was the one to help her with that because she didn't have a mom or anything? She was so nervous and scared. In a demented way, it was kinda adorable."

"Yeah, uh...well...they have kids now. And I kinda thought that since the guys and I were in town that we might as well see how they were doing, since the two of them live there, and uh...I bought their kids some toys."

"Aw, little Beulah's a mom now? I thought Tom said something to that effect but I wasn't sure," Adrienne smiled. "What'd she have? Girl or boy?"

"Uh...a boy. She had a son."

"What's his name?"

"Bailey."

"Oh, that's such a cute name," she gushed. "What about Nick, her brother?"

"He had a son, too. His name's Jeremy."

"Aw, now I totally want to see these little kids. Actually, just talking about other people's kids makes me think about, you know..." she trailed off, shifting on the bed and wiggling her eyebrows at him.

"Think about what?" Billie Joe inquired, catching on to the fact that she had bypassed any talk about Beulah and Bailey and was leading toward something he knew was coming.

Adrienne pushed the bank statement off her lap, letting it cascade to the ground in the same manner a feather would, as she sat up a little more, turned her body and climbed up into her husband's lap, smiling down at him as his hands rested on her generous hips.

"I was thinking that maybe we could try for that daughter we always wanted."

Billie Joe's heart lurched.

Great, more of my spawn to think about.

But, despite his hectic feelings, he had to admit it would be really awesome to have a mini Adrienne running around with Joey and Jakob. He knew that his beautiful wife sometimes felt like she was doomed to be the only female in the family.

"And what would this daughter be called?" Billie Joe egged his wife on, running his hands up under Adrienne's slip, causing her to close her brown eyes for a moment.

"Well, I always thought Ava was a cute name."

"Ava Armstrong?"

"Mmhmm. I think Reese Witherspoon and her husband, Ryan-something, named their daughter that. I remember reading it in People or whatever and thought it was such a great name for a girl."

"Babe...any name you think is great is a great name."

Then, wiggling his eyebrows this time, Billie Joe flipped Adrienne off his lap so that she landed on her back on the mattress with a cackle. Hovering over her body, he propped himself up with his elbows as he leaned down and kiss his wife of eleven and a half years.

Her soft smile underneath him was enough to turn him into a bowl of jelly. Lifting a hand to the side of his face, Adrienne delicately traced the outline of his face from his ear to his stubbly chin as he leaned down and kissed her.

"I love you so much, Adie," he cooed against her lips.

Smiling so happily, she cupped his face with both of her hands and tilted her head slightly to one side. "I love you so much, too, Billie."

His green eyes loitered over ever line, dimple and random freckle on her face as his hands slowly began to work her black slip up over her body until it was off her completely and strewn to the floor below.

"What say you and I try and make little Ava?"

Gushing like a school girl, Adrienne nodded her head, ready to make love to her loving and adoring husband.

* * *

One week later, Billie Joe was sitting at Beulah's kitchen table, coloring with Bailey in a Sesame Street coloring book and a box of 64 crayons.

"Isn't there a box of, like, 90 crayons or something out there?" Billie Joe asked as Beulah set two glasses of strawberry Kool-Aid beside both father and son.

Beulah shrugged. "I think there is."

"See, I never understood that," the green eyed punk rocker muttered, coloring in the lines on the page his son had ripped out of the book for him. A picture of Oscar the Grouch. "Why in the hell does a kid need 90 crayons to begin with? I can't even remember what's in ROYGBIV."

"Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet," Beulah recited, causing Billie Joe to look up at her with a dumbfounded expression.

"Know-it-all."

"Oh, come on. Everyone learns that in middle school."

"And in case someone forgot to realize, someone else was expelled twice in middle school and dropped out of high school."

Beulah laughed and shook her head as she walked back over to the living room where Mike sat as astutely as if he were a social worker supervising Billie Joe's visit with his son.

Sitting down beside the bassist, she curled one leg up under her as she looked at his profile. Mike looked at her and smiled.

"What?"

"You're so serious," she remarked.

"Not all the time."

"No, I know. But you look like it right now," Beulah responded. "Something wrong?"

"Nah, just deep in thought."

"Ah, okay."

As the two of them went back to just sitting beside each other, Billie Joe would look up occasionally to see how his best friend and Beulah were interacting because, frankly, it was a little awkward for him.

Then, the moment he looked back down at the picture he was coloring, a sudden flash of light went off, which caused all three males to look at Beulah, who was holding a really nice camera that was pointed at Mike's profile.

Blinking the light spots out of his eyes, Mike narrowed his gaze in mild surprise and confusion. "What the---"

Beulah simply grinned. "Ta-da. It's what I'm gonna do with my life. Aside from raising Bailey, of course."

Mike was still seeing spots but he began to smirk. "Blind people?" he joked.

"No," she snickered. "Be a photographer. I've always enjoyed taking pictures, capturing what people and things are like at a certain point of time. Like...memories you can see and hold in your hands."

Billie Joe craned his neck to watch the interaction continue between the pair, not entirely sure how he felt about them being close. Even as friends, anymore.

"You know, Tre's first wife, Lisea, is a photographer," Billie Joe piped up.

Beulah turned her head. "Really?"

Mike nodded. "Yep. She uses Ramona as her inspiration. As what she uses in most of her photographs she has on display. You could probably do the same with Bailey."

"Oh, I've already got a bunch of shots with him with regular cameras and some with this baby, but I'm not completely sure how to work everything. The guy at the store explained some basics, but I wanna learn more. That's why I'm thinking of taking a class or two this spring at the university."

Smiling, Mike reached his arm out and rubbed his hand on Beulah's shoulder. "I'm glad you finally figured out what you wanna do."

"So am I. And it's been nice to have this past month and a half to do so, so thanks for helping out, financially."

"It was nothing," Mike insisted, his blue eyes lingered over toward Billie Joe for a moment until the guitarist added his two cents.

"Uh, yeah. It wasn't like we wanted to, it was necessary. I mean, not that we didn't---nevermind," Billie Joe gave up, going back to coloring Oscar a pukey shade of green.

Beulah's face fell a little but she still held a smile out for Mike.

Lifting his hand from her shoulder to the side of her face, he put some of her hair behind her ear and tilted his head. "How come you took my picture?"

She bit her lip and smirked shyly. "You have a handsome profile," she said in a low voice.

Blushing only faintly, Mike shook his head. "Eh...I dunno. I think yours is much better looking. I'm butt ugly."

"Says who?"

"Me, and...uh...God."

"God thinks your ugly? Why's that?"

"'Cause he gave all the pretty to you," he grinned mischievously.

Beulah just stared at him, suddenly wanting to kiss him, but not doing so simply because it was still awkward; mostly because Billie Joe was there. And, obviously, Bailey didn't know that his mommy had been any form of intimate with 'Uncle Mike.'

Instead, she opted for blushing a little and looking down at the camera in her hands, and then lifting it back up to aim at Mike once more.

"Another picture?"

"Mmhmm," she nodded. "Face me this time."

"Nuh-uh. I'll break your camera."

"Well, if and when that happens, you can buy me a knew one," she teased. "You have the money, Mister Money Bags."

Right as the bassist grinned at her comment, she snapped the picture and she pulled the camera away from her face, watching how Mike licked his upper lip and tried to blink away the light spots he was seeing yet again.

"You coulda warned me," he muttered. "I woulda said 'Cheese' or something."

Beulah shook her head. "Nah. It was better this way," she insisted. "I got to capture an honest smile."

"Honest?"

She nodded. "Yeah. It's adorable. And genuine." Then she paused, before adding, "It's you."

"Can I take a picture of you?" he wondered.

Shrugging, Beulah handed over her camera while showing him what to press and all that technical stuff.

"I know, I know. I've used this kind of camera before," he muttered with a laugh. Aiming the camera, he paused, but then pulled it away. "Uh...pose a little for me."

"How?"

"Turn your body away from me...and, uh, lean forward a bit," he directed as she did so. "Good, okay. Now, look at me and smile."

Grinning, Beulah did as he asked, waiting until he snapped the picture, and when he did, she began to know how he felt about the spots in his eyes, because now they were in hers as well.

"See?" he spoke, handing the camera back to her while gesturing to the lens. "I told you that God gave you all the pretty." Leaning forward to her, he smirked. "You didn't break the camera."

"Neither did you," she retorted.

The two of them looked each other in the eye, their faces inches apart.

"I'd really like to kiss you right now."

Looking down at the shape of his lips, she sucked in a subtle breath. "I know you do, but I don't think now's the best time or place," she whispered apologetically.

Mike's face fell a little, pulling back. "S'okay. I understand."

Feeling bad for turning down his kiss, she gave in only slightly. Scooting closer to him, Beulah placed her lips on his cheek and kissed him instead. And when she pulled back, he turned his face to look at her with some glee in his blue eyes.

"I guess that's just as nice."

"Mommy, mommy," came Bailey's happy voice as the four and a half year old boy came bouncing off his chair and over to Beulah and Mike. He presented it picture of Ernie sitting in a bathtub, flashing a grin that showed off one of his missing teeth. "D'you like it?"

"It's lovely, honey," Beulah complimented.

"Yeah, I like how you made the bubbles in his bath orange like his skin," Mike added with a grin. "Very abstract."

Bailey's green eyes flitted over to Mike and he smiled faintly as he handed the picture to the bassist. "It's a present for you."

Mike took the picture slowly and narrowed his eyes. "For me?"

Bailey nodded. "Uh-huh." Then his short attention span changed the subject just a little. "I'm gonna color the other picture of Mister Snuffaluff...Snuffmapa...the fuzzy, brown elephant."

Scampering back over to the table, he returned to doing just as he said, while his father looked on with a faint smile that semi-hid his displeasure over the whole Mike-Beulah thing.

He really had no right to feel jealous, and it wasn't even technically that. It was something else. It was kind of like Beulah was this bowl of ice cream and he'd more or less had his full and he was stuffed. And then Mike comes along to finish off what Billie Joe couldn't eat, even though he didn't want to finish it himself.

If that analogy made any sense.

And, well, it seemed Mike didn't want the ice cream to melt and go to waste.

If anything, he wanted to make it last for a very long time.