The Ballad of Michael & Beulah

In the spring of 2021, Uncle Bailey was twenty years old and going to college all the way across the country in Long Island where he was finishing his sophomore year at Five Towns College. Apparently it was this small, private college that catered to music performance, music education, music theater and audio recording. And the only reason he went to this particular college was because it was someplace far away. After high school he'd gotten stir crazy; insistent on being on his own, away from his family for once in his life. Of course he wasn't prepared for the professors that kissed his ass just because of who his father was and his fellow classmates thinking him a snob, also because of who his father was.

This typically left the only child of Uncle Billie with my grandma to his own devices.

According to the old email printouts I'd just found, Uncle Bailey was sick and tired of the New York City and Long Island areas; deeming them as the East Coast's version of Los Angeles and Beverly Hills. He felt the people there were way too into themselves, superficial and didn't give a shit about anyone but themselves. There was no brotherly love he'd had growing up in the more blue collared Oakland, with millionaire, rockstar fathers -- being Uncle Billie and Grandpa -- who gave him blue collared morals.

He was writing to Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle Billie about wanting to come home for good. He already applied to UC Berkeley where he was planning to transfer to that upcoming fall and had been accepted. All that was left of his stay, dorming and going to school at Five Towns, was the spring concert being held that April of 2021, at Lincoln Center's Alice Tully Hall with the college Choir; that of which he was a tenor in.

* * *

Filing into their seats in the front row of Alice Tully Hall, Mike placed his hand on the small of Beulah's back before they sat down; whispering something in her ear that made her smile. To her left was Mike and then on her right was Billie Joe who, at the moment, didn't look at all like his age of forty-nine.

Perhaps it was the dim lighting in the concert hall, or perhaps it was just because he was finally taking better care of himself after all these years because of his doctor getting on his case about his smoking and then some. Either way, Billie Joe looked well.

The three of them sat together, chatting back and forth about this and that until Five Towns' concert band came out and began to perform several selections.

All of which bored the trio in the first row.

However, when the Choir finally came out at the end of the show, they sat up considerably straighter and began to beam as they spotted Bailey walking across the third riser, dressed in a black tux, to join the rest of the tenors. When he spotted his parents, he sent them a smile, which cause them to talk amongst themselves in hushed voices about how nice he looked and how amazing it was that he was so grown-up now.

The Choir performed five songs, one of which featured a solo sung by none other than Bailey. Though, because it was a solo from a Rogers & Hammerstein musical, Billie Joe and Mike couldn't help but smirk a little.

It just didn't scream Bailey. He was so much like his father and stepfather that anything besides punk rock or regular rock was just...sacrilege.

Alas, the concert finally came to an end and the threesome who made their way into the entrance foyer...thingy. Standing off to a corner by themselves, they waited patiently for Bailey to find them and when he did, hugs and kisses were a plenty.

Instead of heading back to school via the bus he'd traveled on with his other choir mates, he hopped into the limo his parents had rented for the evening because they knew very well how indifferent his classmates acted toward him. Billie Joe, Mike and Beulah felt the need to rub his life in their faces because they were proud of the great kid he'd turned out to be.

But, unbeknownst to Bailey, his mother and stepfather weren't talking as much. To each other.

The thing was that they'd been bickering for the last week about little things. Not even they really knew why they found the stupidest things to argue over, but somehow they still did. Part of it had a lot to do with how Green Day had fallen apart as a band earlier that year, but not, necessarily as friends. Sure, they still jammed together on occasion, but it was for simple recreational purposes. Whenever talk of their careers came up, they began to argue amongst themselves and Beulah's name was readily pulled into it.

Billie Joe was the one to brand her as the Yoko to their Beatles. He felt that Mike was devoting too much time on her and their family and from there everything had snowballed. Mike retaliated with how he always felt Billie Joe was trying to overshadow him and Tre by pulling Adrienne in and promote Adeline Records and then their clothing label, Adeline Street. He said Billie Joe had started turning them into a marketing tool instead of a band right after the success of American Idiot. Larger fights erupted -- verbal and physical, and the trio parted ways after the holidays, in January.

But despite everything that had gone down, the only thing that seemed to stick and remain a sore spot was Billie Joe referring to Beulah as the Yoko. Because anyone who's familiar with pop culture knows that Yoko Ono, John Lennon's wife, was supposedly the reason the Beatles broke up. That it was all her fault.

And somehow, as things usually do, the details of Green Day's split surfaced and fans of theirs who were now grown-up, in the middle ages, and even the younger fans who were Bailey's age, began to share the sentiment that the breakup was all Beulah's fault.

And Beulah's aloof response to it all was the strong point in her recent bicker with Mike. He wanted her to get mad, defend herself, or not. But she just felt that it didn't matter what people said as long as she and him were okay.

The three adults and their son head on to a restaurant near Central Park and then afterward headed to the hotel they were staying at. They even reserved a third room for Bailey so he didn't have to return to Long Island that night.

When they were in all of their rooms, Mike and Beulah were at it again and Bailey happened to walk in during their spat because they'd given him an extra card key.

When he inquired what was wrong, they shook it off as nothing and Mike patted Bailey affectionately on the shoulder and gave him a smile.

"C'mon, let's go out and see the city," Mike suggested.

"But, Dad, what about--" Bailey began, but was cut off by his stepfather.

"Ah, c'mon. Me and you. Let's go bond."

Without another word, Mike led his stepson out of the hotel room, leaving Beulah to her own devices.

And the mini bar.

* * *

It was a little after one in the morning when Billie Joe knocked on Mike and Beulah's hotel room door; standing in the hallway with his hands in his pockets and still wearing the same style of pants, his infamous dickies, that he'd worn since high school.

Twisting his lips from slight sleepiness and boredom, while he waited for an answer, he swayed back and forth on the heels of his feet.

Finally, he heard a muffled, "I see you out there."

Smirking, Billie Joe nodded as he looked at the peephole in the door Beulah was clearly looking through on the other side.

"Do I look distorted?"

"Distorted and old. But still pretty," she muttered back with a funny laugh.

"At least I'm still pretty," he replied. "Is Bailey in there with you guys?"

Silence.

"Beulah?"

"Mike took him out a while ago to see the city."

"Oh."

More silence.

"You wanna come in?" Beulah asked suddenly.

Staring at the door, Billie Joe cocked his head to the right a little. "I would if there wasn't a door blocking my way." With that, the door clicked open and Beulah stood before him looking very disheveled and her eyes were a bit glassy. "Have you been hitting the mini bar?" Billie Joe inquired as he stepped past her into the first part of the suite.

The sitting room.

"Maybe just a little."

Scanning the nearest table, the green-eyed punk found several empty bottles of mini liquor bottles that weren't necessarily cheap. Some were overturned, some upright. There was even on still in Beulah's hand in which she was holding the neck of the small bottle between her thumb and forefinger.

As she shut the door behind him, Beulah sauntered languidly into the sitting room with Billie Joe and turned off the TV she'd had on to infomercials.

"Did you catch Saturday Night Live?" he asked. "I thought it was funny tonight."

Beulah shook her head. "Nope. Who...hosted?" she slurred a bit.

"Dakota Fanning."

"Gawd," Beulah drawled. "That little girl's, like, what? How old now?"

"Around the same as Joey. Twenty-six or twenty-seven, I think."

"Huh," was the 41-year-old's only response as her blue eyes flitted upon Billie Joe's green ones.

"You looked bummed," he commented.

"I have good reason." Sinking down onto the sofa, she continued, while downing the last sip out of the bottle and placing it on the coffee table in front of her. "Mike and I were arguing a little before he left and Bailey walked in on the end of it, your fans all over the world hate me because you think I'm the Yoko Ono of the 21st century and, oh yeah," she pointed up at him accusing. "Did I mention how you've called me the Yoko Ono of the 21st century?"

Frowning, Billie Joe stepped forward. "Well, I--"

Standing up abruptly, Beulah stumbled to the side a bit as Billie Joe reached out to steady her, but she shook his hand off.

"How can you blame me for the band falling apart? As if I sought out your demise. Please!"

"I'm sorry, Bee. I didn't mean it against your character, just..."

"Just shut up, is what you can do, you arrogant, self-involved prick."

Eyes widening with surprise, Billie Joe parted his lips to retaliate, but then decided against it. "Sorry," was all he offered.

Her head tipping back slightly, Beulah closed her eyes and smiled.

"You've come a long way, Billie," she whispered hoarsely. "You'll always be an ass, but the years have done a number on you, y'know?" Looking back at him she leaned in toward his face. "Still handsome, still an ass...but quicker to apologize for your mistakes and...stuff."

"It's a far cry from who I was when we...in the beginning when...you and me...you know?"

Nodding with a smirk, she laughed. "Gawd, yes." Continuing with her smirk, Beulah reached out and curled a lock of his graying, dark hair around her fingers and patted the opposite side of his face with her free hand.

"So different, but still the same. Always will be. And you know...I owe you for two great things. Actually, uh...five things. You gave me Bailey, then your asshole-ness led Mike to me, and then I got Vegas and Aurora out of that deal. Not to mention a great stepdaughter out of Estelle."

"Well, in that case, you're welcome."

Neither had really realized that they'd been holding that pose -- with her holding his face and then him placing a hand on her waist -- for a while now.

Until Billie Joe leaned in and kissed her. And it wasn't a friend-like kiss. It was a slightly heated one.

Stunned, himself, he pulled back and swore under his breath.

"Shit. Sorry."

"We...haven't kissed in fifteen years," she added, eyeing him warily.

"I know."

And then they were at it again. Like a heroin addict who'd been clean for a very long time that had just been given a new hit, Billie Joe and Beulah's hearts began to race as they fumbled at kissing and groping one another.

"I'm a little drunk, y'know."

"If you think I'm taking advantage, I'll stop now."

But Beulah didn't say anything else to sway him otherwise. Instead they practically tangoed about the room as their clothes came peeling away and they found themselves in the bedroom part of the suite.

As they fell back down upon the bed, Beulah looked up at Billie Joe and whispered, "This is the only time, understand? We never speak of this. Deal?"

"Deal," Billie Joe agreed, hovering above her half-naked body with his own. "Under one condition."

"Name it."

"Can we be friends?"

Pulling her face away and deeper back into the pillow behind her head, Beulah narrowed her eyes and then smirked. "We haven't been actual friends in thirty years."

"Well, what can I say?" he flashed her grin. "The times, they are a-changin'."

Without another word, the two re-friends made love for the first time in 15 years, and the last time in the rest of their lives.

Ever.