A Ballad For Beulah

Billie Joe never returned home that night.

Nor did he come home the night after, or the night after that. It was almost as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth, without a trace. Techs at the recording studio said they remembered him leaving in his Ford Fairlane, wearing a baseball cap and dark sunglasses that covered his eyes, even though it was too dark for them.

They said he'd thrown his guitar case into the backseat of his car and hopped into the front, driving off without a word.

And now a week later, it was his twelfth wedding anniversary and Adrienne was really starting to worry.

She'd called the guys, but was left with dead ends.

Tre had said he honestly had no idea where Billie Joe had gone, as did Mike, although the bassist also added that he didn't really care; explaining to some extent that the two of them had had a big fight and hadn't spoken since.

Adrienne tried her husband's cell phone, the number to their house in Los Angeles, the number to the house in Minnesota...and still she couldn't reach her husband.

She was beginning to think that something terrible, like death, had happened to him.

Then, the morning of the anniversary, the phone rang.

Adrienne waddled as fast as she could through the living room to pick up the cordless phone.

"Hello?" she greeted eagerly.

There was silence on he other end, then she heard the hitch of breath intake which was followed by, "Hey, babe."

"Oh my God, Billie. Where the hell have you been?" she demanded with a mix of anger and relief in her voice.

"Around."

"Billie Joe Armstrong, so help me God, you have made me a fucking nervous wreck."

"I'm sorry. I've just...I haven't been feeling alright lately and I needed to get away and think some things through," he tried to explain as vaguely as possible.

"Where are you?" she asked almost helplessly. "The boys have been asking me where there daddy's been and I didn't know what to tell them..."

"I'm in Vegas."

"What're you doing in Vegas?"

"Sorting through some stuff. In my head. It's just so chaotic in my head and I was gonna go somewhere quiet, but the silence would've been deafening. I needed more noise to play off my mind..." Billie Joe spoke cautiously. "And I'm sorry I'm not there for our anniversary, so that's why I want you to come to me."

"Come to you? Why should I come to you?"

Sitting in his hotel room, Billie Joe hunched forward on his king-sized bed and ran a hand along his face.

He looked like shit. Granted most of his bruises from Mike's beatdown had faded some, but he looked dead.

He had dark circles around his eyes that weren't from eyeliner, his dark hair was in disarray, he had week-long stubble, forming the beginnings of a beard and mustache and he reeked of beer and cigarettes.

"'Cause I wanna give you some away time before our baby gets here. And I wanna be with you, just the two of us...away from it all."

"Vegas isn't that far away. And I can't fly on a plane to even get to you, Billie. I'm in my third trimester."

"Which is why I have a limo coming to pick you up in about a half hour. And don't bother packing anything. I'll buy you new things," he said before taking a long drag from the cigarette dangling carelessly from between two of his fingers.

"I don't want new things. I just want you to come home."

"I will," Billie Joe assured. "But I need you to come here first." Then he added, "Please."

Adrienne walked over to the living room's bay window and stared out toward the end of the driveway while she heard her sons playing somewhere upstairs.

"What about the boys?"

"They'll be with you in the limo, but the limo driver will drop them off at my sister Holly's house. Just have them pack a bag to be gone for a couple of days."

"I dunno, Billie..."

"Please, Adie..." he pleaded. "I promise I'm gonna make everything better."

Adrienne fell silent as she considered all of this. Her brown eyes left the window and she turned her head to scan the interior of the living room as she let out a hefty sigh.

"Fine, okay," she caved. "Alright, I'll come to you."

Billie Joe sported the first smile he'd worn in over a week. "Thanks, babe," he whispered. "I'll see you tonight."

* * *

While Adrienne was crossing the state line into Nevada, things in the Pritchard household were a little tense.

In the last week, Mike and Beulah didn't say much to each other. Sure, they still slept in the same bed together, but they hadn't slept together. Not since the night Beulah admitted to her last fling with Billie Joe.

The night before Mike beat the shit out of his best friend.

It was a Sunday afternoon, almost early evening, and Beulah was keeping herself occupied in the kitchen, making her famous spaghetti and garlic bread. Mike, on the other hand, threw himself into giving Bailey some lessons on playing the guitar, as well as the bass down in his basement's tiny studio.

But even though the 'menfolk' were in the basement, it didn't mean Beulah was upstairs by herself because Mike had Estelle staying with him for a couple of days.

In fact, Beulah was showing the girl, who was almost like a daughter to her, how to make spaghetti.

"Can we make dessert, too?" Estelle asked.

Beulah smiled and looked down at the nine-year-old girl. "Sure. What d'you wanna make?"

Estelle shrugged. "Cake?"

Laughing, the pregnant woman, turned her gaze back to stirring the ground beef in with the sauce. "You want to make cake? Why cake?"

"Everybody likes cake, and we don't have to make a big one. Just enough for the four of us. And maybe some left over as a snack later."

Estelle gave Beulah a wide-eyed, tightlipped grin that made the daughter look just like her father. Like a Mini Mike, except for being biracial and, well, a girl.

Beulah set her wooden spoon down and then ran her fingers through Estelle's long, dark hair as her expression went from happy to sad.

"What's the matter, Beulah?"

Beulah's chin quivered as she attempted to hold everything in and be strong so the young girl didn't have to see her falter. But it was too hard to keep her emotions locked in all the time, given how she'd been living in a daze this past week, walking on egg shells with Mike.

As tears began to roll down her face, she looked away but not in time to muffle a sob that escaped her lips.

Estelle became a little nervous but remained a strong, like her daddy. Lifting a hand, she patted Beulah's arm.

"It's okay," she assured, still not knowing what was up. "What's wrong?"

Beulah just shook her head. "N-nothing. Just...I-I'm fine. Just hormones," she lied.

Furrowing her brow, Estelle pulled her arm back and frowned. "Do you want me to get my da--"

"Ahhhh!" Beulah cried out suddenly, grasping at her stomach and hunching forward slightly while also trying to grab something for balance. But she accidentally touched the hot stovetop instead of the counter behind it and yelped in pain.

And at the same time she was trying to deal with the pain in her stomach.

Estelle went wide-eyed again and tired her best to help Beulah away from the stove.

"Daddy!" she shouted. "Daddy!"

Like a herd of elephants trampling through the African terrain, the sound of Mike clamoring up the basement stairs echoed right into the kitchen when he appeared in the doorway with Bailey in tow.

"What's wrong?" he asked, staring between his daughter and Beulah.

"I dunno," Estelle replied, almost crying herself. "She just started crying and then she grabbed her stomach in pain. A-and she touched the stove on accident and I think she burned her hand."

Grabbing Beulah from behind and letting her lean back against his chest, Mike wrapped his arms under her arms and around her chest, looking at her profile.

"You okay?" he questioned nervously.

Beulah shook her head as her legs practically gave out from underneath her as another jolt of pain originated from the small of her back, causing her to whimper.

"Oh shit," Mike muttered. "Stella, go find my car keys for me and take Bailey out to the car. Both of you in the backseat, understand?"

"Okay," his daughter nodded, taking off for where Mike usually kept his keys.

"Where are we going?" Bailey asked with that sultry little voice of his. His voice that was a lot like Beulah's in some respects. "What's the matter with mommy?"

Mike turned to look at the little boy for a moment. "Bailey, just go with Estelle. Your mommy's gonna be fine. She just has a tummy ache. Go on...go."

"C'mon, Bailey," Estelle said, placing her dad's keys on the kitchen island and taking the little boy by the hand as they both headed for the side entrance that lead into the garage.

Mike just pressed his cheek against Beulah's and she whimpered some more in his arms. "Shh...I'm gonna take you to the hospital, okay? You're gonna be fine, you're gonna be fine," he repeated, assuringly, pressing his lips to her cheek.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Beulah was being wheeled into an examining room and helped onto a bed while Mike waited as patiently as possible with the kids in the waiting room. Every time a nurse or some doctorly figure walked toward the nurses' desk, he walked up to them, asking if they knew what was wrong. But none were the ones attending to Beulah so they weren't aware of what was going on.

Finally, a nurse approached Mike on her own and asked if he'd come back to the examining room with her, and that the kids would be okay in the waiting room.

They passed through double, swinging doors until they turned right and stepped through Exam Room 2, where Beulah was laying back on an examining table with a doctor and another nurse standing beside her, operating a sonogram machine.

Mike went right up to Beulah and took her hand in his, looking at the doctor.

"Mr. Pritchard?" the doctor questioned as Mike nodded. "I'm Dr. Hanley, this is Nurse Pittman, and Nurse Keiffer is the one who brought you in here."

Mike nodded briefly to both nurses then looked down at Beulah who was closing her eyes. "Is she okay? What happened?"

"Well, sir, to put it in laymen's terms...false labor," Dr. Hanley spoke. "This is actually not all that rare. It usually happens when a pregnant woman, such as Beulah, is dealing with stress or anxiety. It puts a strain on the womb which causes contractions that make the woman feel as if she's going into labor. Fortunately, we subdued the contractions with medication and the sonogram shows that the baby is just fine."

Mike let out a sigh of relief, as he leaned forward to kiss Beulah's forehead, causing her eyes to flutter back open.

"Like I said. False labor," Dr. Hanley reiterated. "And, my work here is pretty much done, so I'll leave you two alone. And I took the liberty of making a copy of the sonogram for you to keep."

As the doctor walked around the bed, he offered his hand which Mike readily took.

"Thank you," Mike muttered.

"Just doing my job," smiled Dr. Hanley as he took his hand back and slipped from the room with both nurses following after.

As soon as they were alone, Mike pulled a stool over and sat down, taking Beulah's hand back in his and then covering the top of hers with his other one. Hunching forward a little, he kissed her fingertips and stared at her. Turning her face to him, Beulah offered a light smile.

"Sorry if I scared you," she apologized shyly.

"Don't be sorry," he replied, giving a small shake of his head. "I mean, yeah...I got scared. For you...and the baby. But you're strong, and the baby is half mine. I had no doubt you'd both be fine."

"Let me guess," she muttered softly. "You were pacing back and forth in the waiting room like an expecting father."

Mike smiled. "Well, I kinda am."

"Yeah..."

"Listen, Beulah..." Mike began to trail off as he removed his top hand and brushed her hair off her forehead and kept it there. "I'm sorry for how things have been this past week--"

"No, it's okay," she cut him off. "I expected it to be hard to be around each other after...after what happened. I mean, it's probably still gonna be hard, but I hate how you can't look me in the eye. 'Cause I know all you see now is a whore. A whore who slept with your best friend and broke your heart. And I really don't how you're still letting me stay after what I did..."

"Beulah, I would never kick you to the curb, if that's what you're thinking," he assured. "You're not the only one here who's ever cheated."

"You--"

Mike nodded. "Yeah," he answered sheepishly. "Though, not on you. When I was married to Ana."

"You never told me about that."

"It was when we were separating. I wasn't very happy and there was this girl I met one night in Sacramento. I ended up spending the weekend with her in my hotel room," Mike admitted. "Her name was Kristy. She made me laugh when I felt like shit and she gave me comfort when I felt confused in how I was feeling."

Beulah bit her bottom lip and just listened.

Mike smirked a little, then gave her a serious glance. "That's why I didn't blow up at you like anyone else would've. That's why I can't ever break up with you. For one, I love you too damn much and I'm pretty damn sure my life would be pointless without you in it. Two, you're carrying my son or daughter and there's no way I'd leave you homeless. And, three...I'm no better. I'm guilty of the same thing. So, if I were to condemn you of cheating, I'd be a hypocrite. Granted, it doesn't mean I wasn't still hurt.'

Beulah looked down at their hands and let out a small breath. "Did Ana ever find out?"

Mike nodded. "Long after we divorced. It was when I was going through my divorce from Sarah, I told Ana everything about that weekend with Kristy. And thankfully, five years had passed and we'd already moved on with our separate lives, so it was more like telling a friend about a past sexcapade," Mike commented lightly. "She didn't really care anymore about whatever had happened."

A moment of silence fell over Mike and Beulah as they locked eyes.

Slowly, Mike stood up and leaned forward to kiss her on the lips just as she pulled her hands up to cup his face and hold him there.

"I love you, Mike," she whispered against his mouth.

He nuzzled his nose up against hers and snaked his arms around her back, pulling her into a deep embrace.

"I love you, too," he repeated. Then he opened his eyes and met her gaze as she tilted her head a little to the right. "Let's get you home."