A Ballad For Beulah

When Mike came home, he felt a little sheepish because he was late. But he'd decided last minute to make a few stops elsewhere to pick up a few extra things for Beulah.

Namely a bouquet of yellow tulips, which she loved.

And he'd gotten them just in time; right before the florist closed. Of course they made a big stink about it, but he was willing to pay whatever.

So, now, he had ice cream, cans of tuna -- 'cause that's how weird Beulah's cravings were -- and a bouquet of tulips.

He pulled into the driveway and into the garage, walking into the house from the side entrance that was in the garage; his arms full while also holding his keys in his mouth.

"Beulah?" he called out, semi-muffled as he spit his keys onto the kitchen counter when he entered the kitchen. "Or should I say, 'Honey, I'm home?'" he snickered as he set the bags down.

He got no reply as he put the ice cream in the freezer and then placed the tuna in the appropriate cupboard, so he chucked it up to her being upstairs somewhere.

That was until he heard a stifled sob.

His ears instantly perking at the sound, Mike grabbed the bouquet of tulips and walked toward the living room.

The light was off, so he flicked the wall switch on as his eyes scanned the room until he saw Beulah curled up on the couch, laying on her side and covering her face with her right hand.

A sharp jolt of worry ripped through Mike's heart as his brow furrowed and he approached her, getting down on bended knee to be beside her.

"Baby?" he spoke, lifting a hand to her arm. "What's wrong?"

Her soft crying didn't cease enough to allow her to respond, yet it also seemed like she didn't really want to talk. She buried her face more into the cushion of the couch and began to cry harder, which got Mike nervous.

"Beulah, baby...god, please tell me what's wrong," he pleaded, trying to push some of her hair out of her face.

"Please, don't...don't call m-me...th-that," she replied through hiccuping sobs.

"Call you what?"

"B-baby..."

"Okay, I won't," Mike assured, doing his best to move her hand off of her face so that he could see her. "C'mere. Tell me what happened." Placing the tulips on the coffee table, he used both hands to help prop her up so that she was sitting. Albeit, hunched over slightly. He got to his feet and sat down beside her right as she immediately turned into his chest and cried into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I-I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I didn't mean to...I didn't know how I felt and I just...oh, God...I'm sorry..."

Mike didn't like feeling helpless. Not knowing how to respond to something when he had no clue as to what was going on. Or why his lady love sounded so guilty, forlorn and heartbroken.

It scared him a little.

"Honey, I need you to tell me what happened," he said gently, pressing his lips to her temple as she lifted her head away from his shoulder but kept her eyes downcast.

"I did a bad thing," she whispered. "I...I...Billie brought Bailey home...a-and he was already asleep," she began. "So we put him to bed upstairs and then went to the kitchen..."

"Okay..."

Beulah just started shaking her head. "I can't. I don't want to talk about it..."

"Sweetie, you may not want to, but you sure as hell look like you need to." He cupped her face with both hands to make her look at him, even though she kept trying to avert her teary eyes. "You can tell me anything. I promise."

When she finally locked eyes with him she swallowed back a big lump in her throat. Beulah could just feel all the blood drain from her face from fear of how Mike would react.

"I...he..." she lamely tried to begin, looking down once again. "Billie and I...we...we had..."

As she trailed off, Mike's eyes began to widened and it was his turn for the blood to drain from his face. Beulah didn't even have to finish what she was trying to say. Mike just knew.

And he felt like his heart was being ripped to shreds.

She started to sob again before he could say anything, turning away from him and trying to curl up into a ball again, but Mike grabbed her shoulders and kept her stationary.

"Why?" Was all he asked, his chin quivering from tears he was trying to hold back. "Why would you...how...?"

She just shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I just couldn't...I couldn't say no. He was...he was being so nice and then we were kissing and...and...and he said this was the last time. It was closure."

Mike scowled through the tears running down his cheeks now. "And that made it alright?"

"No," she whispered. "I was so confused...I didn't know what I wanted anymore and I'm so scared of..."

"Of what?" he demanded, almost growling.

"I dunno," she answered.

"That's...that's such a fucking cop out and you know it..."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, after releasing a heartwrenching sob, that even let Mike know she was clearly just as devastated at what had happened as he was.

"What happened afterward?" he questioned. "How long did it last and when did he leave?"

"Not long. And...about five minutes before you got home."

"So, I could've caught you in the act, and you still would've been at it? Did you somehow psychically know I was gonna get you flowers and that I'd take longer? Is that why this had to happen?"

"It just did...I mean, I didn't want it to happen, but I didn't stop it...and I'm so sorry..."

Her whole body wracked with her sobs that, despite being furious at his girlfriend for letting Billie Joe have her once again, he was actually worried for her mental state in all this. This apparent 'last time' was definitely the boiling point. It was so damn obvious to Mike that Beulah was completely distraught over what she'd done and, frankly, it seemed like she was punishing herself mentally as it was.

"I...I thought I was still in love with him," she offered weakly, which made Mike's heart ache.

"Love?" he scoffed slightly. "Beulah, what you feel or felt for Billie is not love. It's lust," he spoke a little more gently. "It's a school girl crush you can't get rid of and you've been letting it rule your goddamn heart for sixteen years." Mike slumped away from her and sighed, leaning forward to place his face in his hands while wiping away the remainder of his tears. "I've love you unconditionally since before I really knew it. Maybe for a couple years now but I was still so caught up in my world that I didn't look deep enough into yours."

Beulah didn't respond; she just sat there on the verge of a breakdown. She feared the worst. That he was gonna tell her to pack her things and go get Bailey. Her mind even began thinking of what she would do. Tom would let her and her son stay with his family until she could find her own place...

But then, Mike turned his face to the side and looked at her, just as she looked at him with sheepish eyes.

"He's like a disease," she whispered, clearly pained. "A beautiful disease. A disaster. H-he...infected me, and then left me ravaged. I keep trying rebuild, but every time I think I'm okay, there he is again," she described just as a hiccup claimed her voice.

"Does that make me FEMA?" Mike offered, trying to make some light of the situation as he lifted one of his hands to her shoulder.

Beulah looked down and then back up at him again as his hand moved to the back of her neck and his fingers got tangled, on purpose, with her hair.

"FEMA fucked shit up with Hurricane Katrina," she muttered, shaking her head. "You're just...the only one who ever made life disease free for me. And just when things were going good I had to let myself fuck it all up," she cried. "I'm starting to think I don't deserve anyone, let alone you."

Instead of saying anything, Mike just pulled her to him and kissed her temple, then kissed her by her ear.

"I won't stop loving you, if that's what you're worried about," he muttered against the skin of her cheek. "And you're not going anywhere." Pulling back, he turned her head to face him and studied her eyes. "We all fuck up sometimes. To err is human, and...to forgive is divine."

Beulah looked Mike right in the eye. "You forgive me?" she asked in disbelief.

"Well, I'm still going to be mad about this for a while, but considering we're not legally bound together, I can't really dictate anything, now can I? But...yes, I forgive you. But I can't forgive and forget."

Shaking her head in understanding, Beulah found her hand being linked with Mike's on her lap. "I'm not asking you to," she mumbled, wiping some tears away with her free hand. "But where does this leave us?" she inquired nervously.

"Reconstruction. Together we stand, divided we fall," Mike recited. "Just like the Civil War if you think about it. Because I'm a stronger and happier man with you in my life. And even though you knocked down some things we built, it doesn't mean we can't fix them. Make them better, even."

"How can you be so strong right now, after what I told you?"

"Because I know you more than you think. I know Billie Joe is your kryptonite. After so many years of letting him get under your skin, it's hard to let something like that leave. And, sure, you share a bond because of Bailey, but that also doesn't mean the bond should go further. What's done is done. And I can understand where you were coming from, but I have no fucking clue what the hell Billie was thinking. He's got a child on the way in two months and here he was, in my house, sleeping with my pregnant wi--girlfriend." Mike shook his head. "I'm gonna stop talking now so I don't get myself to angry and go looking for Billie and give him a piece of my mind."

"Are you ever--"

"Oh, yeah, he'll still hear it from me, but not tonight. I think we've both just been hit with a ton of bricks and, honestly, I'm exhausted."

"Yeah..."

Turning to face her a little better, Mike leaned in and kissed her, proving he still loved her just as much, no matter what. His ears perked a little at the sound of her soft sigh escaping her lips and, if anything, that made him feel a little better.

That was, until she muttered the following.

"I just feel so used. After there was...just nothing. It was one last Wham-Bam-Thank You Ma'am and I don't think I've ever felt so hollow in my life," she began to cry again. "Like I'd been raped, even though I wasn't."

Mike's face just fell and his teeth clenched.

* * *

As soon as Billie Joe had returned home, he bypassed Adrienne who was sitting in the living room, watching some Home & Garden show on TLC to head upstairs and take a shower.

He stripped every last article of clothing from his body and stepped into the shower after turning it on.

The water was warm, but not warm enough. He wanted it to scald him. To burn at his flesh.

Because all he could do was think about what he'd just done. What he'd initiated after everything that had gone on, right underneath his wife's nose.

And while he tried focusing on just cleaning himself off, his mind kept loitering back to the recent memory of sitting on Mike's couch with a six-month-pregnant Beulah on top of him. And how he buried himself deep into her, reeling in the sensation that came with a lovely woman riding him.

Billie Joe tried to push the memory from his mind once again by turning off the cold water and so that it was just scalding hot water pelting down on his skin and burning him.

And the mix of pain from the hot water and his own guilt was eating at him so much that he just turned off the water all together and slid down the shower wall to the floor where he gathered his legs in his arms, bring his knees to his chest and tipping his head back.

And he cried.