A Ballad For Beulah

While Tre was enjoying a frozen Christmas in New York City, accompanied by Claudia and Frankito, and so that he could be with Ramona for the holiday, Billie Joe was also enjoying a frozen Christmas, but in Minnesota with Adrienne's family.

That left Mike in the Bay Area, dealing with the occasional, light rain shower.

And, speaking of showers, he was hopping out of one when he heard the ringtone of his cell phone going off in his bedroom.

Wrapping a towel around his waist in an idle manner, he stepped, barefoot, into his room and over to his dresser where he picked up his phone and looked at the number first, then flipping it open with a smile.

"Hey, beautiful," he commented.

"Oh, that's right," came Beulah's voice over his phone. "You're convinced God gave all the pretty to me."

"Not convinced. Positive," Mike corrected as he hooked a thumb under his towel and adjusted it to keep from sliding off his narrow hips. "So...to what do I owe this unexpected call?"

"You want me to believe you weren't expecting a call from me on Christmas Eve?" she questioned. "What kind of person do you take me for?"

He could hear the mock offense in her tone of voice which made him smile a little more. "The best kind," he answered. "What are you doing for the holiday?"

"Ugh, nothing much," Beulah replied. "Bailey and I are gonna watch How The Grinch Stole Christmas, make some sugar cookies..."

"Wait. The cartoon version of The Grinch or Jim Carrey's?" Mike wondered.

"The cartoon."

"Nice," Mike smirked. "But, sorry. Continue with your holiday plans," he added as he gave his five o'clock shadow a once over.

"Oh, like I said. Nothing much," she responded. "Normally I would be getting together with Nick, but this year he's spending the holiday in Denver with Laura, Jeremy and Laura's family. And they're all fancy because not only do they live in Denver in a big, fancy house, but they also own a ski resort home in Aspen."

"Sounds uppity, but continue."

"Oh, they are uppity. Thank god my sister-in-law is nothing like her family. I was about ready to kill them at the wedding last year."

Mike laughed. "So, if you're not getting together with Nick, then what?"

"Nothing. Bailey and I are gonna make cookies, watch Christmas movies then open presents tomorrow morning. Nothin' special."

There was a hint of glum in her voice that made Mike feel guilty that he had more plans that she did. He wished he could be there with her, or even that she could be with him in the Bay area. Lord knows he knew Tom would love seeing his little sister, and vice versa, but he also knew why she distanced herself from some of her family since having Bailey.

Because anyone he knew or remembered Billie Joe, and saw her son, would put two and two together in an instant. Especially since she gave Bailey his last name with the excuse of it being a one night stand with some guy who's last name was "coincidentally" Armstrong.

"What about you? What are you doing?" she inquired.

"Uh...well, right now, bath towel aside, I'm very wet and naked, looking at my handsome reflection---"

"You vain bastard," she joked.

"Oh yes. So very much, too," Mike laughed. "No, but, I'm just getting ready because I'm gonna be heading over to Anastacia's to pick up Estelle. My little girl and I are gonna see a movie, go out for some Christmas dinner and then head back home to my house where she's gonna open some of the gifts I bought her. The rest she'll open tomorrow when she wakes up."

"She staying overnight?"

"No, only because Anastacia's gonna be taking her to her parent's house for brunch and whatnot tomorrow, and I figured I'd go see my mom and sisters Rena and Kodi since they're in town from Oregon for the holiday. Myla's putting them up in her house which I thought was crazy. I offered since my house has more room, but Myla insisted. I guess the women in my family need to bond or whatever. And normally I'd pay a visit over to either Tre's house or Billie's but the both of them are out of town."

"Oh? Where are they?"

"Tre's in New York, staying in his penthouse that's pretty much across the street from where Lisea lives with Ramona. He has Claudia and Frankito with him. So, they're immersed in the East Coast Christmas. As for Billie," Mike explained. "He's owned a house in Minnesota for a little over three years now, since that's where Adie's from. So, that's where he is."

When Beulah didn't comment about Billie Joe's whereabouts for the holiday, and simply kept silent, Mike was able to understand a little further about what was going on around him.

Billie Joe refused to talk about what was eating him, and Beulah didn't even give him a slight, "Ah" in acknowledgment of Billie Joe being in Minnesota.

Something had clearly happened during Billie Joe's last visit which had been earlier that month, but he wasn't going to push that subject.

Not on Christmas.

"Beulah?"

"Hmm?"

Mike smiled. "What're you wearing?"

"Mike, not now," she muttered, a giggle resonating somewhere in her voice.

"Aw, c'mon," he pestered, his grin getting a tad wider.

"Unh-uh...you're just gonna hafta use your imagination, bubba."

"So, if I said that you were wearing that kinky, black and pink get-up from The Masquerade, I'd be correct?" Biting his lip, he listened at how her breath hitched over the phone.

They never really spoke about that night at the club, but it was clearly on both of their minds since then.

"Ya still there?" Mike questioned.

"Yeah," she replied softly. "I'm still here. But, uh...I think I should get going. And, um, I hope you have a great Christmas."

Mike wasn't sure what to make of her sudden need to get off the phone, considering she was the one who called him, but he wasn't gonna keep her on the line any longer if she wanted to be elsewhere.

"Alright. And I wish you a Merry Christmas, too, Beulah."

"Thanks," she muttered as she hung up her phone.

As she turned to look at Bailey who was kneeling and looking out the window, Beulah smirked at the way his socks barely remained on his feet. Standing up, she set her portable phone down on its base and walked over to her son, hooking her hands under his armpits and pulling him up to his feet while placing a kiss on his cherubic cheek.

"You need a serious haircut, mister," she smirked, ruffling his mass of wavy light brown hair.

Bailey turned his face up at his mother, green eyes full of fear. "No, I hate haircuts. I always look stupid."

"That's only because mommy didn't feel like paying almost ten bucks at Supercuts. But since it's Christmas, tonight we'll go have a professional do it, okay?"

Bailey just stared at her. "What's a professional?"

Smiling, Beulah gestured for him to go get his shoes on. "Well, a professional is, like...someone who went to school to learn how to do their job. Or they practiced really hard on their own and are really good at their job."

"Oh, okay," Bailey shrugged as he sat down on the ground and put his sneakers on but stuck his legs out for her to tie the laces.

"You know, you're gonna have to learn how to do this on your own soon."

"Why?"

"Because after this summer you'll be going to kindergarten."

Bailey's eyes widened and he smiled. "How long is that?"

"How long until you get to go to school?" He nodded and Beulah replied, "Less than nine months."

"I can't wait to go to school."

"I bet," Beulah smiled as she crouched down, tying her son's shoe laces. When she was done, the both of them stood up and she headed for her purse and car keys. "You know what? Mommy doesn't feel like making dinner tonight. So, where do you wanna go to eat?"

Bailey pursed his lips and stared up in thought. "Pizza Hut?"

"Pizza Hut?" she repeated.

"Uh-huh," the nearly five-year-old nodded. "Can we go there?" he asked, making sure it was okay.

"Of course we can. And then maybe we can go to the mall and see if Santa's still there and you can get your picture with him?"

Bailey jumped in excitement, trying to head out the door first. "Will you sit on Santa's lap with me?"

"If you want."

"What are you gonna tell him that you want for Christmas?" her son inquired, curiously.

Beulah shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well, you don't have to know yet. We still gotta eat," he spoke so matter of a factly. "Are we still gonna make cookies tonight?"

The two of them slipped out of the apartment, with Beulah locking it behind her while she nodded. "Yeah, we're gonna have to pick up some stuff at the store, though, because we don't have any chocolate chips for the chocolate chip cookies."

"And do we have carrots for Rudolph and the other reindeers?"

Beulah just smiled as she watched her little boy bounce happily down the hallway, asking a million and ten questions.

This was bound to be a decent holiday.

* * *

Mike was having the most fun ever that he could recall with his daughter on this Christmas Eve.

Just watching Estelle's face light up each time she found a part in the movie they were watching to be hilarious, made his own face light up. Watching as she slopped at the spaghetti on her plate at the restaurant and smile up at him with sauce around her mouth, made him laugh. Then watching as she jumped to her feet after unwrapping a present she thought was awesome and then waddling over to him through the mess of discarded wrapping paper to give him a hug, made his day.

And he just hugged her back, because having his little girl in his arms meant the world to him, and it made him wish he could just freeze frame her at this age forever. Because he knew that she would one day grow up and no longer be his little girl anymore.

She'd be his little lady.

Her long, brown hair that fell straight to the middle of her back swayed back and forth as she moved away from her father and plopped back down on the floor to go over the presents she'd been able to open.

Taking two Barbie dolls out of their cardboard and plastic boxes, she climbed up onto the couch and began to play with them, clearly leaving the mess on the floor for Mike to clean up.

And while doing so, the blue eyed bassist allowed his mind to wander; thinking specifically about Beulah.

He just couldn't help it.

Any excuse to think of her gave him this warm feeling all over these days. And it only made him begin to think that maybe he wasn't just falling in love with her, but that he had already fallen.

And not only had he fallen, but he didn't want to get up.

Looking at the clock, Mike noted that it was a little close to ten and he'd have to get Estelle back to Ana's house soon.

Upon gathering up all the wrapping paper, Mike figured he could get his daughter home by eleven without Anastacia getting all anxious, but when his phone went off, scaring the shit out of him, his train of thought was interrupted.

Stuffing the wrapping paper into the garbage, he snatched the phone off the hook before the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Mike," came Beulah's sob. "Mike, I---"

"Beulah?" he questioned, worry in his voice over why in the hell she sounded distraught and was crying. "What's wrong?"

"Well, after I called earlier, I-I took Bailey to Supercuts and we went shopping and ate at Pizza Hut and then some more shopping but when we came home, the...the..." she rambled in between sobs.

"Shh, it's okay. Take a deep breath."

"The...the door was open. But I locked it. I locked it before we left, and then there was...nothing. Everything's gone. A-and what's left is broken..."

"Beulah," Mike began carefully. "What happened?"

"I was..." she trailed, clearly dazed on her end. "I was robbed. All my furniture, my clothes, the necklace Billie Joe gave me for my birthday a couple years ago...even the Christmas presents," she explained, a sob slipping from her lips once again."

Mike just stood there in his kitchen, the phone to his ear, in awe. "Oh my god...I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Physically, yeah. But I didn't know who else to call. Everyone's out of town and I tried Billie Joe's cell, but I only got voicemail and I don't know the phone number for his house in Minnesota 'cause I know you said he's out of town..."

"Where are you now? Still at the apartment?"

"Yeah," she answered in a small, unsure voice.

"Okay, stay right there. I'm coming to you."

Beulah was silent for a moment, registering what he said. "Wait--what? How?"

Walking into the living room with the cordless phone, he gestured to Estelle. "Get your stuff together. I have to take you home to your mom now." Turning his attention back to the phone, he sighed sympathetically. "I'm gonna drive to Vegas through the night. I'm a bit of a night owl, so it won't bother me."

"Mike, don't---"

"I don't want to hear it, Beulah. I won't allow you and Bailey to remain in that apartment for Christmas with nothing," he insisted. "Just give me about eight hours. I know it usually takes more than that, but I gotta take Estelle home and then I'm gonna speed. I'm not gonna bother with finding a flight out tonight from any of the airports. Holiday travel this last minute will be near impossible and I probably wouldn't find anything that would get me to you soon enough."

Beulah was silent again and Mike gave his daughter a slap on the ass when she hesitated to move from the position she laid on the couch, on her stomach, watching TV. Turning her head up with a pout, he scowled down at her.

"Get moving, Stella."

"Fine," Estelle grumbled, rolling off the couch with her Barbies.

Mike brought his attention once again to the phone and frowned; his heart feeling like lead when he tried to imagine how Beulah must be feeling at that moment.

"Beulah, hon, I need to know if you'll be okay for the next couple of hours until I can get to you and Bailey."

"Yeah, I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise," she replied. "And Mike?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

Mike smiled. "Don't mention it," he spoke softly. "I'll see you soon. Try and get some sleep if you can."

"Alright."

After saying goodbye to each other, Mike hung the phone back up in the kitchen and returned to the living room to see that Estelle had finally gather all of her things together.

"Ready?"

"Yeah, but why are you in such a hurry?"

"I gotta go to Vegas to help a friend."

"But why? It's Christmas."

"Which makes me need to be there even more," Mike responded. "See," he began as they made their way out the front door. "My friend, she's kinda more than a friend to me. I really care about her. And right now, her place has been robbed and she's there alone with her son and they have nothing left for Christmas, so I'm gonna go there to help them out. But I have to leave now if I wanna get there by the morning time."

"Why don't you catch a plane?"

"Too much of a hassle. Just hurry it up, 'kay?" he asked nicely.

"Okay," Estelle harumphed as the two of them slid into the BMW. As she sat in the passenger seat beside her dad with a bag full of presents in her lap, she turned her head and looked up at him with curious brown eyes. "Dad?"

"Yeah?" Mike muttered as he started up the car.

"This friend who's more than a friend? Is she your girlfriend because Brittney isn't anymore?"

Mike looked at his daughter as they pulled out of the driveway. "I hope."

"D'you love her like a girlfriend?"

Hesitating, Mike slowly began to smile. "Yes."

* * *

It was around seven in the morning on Christmas Day when Mike sleepily pulled up to Beulah's apartment complex.

Slowly stumbling from the BMW, he gathered himself with drowsy eyelids and yawned while stretching his arms up toward the sky. After cracking his neck, he locked the car and headed inside.

It was about two minutes before he reached the apartment; not even having to knock because the doorknob didn't seem to exist anymore.

Frowning, Mike pushed the door open and stepped inside, taking in the sight of the living room which looked like a tornado had blown through it.

Ninety percent of the furniture was missing and Beulah was right in that whatever hadn't been stolen, was broken.

"Beulah?" he called out, a part of him fearing the worst.

Stepping further into the apartment, taking note of the fake Christmas tree that had been torn to utter bits, in the corner; the ornaments shattered and lying on the ground.

Just as Mike was going to call out Beulah's name again, he noticed her stepping out of Bailey's room with a sleepy stare.

Their blue eyes locked and it seemed as if someone turned the waterworks on because the tears began to fall down her cheeks almost immediately. Running up to him, she was more than welcomed into his arms as she pressed her face into his chest and cried.

His fingers tangling with the bottom strands of her hair, he held her close, turning his face to kiss her temple. "I'm so sorry this happened to you," he whispered.

"So am I," she muttered through her tears, lifting her face to look at him.

Cupping her face in his hands, Mike smiled softly at her. "Bailey sleeping?" She nodded. "He okay?"

"Well, he's a little upset that all his stuff is gone and he thinks the robbers stole Christmas, so, I dunno..."

Mike's smile faded. "Go get Bailey. I called ahead and reserved a presidential suite at the Bellagio. And we're gonna tell Bailey that the robbers didn't steal Christmas like the Grinch," Mike explained. "We're gonna tell him that because of the robbers, I called Santa and asked if he could postpone Christmas a day just for him."

Beulah grinned. "Thank you." She leaned up and kissed him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she muttered against his lips.

"You're welcome, so..." he trailed, reveling in the softness eagerness of her kiss. "So very welcome." Pulling her out of his arms, Mike smirked, but kissed her once more while giving her a gently slap on the ass. "Now go get Bailey."

Biting her bottom lip to keep from smiling insanely, Beulah turned on her heels and headed back into Bailey's room, only to reappear with the soon to be five-year-old who was just as sleepy as the two adults.

But his eyes widened.

"Uncle Mike!"

"Hey, buddy," Mike smiled, bending at the knees and scooping Bailey up into his arms. "Guess what?"

"What?" Bailey inquired as he rested his small hands on Mike's shoulders.

"I talked to Santa last night while he was in his sleigh, on his sleigh phone."

"You did?"

Mike nodded. "Yup. And I asked him if he could come by tonight instead to leave you all your presents because you can't really stay here and enjoy it."

"I know," Bailey pouted. "The robbers stole Christmas."

"No, they didn't," Mike assured. "They stole objects. Like furniture and clothes."

"And my toys."

"And your toys," Mike repeated. "But no one can steal Christmas. And now you, your mom and me are gonna go to a hotel and get some good sleep and spend the day together."

Bailey simply looked at Mike, then turned his head to look at his mom, and back again. "Uncle Mike?"

"Yeah?"

Shyly, Bailey leaned forward and whispered in Mike's ear. "Are you gonna be my daddy now?"

Mike pulled his head back and narrowed his eyes in mild confusion. "What? Why would you---" He looked at Beulah and frowned. "No, Bailey. I'm not gonna be your dad now. You have a daddy."

"Not anymore," Bailey insisted, shaking his head. "When he was here, he told mommy he didn't love her and he made her cry so I told him he wasn't my daddy no more."

So that was why Billie Joe was in a funk.

Mike looked to Beulah and, while keeping a firm hold of Bailey with one arm under the kid's butt, he reached his other arm out to her and cupped his hand behind her neck and leaned over to kiss her.

"I'm not your daddy, Bailey, but I love your mommy."

Out the corner of his eye, Mike could see the little boy smile and giggle a little as he watched his mom get kissed by his 'Uncle Mike.'

Beulah simply stared up at Mike with uncertainty and wonder in her eyes as she bit her lip and smiled. "We should, uh..." she trailed, at a loss for words.

"Yeah," Mike nodded. "Let's head to the hotel."

"Like a family!" Bailey squealed obnoxiously, shifting in Mike's grasp.

Smirking, Mike let his hand trail down from Beulah's neck to the small of her back. "Something like that..."