‹ Prequel: A Ballad For Beulah
Status: Completed
The Ballad of Michael & Beulah
Lonely
A long curl of grayish white smoke billowed past Billie Joe's puffy lips as he nursed a bottle of beer on the tabletop before him. Sitting by a window in Rudy's Can't Fail Cafe on an early Wednesday morning, there was a sense of languor to him as his infamous green eyes seemingly welded to the figure of Beulah standing at the cash register to take care of a customer's bill.
When the nourished patron left the dining establishment with a smile and a wave goodbye, Beulah made sure the register was closed as she turned around to do something behind the counter that the Green Day frontman couldn't see. Even craning his neck didn't help figure out what it was she was doing. That was until she walked out from behind the counter with two cups full of something other than liquid.
"What is it?" Billie Joe inquired, raising one eyebrow as he peered toward the matching coffee cups, then up at her, and back.
Setting the cups down before him, Beulah smirked. "Pretzels and iced tea powder."
This time raising his eyebrow at the blonde woman who stood diagonal to him as he sat halfway off his chair, he looked mildly disgusted; yet curious. "Ew?" he replied with an uncertain tone.
"I know it's weird, but it's a craving I've been having lately," she spoke with a shrug as she sat down across the table from Billie Joe; her stomach barely giving any signs of being withchild for a third time in the 1950s two-tone, satin brocade cocktail party dress she wore, that had a very sculpted, fitted bodice and circle skirt.
If weird snacking cuisine wasn't a recent craving of hers, buying vintage clothing from the 1940s and 1950s was.
"Clearly," Billie Joe muttered to what she'd said as he peered at one cup with stick pretzels, and the other filled with the iced tea powder. "So, uh...how exactly do you go about eating this avant garde hors d'oeuvre, pray tell?" he wondered as he set his beer bottle down and took one last drag from his cigarette before eyeing the cups between them.
Grinning, Beulah took one stick pretzel between her right thumb and index finger, as if displaying a very fine sword to a potential buyer. "Simple. First, you take the pretzel, then...stick it in your mouth," she began to explain as she twirled the pretzel around in her mouth so that her tongue gave it a fine coat of saliva. "Get it moist, then...stick it in the iced tea powder."
Billie Joe was momentarily distracted by the smaller picture of her rolling the tiny, thin pretzel around like a lollipop stick instead of the bigger picture of her simply demonstrating the art of her unique snack procedure.
"Make sure the pretzel is then covered really good with the powder and..." she trailed off as she popped the entire pretzel in her mouth and crunched away on it. "Eat up."
Billie Joe followed her administrations with his eyes up until she ate the crisp, narrow biscuit.
"See...now that doesn't look so bad to eat."
Beulah shook her head. "It really isn't as bad as it sounds," she assured while still chewing.
"Hey. Manners, missy. Don't speak when you got something in your mouth." Billie Joe wagged a finger at her and smirked as he added, "Just moan and groan like a good girl."
But once his comment was out in the open, he grimaced. At this point, they weren't exactly past the stage in their lives where it was okay to joke about sexual things when it was just the two of them because it brought about an awkward silence.
Like now.
It was the end of August 2007, and it was just one year earlier that the shit -- meaning their history together, affair-wise -- hit the fan, sending both Adrienne and Beulah into labor on the same day from the stress of it all. It was too soon to pretend all was fine in their world and that they could easily move on, but it's not like they couldn't stand to be around each other.
This day in particular was proof of that.
"So, um..." Billie Joe mumbled lamely, trying to break the silence as he began to share the pretzel-n-powder snackamajig with her. "Our kids' birthday is tomorrow..."
"Yeah," she nodded. "Your Ava, my Vegas. Both one whole year. Time flies, huh?"
"You're not shittin' me." Then as an afterthought, completely forgetting the tenseness in the air for a moment, Billie Joe smiled. "I still can't believe I finally have a daughter. I mean, when we started to try again for another child, I wasn't exactly attentive to the fact of wanting another like Adie did. I had...Bailey to figure out."
"To figure out? What--was your son a math problem?" Beulah stopped snacking and sat back to stare across at the older man, who stopped mid-chew. "We've had this discussion before, Billie. Let's not go there again."
"Yes. The discussion. I was a bad father, I was an asshole toward you, toward Adrienne from hiding it all...to Joey and Jakob for not being the role model I wanted to be for them. But it's not like you didn't luck out despite what I did or didn't do. You got Mike outta the deal and another son. An adorable son, mind you. So, yes. Let's not go there."
Folding her arms indignantly, Beulah scowled. "It's easy for you to always justify your actions, isn't it?"
Holding her gaze with his own, Billie Joe pushed aside the pretzel cup and the iced tea powder cup and leaned forward. "What's that supposed to mean? You didn't want me blabbing what we'd done to anyone beside who already knew anyway, either," he hissed so that only she would hear. "You had as much to lose as I did."
"No, I didn't. And you didn't lose anything."
"Yes, I fucking did. I lost my wife's trust--"
"Which you earned back."
"--her respect--"
"Also earned back."
"Would you stop that!" Billie Joe snapped a little louder than he'd planned. He looked around and caught a look from another patron sitting in a booth nearby who seemed unfazed by Green Day's Billie Joe Armstrong sitting a few feet away. Pursing his lips and looking down, he took a deep breath.
"Let's just drop it, okay?" Beulah implored. "We were getting along so well," she added just as the restaurant's front door opened and in came Mike with Vegas in his stroller and Adrienne behind him with Ava in her stroller.
"Fine with me," Billie Joe whispered back as he stood up to greet his wife and daughter. Leaning down he tickled the little girl's pudgy tummy as she giggled. "There's my girls," he cooed as he smiled up at Adrienne and made a move to kiss her.
"Hey," the brunette woman replied warily as soon as her husband's lips left hers.
Mike, on the other hand, was not in the least bit weirded out by his wife of eight months being alone with his best friend. "Hey, babe," the bassist spoke to Beulah as he pushed Vegas' stroller closer to her.
Smiling, the blonde was thankful for the distraction from her and Billie Joe's little spat as she looked down at her second son and lifted him up out of his stroller and held him in her arms. "I missed you," she said softly and a bit eagerly to Mike as he joined her in a kiss of greeting.
"So what were the two of you talking about?" Adrienne asked curiously.
"The kids turning one," Billie Joe replied simply. "You think we should have a joint party? I mean, as long as it doesn't become a long-standing tradition because I'm sure Ava and Vegas would get annoyed as they grow up, having to share the attention..."
Adrienne nodded; accepting this. "Maybe just this year we can do a joint party."
"That sound good to you?" Billie Joe asked, turning to Mike.
Mike shrugged. "I don't care. We haven't really planned it out lately with getting Bailey ready for Kindergarten."
"Sounds fine to me," Beulah spoke up. When her eyes briefly flickered upon Billie Joe's, the raven-haired man looked away quickly.
And Beulah knew.
No matter how life-sacrificingly in love Billie Joe was with Adrienne, no matter how devoted he was to her, how much he admired her and thought she was the sun to his world...Beulah knew he would always have his lust.
Despite the anger that came out when they were alone and started to argue, Beulah would be the focus of his lust until the day one of them died.
* * *
I took a break from the attic for a while and found myself meandering downstairs on the second floor, and slipped quietly into my grandmother's room that had been her lonely lair for the last thirteen years since Grandpa Mike died. For the last thirteen years she slept alone.
I can't imagine spending over forty years with the same man and then suddenly, they're gone.
Frowning, I stepped softly over to Grandma's bed and sank down, running my hand across the off-white bedspread with little pink flowers laced into the minimal design. Leaning forward a little, I slid open the bedside table's drawer and pulled out the diary I knew she kept.
Biting my lip, I couldn't not open it up and read a few entries. And by chance I flipped to an entry from about two years ago.
Clearly my grandmother didn't write in her diary very often because there were only two entries after this one in particular. And this is what it read:
Dear Diary,
Christ, how I hate starting each entry like that. Anyway, I woke up this morning. Arthritis is killing me. My hips hurt and this winter rain isn't helping my achy bones any. I just wish I could soak in a hot tub and this could all go away. But anyway, I was meaning to write about a dream I had last night. Actually it was more like a memory I revisited in my sleep.
Billie was there and he looked so young. Just like he did when I married Mike and Vegas was just a baby. His eyes were so green, I'd almost forgotten what they looked like.
Sad how little things like that escape me after all these years.
So, in the dream, I was standing next to some counter...maybe the counter at Rudy's. I don't know. Maybe in my kitchen. But I was just standing there and Billie came up to me and I swear I could smell the cologne he used to wear with a mix of the scent from the brand of cigarettes he smoked. And I could feel his breath on my neck as he walked behind me.
He was saying something, and I saw his lips moving from the corner of my eye, but I heard no words. It was like he was trying to tell me something but it was falling on deaf ears. And I felt horrible.
I woke up crying so hard.
Like the rest of us, I never got to say goodbye to Billie. He was such a part of our lives and he made his mark on mine. And in our own, dysfunctional way, him and I loved each other.
But he's gone now. 29 years this June.
Actually everyone's gone now. I'm the only one from the 'Green Day clan of adults' that's left. Those left after me are our children and grandchildren, and so on.
I'm so lonely.
Not that I'm lonely with River living here with me while she's in college, but it's not the same.
I miss the others so damn much. Tre, Claudia, Lisea, Adrienne, Billie Joe...and of course, my Michael. My husband of 43 interesting years.
He died and left me behind. Left me to wait until I could die too, so I can be with him again.
Oh, please, won't that day come soon?
-Bee,
January 3, 2060
Oh god, Grandma. I didn't realize how sad you've been. I feel like such a crap granddaughter for letting this slip under my nose.
Hugging the diary to my chest, I stood up and left Grandma Beulah's bedroom to head downstairs to make myself a cup of tea. After I gather myself, I'll head back to the attic to continue my quest...
When the nourished patron left the dining establishment with a smile and a wave goodbye, Beulah made sure the register was closed as she turned around to do something behind the counter that the Green Day frontman couldn't see. Even craning his neck didn't help figure out what it was she was doing. That was until she walked out from behind the counter with two cups full of something other than liquid.
"What is it?" Billie Joe inquired, raising one eyebrow as he peered toward the matching coffee cups, then up at her, and back.
Setting the cups down before him, Beulah smirked. "Pretzels and iced tea powder."
This time raising his eyebrow at the blonde woman who stood diagonal to him as he sat halfway off his chair, he looked mildly disgusted; yet curious. "Ew?" he replied with an uncertain tone.
"I know it's weird, but it's a craving I've been having lately," she spoke with a shrug as she sat down across the table from Billie Joe; her stomach barely giving any signs of being withchild for a third time in the 1950s two-tone, satin brocade cocktail party dress she wore, that had a very sculpted, fitted bodice and circle skirt.
If weird snacking cuisine wasn't a recent craving of hers, buying vintage clothing from the 1940s and 1950s was.
"Clearly," Billie Joe muttered to what she'd said as he peered at one cup with stick pretzels, and the other filled with the iced tea powder. "So, uh...how exactly do you go about eating this avant garde hors d'oeuvre, pray tell?" he wondered as he set his beer bottle down and took one last drag from his cigarette before eyeing the cups between them.
Grinning, Beulah took one stick pretzel between her right thumb and index finger, as if displaying a very fine sword to a potential buyer. "Simple. First, you take the pretzel, then...stick it in your mouth," she began to explain as she twirled the pretzel around in her mouth so that her tongue gave it a fine coat of saliva. "Get it moist, then...stick it in the iced tea powder."
Billie Joe was momentarily distracted by the smaller picture of her rolling the tiny, thin pretzel around like a lollipop stick instead of the bigger picture of her simply demonstrating the art of her unique snack procedure.
"Make sure the pretzel is then covered really good with the powder and..." she trailed off as she popped the entire pretzel in her mouth and crunched away on it. "Eat up."
Billie Joe followed her administrations with his eyes up until she ate the crisp, narrow biscuit.
"See...now that doesn't look so bad to eat."
Beulah shook her head. "It really isn't as bad as it sounds," she assured while still chewing.
"Hey. Manners, missy. Don't speak when you got something in your mouth." Billie Joe wagged a finger at her and smirked as he added, "Just moan and groan like a good girl."
But once his comment was out in the open, he grimaced. At this point, they weren't exactly past the stage in their lives where it was okay to joke about sexual things when it was just the two of them because it brought about an awkward silence.
Like now.
It was the end of August 2007, and it was just one year earlier that the shit -- meaning their history together, affair-wise -- hit the fan, sending both Adrienne and Beulah into labor on the same day from the stress of it all. It was too soon to pretend all was fine in their world and that they could easily move on, but it's not like they couldn't stand to be around each other.
This day in particular was proof of that.
"So, um..." Billie Joe mumbled lamely, trying to break the silence as he began to share the pretzel-n-powder snackamajig with her. "Our kids' birthday is tomorrow..."
"Yeah," she nodded. "Your Ava, my Vegas. Both one whole year. Time flies, huh?"
"You're not shittin' me." Then as an afterthought, completely forgetting the tenseness in the air for a moment, Billie Joe smiled. "I still can't believe I finally have a daughter. I mean, when we started to try again for another child, I wasn't exactly attentive to the fact of wanting another like Adie did. I had...Bailey to figure out."
"To figure out? What--was your son a math problem?" Beulah stopped snacking and sat back to stare across at the older man, who stopped mid-chew. "We've had this discussion before, Billie. Let's not go there again."
"Yes. The discussion. I was a bad father, I was an asshole toward you, toward Adrienne from hiding it all...to Joey and Jakob for not being the role model I wanted to be for them. But it's not like you didn't luck out despite what I did or didn't do. You got Mike outta the deal and another son. An adorable son, mind you. So, yes. Let's not go there."
Folding her arms indignantly, Beulah scowled. "It's easy for you to always justify your actions, isn't it?"
Holding her gaze with his own, Billie Joe pushed aside the pretzel cup and the iced tea powder cup and leaned forward. "What's that supposed to mean? You didn't want me blabbing what we'd done to anyone beside who already knew anyway, either," he hissed so that only she would hear. "You had as much to lose as I did."
"No, I didn't. And you didn't lose anything."
"Yes, I fucking did. I lost my wife's trust--"
"Which you earned back."
"--her respect--"
"Also earned back."
"Would you stop that!" Billie Joe snapped a little louder than he'd planned. He looked around and caught a look from another patron sitting in a booth nearby who seemed unfazed by Green Day's Billie Joe Armstrong sitting a few feet away. Pursing his lips and looking down, he took a deep breath.
"Let's just drop it, okay?" Beulah implored. "We were getting along so well," she added just as the restaurant's front door opened and in came Mike with Vegas in his stroller and Adrienne behind him with Ava in her stroller.
"Fine with me," Billie Joe whispered back as he stood up to greet his wife and daughter. Leaning down he tickled the little girl's pudgy tummy as she giggled. "There's my girls," he cooed as he smiled up at Adrienne and made a move to kiss her.
"Hey," the brunette woman replied warily as soon as her husband's lips left hers.
Mike, on the other hand, was not in the least bit weirded out by his wife of eight months being alone with his best friend. "Hey, babe," the bassist spoke to Beulah as he pushed Vegas' stroller closer to her.
Smiling, the blonde was thankful for the distraction from her and Billie Joe's little spat as she looked down at her second son and lifted him up out of his stroller and held him in her arms. "I missed you," she said softly and a bit eagerly to Mike as he joined her in a kiss of greeting.
"So what were the two of you talking about?" Adrienne asked curiously.
"The kids turning one," Billie Joe replied simply. "You think we should have a joint party? I mean, as long as it doesn't become a long-standing tradition because I'm sure Ava and Vegas would get annoyed as they grow up, having to share the attention..."
Adrienne nodded; accepting this. "Maybe just this year we can do a joint party."
"That sound good to you?" Billie Joe asked, turning to Mike.
Mike shrugged. "I don't care. We haven't really planned it out lately with getting Bailey ready for Kindergarten."
"Sounds fine to me," Beulah spoke up. When her eyes briefly flickered upon Billie Joe's, the raven-haired man looked away quickly.
And Beulah knew.
No matter how life-sacrificingly in love Billie Joe was with Adrienne, no matter how devoted he was to her, how much he admired her and thought she was the sun to his world...Beulah knew he would always have his lust.
Despite the anger that came out when they were alone and started to argue, Beulah would be the focus of his lust until the day one of them died.
* * *
I took a break from the attic for a while and found myself meandering downstairs on the second floor, and slipped quietly into my grandmother's room that had been her lonely lair for the last thirteen years since Grandpa Mike died. For the last thirteen years she slept alone.
I can't imagine spending over forty years with the same man and then suddenly, they're gone.
Frowning, I stepped softly over to Grandma's bed and sank down, running my hand across the off-white bedspread with little pink flowers laced into the minimal design. Leaning forward a little, I slid open the bedside table's drawer and pulled out the diary I knew she kept.
Biting my lip, I couldn't not open it up and read a few entries. And by chance I flipped to an entry from about two years ago.
Clearly my grandmother didn't write in her diary very often because there were only two entries after this one in particular. And this is what it read:
Dear Diary,
Christ, how I hate starting each entry like that. Anyway, I woke up this morning. Arthritis is killing me. My hips hurt and this winter rain isn't helping my achy bones any. I just wish I could soak in a hot tub and this could all go away. But anyway, I was meaning to write about a dream I had last night. Actually it was more like a memory I revisited in my sleep.
Billie was there and he looked so young. Just like he did when I married Mike and Vegas was just a baby. His eyes were so green, I'd almost forgotten what they looked like.
Sad how little things like that escape me after all these years.
So, in the dream, I was standing next to some counter...maybe the counter at Rudy's. I don't know. Maybe in my kitchen. But I was just standing there and Billie came up to me and I swear I could smell the cologne he used to wear with a mix of the scent from the brand of cigarettes he smoked. And I could feel his breath on my neck as he walked behind me.
He was saying something, and I saw his lips moving from the corner of my eye, but I heard no words. It was like he was trying to tell me something but it was falling on deaf ears. And I felt horrible.
I woke up crying so hard.
Like the rest of us, I never got to say goodbye to Billie. He was such a part of our lives and he made his mark on mine. And in our own, dysfunctional way, him and I loved each other.
But he's gone now. 29 years this June.
Actually everyone's gone now. I'm the only one from the 'Green Day clan of adults' that's left. Those left after me are our children and grandchildren, and so on.
I'm so lonely.
Not that I'm lonely with River living here with me while she's in college, but it's not the same.
I miss the others so damn much. Tre, Claudia, Lisea, Adrienne, Billie Joe...and of course, my Michael. My husband of 43 interesting years.
He died and left me behind. Left me to wait until I could die too, so I can be with him again.
Oh, please, won't that day come soon?
-Bee,
January 3, 2060
Oh god, Grandma. I didn't realize how sad you've been. I feel like such a crap granddaughter for letting this slip under my nose.
Hugging the diary to my chest, I stood up and left Grandma Beulah's bedroom to head downstairs to make myself a cup of tea. After I gather myself, I'll head back to the attic to continue my quest...