A Ballad For Beulah

Beulah couldn't believe that she was six months pregnant.

Sitting poolside at Tre's house in her simple black bathing suit made her feel like a beached whale because, even though she wasn't exactly petite and even though Mike was kinda tall and thin, she felt as if this baby that was growing inside of her was going to be about ten pounds at birth, if it wasn't at that weight already.

Mike was in the pool with Bailey, teaching him how to swim without the plastic floaties on his arms, while Estelle tried tackling her father from behind. Billie Joe was off on the other side of the shallow end of the in-ground pool, flipping Joey over his head and then doing the same to Jakob while Beulah did her best to not focus on the father of her son and instead on Mike.

Kicking her feet in the water, she turned her head to the side and saw Tre at the grill, holding a pair of cooking tongs in his right hand as he turned all the hot dogs over. But, he must have sensed Beulah looking over in his direction because he met her gaze and then wiggled his eyebrows.

Grabbing the plumpest hot dog off of the grill he brought it down to in front of his crotch and shook it a little.

"How d'you like my wiener?" he asked her. "Well done or burnt to a crisp?"

"Oh, well done, please," she laughed in response.

"My kinda gal," Tre cooed as he set the hot dog that the tongs held onto an opened hot dog bun. "Come an' get it."

Beulah shook her head. "Someone's gonna hafta help me up first."

Stepping away from his grilling duties for just a moment, the semi-stocky drummer offered her a hand and when she took his graciously, he helped pull her up to her feet.

"Thank you, Grill Master."

Tre beamed. "Finally I get the respect I deserve." He patted her shoulder all friendly-like and the two of them walked up to the grill where he handed off the hot dog he'd set aside for her. "The condiments are on the table right there along with some plates."

Beulah just stood there.

"What?" Tre asked.

"I was waiting for you to make a joke about the word 'condiments,'" she replied with a smirk.

"Oh...okay." He pursed his lips in thought, then just shrugged. "It's either the sun or all the drugs I'm on right now, but I can't think of a joke at the moment."

Beulah simply threw him a playful smile as she wandered over to the table with the ketchup, mustard, chopped onions, relish and even horse radish which made her scrunch up her nose in disgust.

"Ew," she muttered, placing her hot dog and bun on a Styrofoam plate then squirting a thin line of ketchup down the length of the hot dog. Following the red glop with a bunch of chopped onions, Beulah turned to look for a can of Pepsi or some other soft drink in a can in the cooler beside the table when she practically ran into an equally huge Adrienne. "Whoa, sorry."

"It's okay," the older woman insisted.

Beulah offered a smile as she gestured to Adrienne. "How is it you manage to not look like a beached whale? And you're a month more pregnant than I am. Is it the sarong you're wearing?"

Adrienne shrugged. "I suppose." Without saying anything further, she stepped over to Tre and asked for a hot dog.

Frowning slightly, Beulah turned and went to find a seat at the picnic table that had been set up with a red and white, checkered tablecloth. She began to eat the hot dog but only really picked at it because she hated the thought of having to gain any more weight, even though she knew it was inevitable.

"How you feeling?" came a voice.

Beulah looked up and to the side, lifting her hand to shade her eyes as she saw Tre standing there.

"Aren't you manning the helm?"

"What--oh. The hot dogs? Nah, I passed that off to my dad," Tre replied.

Sure enough, there was the Santa Clause look alike, standing at the grill with the tongs in his hand while wearing a pair of bright yellow swim trunks and a Hawaiian shirt.

"So, again I ask, how you feeling?" he asked, sitting down beside her with a hot dog of his own.

Beulah shrugged. "Eh, I'm alright."

"Just alright? Not stupendiferous?"

"What?"

"Made-up word. Pay me no mind," he shook it off while taking a bite into his hot dog. Leaning his head sideways onto Beulah's shoulder, catching her by surprise somewhat, he looked up at her with his wide blue eyes sparkling. "You don't seem just alright, y'know."

"I am," she insisted. "What do you expect from a pregnant woman?"

"A smile that's actually honest and not brave."

Lifting his head up he met her confused gaze. And he just stared at her, watching her reaction, because he knew that the longer he said nothing the sooner it would dawn on her what he meant.

"I'm not putting on a brave face, Tre. I've got nothing to make me feel I have to..."

"Well, now, that's just a big pile of the stankiest dookie I ever did see," he commented. "I mean," he added, lowering his voice. "I may not know you that well, but I know enough to tell from one look that you're not sure why you're here."

"At the party?"

"No," he said as if he were stating the obvious -- which, he kinda was. "Here in California. With Mike. Beulah...the guy's head over heels for you. And Bailey. He loves him like his own if you haven't noticed."

"I have."

Tre continued on, wiping a smudge of ketchup from the corner of his mouth. "See, the thing is about Mike...he doesn't love easily, so when he gives himself wholeheartedly and so easily like he's done with you, you gotta respect that."

Beulah's lips parted as she just stared at Tre. "I do," she insisted.

"I know you do, I'm just stating a fact."

Frowning, Beulah pushed her plate away from her and swung her legs over the edge of the bench. "Thanks, but I'd rather you not shove it in my face." Standing up, barely, Beulah walked away and headed back toward the pool.

Swooping Bailey up in his arms like the five year old was Superman, Mike glanced upward, squinting at Beulah with a smile on his face. "How was your hot dog?" But then he noticed her face was kind of sour as he turned Bailey around so that he was no longer Superman-like. "Everything okay?"

"I think the sun's getting to me."

"Wanna go home?"

Beulah hesitated to respond, but then nodded. "Yeah, but you could just drop me off at home and come back if you want. I just can't stay any longer, if you don't mind," she spoke as Mike waded over to the side of the pool with Bailey and pulled the boy out of the water.

"No, I don't mind," he assured as Bailey began to whine.

"I don't wanna get out of the pool."

"Well, we have to because we gotta take your mommy home. She's not feeling well."

"But I wanna stay."

Beulah was about to say something as Bailey started to get louder with his complaints and Mike climbed up out of the water.

"Bailey..." Mike began.

"Hey, Mike," came Billie Joe's voice.

Mike and Beulah both turned to see the shorter punk rocker swimming over to the edge of the pool, giving his friend a nod of the head.

"What?" Mike questioned.

"If you want, Bailey can stay here with me. I can bring him home later," he offered, looking between the pair, and for a moment, an awkward feeling passed from Billie Joe to Beulah and back again.

Mike glanced at Beulah and shrugged. "That okay with you, babe?"

Slowly, she nodded. "Yeah, fine. It's okay." And she knew it was, just by the grin spreading across Bailey's face alone.

"Yay!" he squealed, jumping into the pool, barely giving his father reaction time. But the guitarist was quick anyway, and caught Bailey before he went under.

"Bailey! Careful," Beulah scolded.

"Sorry, mommy."

She simply shook her head and placed her hand to her temple. "Thanks, Billie." He just nodded. Turning to look at Mike, she felt a tingle beneath her skin when he touched his hand to her arm.

"Let me go grab my stuff and we'll get going, okay?" Mike spoke softly.

Beulah nodded. "Okay."

As Mike headed off toward the back entrance to the house, Beulah found where she left her sandals, glancing once or twice at Billie Joe who was now busy flopping around in the water with all three of his sons and it made her heart tighten. Then, when she turned her head to the left, she caught Adrienne looking at Billie Joe and the boys as well, with an unreadable expression on her face.

And when Adrienne met Beulah's gaze, there was simply nothing there.

No happy friendship twinkle in her eye, no smile. No nothing.

And Beulah suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

* * *

"How come I get this feeling the sun wasn't the reason for wanting to leave?" Mike asked as soon as they arrived home.

Beulah, who'd wrapped a towel around her waist prior to leaving Tre's, walked ahead of him and shrugged.

"I don't feel like talking about it, okay?"

"Well, I'm just saying because, I mean...you live in Vegas for the last ten years and that's pretty much a desert with an emphasis on constant sun. Not to mention you lived in Texas and then here before that..."

"Listen, I know where I fucking lived, alright?" she snipped as Mike stopped dead in his tracks.

"Beulah, what's wrong? You said you'd tell me if there was."

"And I will...when there is..."

"There is right now, damnit. It's so goddamn obvious."

"And I said I don't want to talk about it," she shot back, turning to face him. She pursed her lips slightly, ran a hand through her hair and then folded her arms. She just looked across the hallway at Mike and swallowed back a lump in her throat.

"Okay," he replied meekly. "We won't talk about it right now. But is there anything we can do that won't result in you biting my head off?"

"I'm six months pregnant with your child, Mike. Biting your head off should be expected," she tried joking, even though it came out flatly.

Casually walking up to her, Mike boldly snaked one arm around her waist and pulled her close to him so that her pregnant belly pressed gently against his lean one. He stared down at her and studied how she avoided his eyes, but with his other hand, he lifted her chin and forced her to look at him, and how he smiled almost sadly at her.

"So you wanna do someone that doesn't involve me biting your head off, huh?" Beulah questioned, with a faint sigh.

"Well...I'm sure some biting is okay...so long as the head isn't above my shoulders."

Beulah gave him a mock surprised look as she smacked his arm playfully. "I'm not sure you can handle me."

"Oh, trust me. I can handle anything," Mike assured. Leaning in, he kissed her sweetly and then bent at the knees to pick her up in his arms and carry her upstairs.

"Careful. Don't drop me..."

"If I do, you can bite off my head..."

She couldn't help it.

Beulah laughed.