Good Man

This time
This place
Misused
Mistakes
Too long
Too late
Who's there to make you ache?



It was evening again.

The sun had set, the sky was a grayish shade of blue, but all the stars in the sky weren't visible, but not because it wasn't late enough, but because of all the rain clouds blocking any view of them. The air was muggy and humid, and the rainfall did little to knock a few integers off the temperature.

The sounds of a Disney DVD carried on the air in Caroline's house as her children watched their movie in the family room, just off the kitchen where she was sitting with a glass of lemonade in her hands.

How suburban.

She was thinking about how warm it was, even with the air conditioning on inside the house. She was thinking about her kids and how fast they seemed to be growing up with each passing day. She was thinking about how she'd discussed with Dave and Nef, the latter of whom had just arrived to Buffalo, about how the remainder of music videos they put out for their album would have to be done without her. She thought about how easily they accepted this, deciding to just have the music with stock footage and different graphics used instead of spending two days in LA filming performance shots and whatnot. She thought about how lucky she was to have such good friends who were there for her.

The one thing she avoided thinking about was Giselle.

Well, both Giselle and Mike.

It amused her how people always said time healed all pain, especially when you can hear in the tone of their voices that they don't believe the words coming from their own lips.

Time just numbed you, and the pain left you with something missing; physically, mentally, spiritually, intimately. And to fill that void, people like Caroline, and now Tre, leaned toward stupid things. Things that haphazardly made up for what they were lacking in ways that only lasted for a short time, and once the moment had passed, were left with the same feeling in the pit of their stomach.

And it wasn't just the people who were directly in the path of loss. It wasn't just the husbands, the wives or the children. It was the friends who lost a friend and were now worried about losing the friends that were still living to the slow creeping hand of grief.

Something like that tore at every fiber of a person's being when they felt helpless; that there was nothing he or she could do.

That's why Billie Joe Armstrong was on an American Airlines flight from San Francisco to Buffalo; to reach out and make sure one of his grieving friends was alright and didn't do anything stupid.

Again.



At quarter to eight that night, Billie Joe was stepping out of his flight's gate, carrying nothing but his iPod in his hand, with a pair of dark sunglasses on the bridge of his nose and a tan-colored snap cap on his head. Wearing a pair of khaki shorts that hung past his knees and his more than a decade old black and blue striped T-shirt, the 41-year-old guitarist looked like someone half his age. But when the sunglasses came off and you looked closely at his face and dark brown hair, you could see the deeper lines from wrinkles and gray hairs, signifying his age.

While he walked the seemingly long way to the apex where both wings of the Buffalo-Niagara International Airport joined together, he passed several of the people with whom he'd shared a flight from Chicago, which had been his layover. To the left was a wide enough path that ran parallel with the security checkpoints, just after the hall area that led toward the food court.

Billie Joe looked down that hallway and his stomach growled but he had a schedule to keep.

Well, sort of.

For the most part he just wanted to get to Caroline's house not too late considering it was close to nine.

Having been in this airport several times before when Mike was still alive, he knew that he had a choice of either taking the glass elevator or the escalator straight ahead of him to get to the lower level where the baggage claim was.

Stepping more toward the left he decided upon the escalator. Upon reaching the ground floor, he moved toward one of the four conveyor belts of the baggage claim area, after checking the sign above stating the baggage that would be appearing would be from his flight. And so he stood there, waiting, avoiding eye contact with anyone else and thought to himself that he must look weird with sunglasses on at night.

Then he laughed softly to himself.

"I wear my sunglasses at night," he sang under his breath. "So I can, so I can...watch you weave, then breathe your story lines..."

Only one person nearest him heard him, looked at his profile out the corner of their eye and then smirked. But the smirk was short lived as the thunk sound of the luggage carousel sputtered to life, announcing the flight's luggage was forthcoming.



By ten o'clock, the Pritchard children were fast asleep, but only after giving Caroline a difficult time. Chloe, who was in her terrible twos now and was nowhere short of crankiness and sass. It also didn't help much that Mikey thought he could get away with anything when his mother wasn't looking, like trying to run outside now that he was getting tall enough and smart enough to reach the lock on the house's side entrance door and unlock it.

Caroline was tired, wired and in need of adult companionship once again.

It had been since that morning when she last seen another grown-up when Dave and Nef had been over for a short visit. It had also been a few days since she last shared her bed with Dave, and was now feeling guilty about the entire thing. Maybe it was because she felt as if she were merely using her friend, maybe it was the sense of betraying her deceased husband's memory with the one-year anniversary of his death just around the corner.

Or maybe it was confusion.

Maybe she was just unsure of how she should be feeling, acting, carrying on, going about her life as a single woman.

Caroline often shuddered at those two words.

Single woman.

She didn't want to think of herself as that. She wasn't single. She was widowed. Her other half was simply no longer living on this plane of existence anymore and never would again. That was that. There was nothing else to it. And though her friends and family believed she should eventually move on and find another to spend her life with and not end up alone for the rest of her days, it was hard to do just that. There couldn't be anyone to replace Mike. All others would fall short of the man he was.

So what was the point in what could only be short-lived flings and pseudo-relationships? There was only one need that could be provided in any of them, and that was sex. But why did it have to make her feel so cheap and dirty afterward?

She tried pushing it all to the back of her mind, which only left her with the fact that she was still tired, wired and in need of adult companionship once again.

Caroline sighed and when she sighed it usually led her mind to wander away toward thoughts of Mike. No matter how hard she tried, it always went back to him and the lack of him in her life. It was still a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach that she felt and nothing she did made it go away.

And then there came a knock at the door, followed by a few softer raps.

Caroline -- who was trying to watch a repeat episode of Sex and the City which involved Carrie inviting Samantha to Aiden's home in Suffern, New York -- turned her attention to the sound and planted her feet on the floor as she turned off the television; getting up and leaving the living room and then heading toward the side entrance door.

Peering through the window, she parted her lips and then pursed them back together, frowning slightly. As she bowed her head downward and unlocked the door which had been locked for the night, she opened it up for the man who had always been like a brother to her and her dead husband.

"Billie," she muttered cautiously. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood," he joked lightly.

"Three thousand miles away from Oakland is not in the neighborhood."

"Meh." Billie Joe shrugged, holding his single piece of luggage in his right hand. "Tomato, Tomahto."

"I'm serious."

"Well, then, if we're being serious, I'm here because I was worried about you. You've been gone three weeks and you never said goodbye to anyone or why you left so suddenly. I mean, yeah, I think it's obvious why, but you didn't have to take this drastic of a measure."

Caroline simply looked at Billie Joe and continued to frown. "So, now you know me inside, out? You know exactly how my mind works, what I'm thinking at all times...what I'm feeling..."

"Care..."

"No. Don't start, Billie. I heard all this spiel the first time around when Mike died, I didn't need to go through it again with Giselle gone. I just couldn't take it, so I figured 'why should I?' So I left. Okay? Is that fine with you?"

"No, it's not fine. You can't just walk away from your problems or, in your case, fly away."

"Well," Caroline shrugged smugly, turning on the heels of her feet and walking away toward the living room. "I can and I did."

However, Billie Joe reached out his free hand and grabbed her arm before she got away. "Hey, don't do that. Stop avoiding. It's childish."

"Then let me be childish," she retorted. "I never asked you to come here, and as far as I'm concerned, you're trespassing on private property."

"You opened the door."

"I didn't say for you to come inside."

"You gonna call the cops on me, then?" Billie Joe was half joking, but a part of him wondered if Caroline seriously would.

"Why bother?"

Snaking her arm out of his grip, Caroline moved from the direction of the living room and instead headed toward the stairwell where she successfully ascended the steps with Billie Joe left behind figuring out what he should do next.

The further up toward the second floor Caroline got, Billie Joe quickly shut the door, re-locked it and left his suitcase next to the door. Kicking off his shoes and leaving them near the shoe mat where he spotted Mikey's little pair of red Chucks, the 41-year-old guitarist couldn't help but take a moment to smile at the cuteness that was the little shoes before turning on his own heels and heading up after Caroline.

She was already walking into her bedroom and about to close the door behind her when Billie Joe reached the second floor and stuck a hand out to keep the door open. The gesture caught Caroline off guard and she turned to inspect what was preventing the closing. When her eyes followed the length of his arm up to his face, her frown reappeared.

"You can't come across."

"And you can't keep avoiding your problems."

"Death isn't a problem. It's another goddamn chapter in the book of goddamn life. I've turned the page. You should, too."

"It's not healthy to walk away from it all. It'll eat at you."

Shifting her weight from one leg to another, Caroline stared directly into Billie Joe's eyes and whispered, as not to wake her children, "Leave."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. You have two feet attached to your legs. Utilize them."

"Caroline, we're friends. You're like my little sister and I can't not stay. I mean, don't you care how Tre is doing without his wife? Or, how your niece is doing without her mother?"

Caroline sighed, caving slightly. Billie Joe seemed to have a somewhat calming effect on her.

There was a pause between them, and then she opened her door further, gesturing for him to come inside her bedroom. And as he crossed the barrier, she pointed toward a settee on the opposite side of the room from her bed, where she casually strode over to before sitting down on the bottom end.

Once Billie Joe was seated, hands folded between his knees, he looked over at his dear friend and offered her somewhat of a smile. He sensed she wasn't going to make the first move to speak and ask about Tre and Avarielle, so he did.

"Tre's a wreck," he began. "He hasn't left the house since the funeral and can't be bothered to take care of Avarielle; kinda like how you were after Mike died. He's like this zombie, walking through everything in such a daze..."

"He's numb," Caroline offered, knowing exactly what Tre was going through.

In the back of her mind she knew she should've never left, that she should've stayed and been there to share her grief of losing her sister with Tre, as well as sharing some words of advice of how to deal with losing a spouse from one widowed person to another. But, instead, she flew away.

Billie Joe nodded. "Basically. As for Avarielle, Ellis is doing most of the work in taking care of her. She's really stepping up to the plate and being the mother figure that little girl needs right now. Tre's mom and sister Lori are doing what they can with Adie and Claudia's help, but it's hard. They don't have the time on their hands like Ellis does. Ellis doesn't have any other person in her life now except for Avarielle. Tre was really steamed at first about Ellis coming over every day to take care of the baby, but this last week I think he's gotten used to it. In fact, I think he's appreciative of it. It's giving him the time to grieve, but I don't think he should completely abandon his job as a father, widower or not."

Caroline simply nodded. "Is Avarielle doing okay?"

"Yeah, she's doing really well. Apparently she's colicky and cries a lot. I almost think part of that is because she senses her mom is gone and her father's distant."

"Who knows."

Silence befell the pair just then as they looked downward and away from each other. Billie Joe focused on a nick in the dresser along the wall to his right while Caroline's gaze latched onto the window nearest her, on her right, and the large oak tree beyond it.

The window was open and the sounds of distant traffic and crickets wafted into the bedroom along with a slight summer breeze. It was a perfect night out; the ran had scattered away rather quickly, the sky was cloudless, the temperature warm but not sticky hot, and the air had that certain scent that filled one's mind with memories of summers from childhood when nothing was wrong with the world and life was still but a dream.

Caroline blinked.

She wasn't thinking of summers from her childhood spent camping with her family and all the adventures she had with Giselle, playing make believe. She was thinking of recent summers; particularly last summer.

"A year has gone so fast," she quietly spoke, still looking out the window.

Without missing a beat, Billie Joe knew what she was talking about. "Yeah, I know. Seems like it happened yesterday, doesn't it?"

Caroline nodded, not sure if he noticed her doing so, but doing it nonetheless. "Every day I'm reminded he's not here." She finally turned her gaze toward Billie Joe. "I'm not trying to downplay your loss in all this, but you don't exactly have the same daily reminder as I do. You can go about your routine, maybe forget about Mike's face for a while. I can't. I have to look into the faces of my kids and see Mike every time."

Billie Joe had no response, just looked her in the eye until she looked away.

Again, it became silent once more.

Placing his hands on his knees, Billie Joe pulled himself up into a standing position and walked over to Caroline. Giving her a side hug and a kiss on her forehead, he leaned back and smiled at her.

"How about we talk tomorrow and I let you sleep," he said gently. "I'll show myself to one of the extra bedrooms. I'm kinda beat anyway. Slight jetlag and all."

Caroline nodded. "Okay."

Billie Joe walked away and as he headed out of the room, they exchanged good night wishes.



The following morning, when Billie Joe woke up and came downstairs, he was greeted by an ecstatic Michael Ryan Pritchard, Jr. who came running up to the grown up with arms opened wide.

"Uncle Billie!" Mikey had exclaimed in glee.

Billie Joe had scooped the child up, planted kisses all over his face and tickled him some before setting him back down on the ground to go run off and play in the family room. As for Chloe, the little girl had seemed a little wary at first, staring up at Billie Joe as if inspecting him for deer ticks, but then she wrapped her arms around his legs and hugged them tightly, almost as if she were desperate for some semblance of a father figure.

As the day progressed, Billie Joe decided he would make dinner for them all, which was welcomed news to Caroline who always enjoyed a reason not to cook. And while the green eyed man went about preparing the meal that evening, he studied Caroline; all her comments, how she carried herself, the looks she gave her children, Billie Joe and to no one in particular when she didn't know anyone was looking.

After dinner was over and done with, he scooped out small bowls of ice cream for both kids, as well as for Caroline and himself, both of them talking about this and that, but for some reason, neither feeling the need to talk about any deep issues at the moment.

Billie Joe had already spoken with Adrienne on the phone several times, letting her know Caroline seemed fine, but also that he felt she was evading her grief and he was planning on staying a while in Buffalo to be with her; to be that extra ear to listen and that extra shoulder to lean on. Adrienne let her husband know she was proud to have such a considerate man in her life and promised him some good lovin' for when he came home in a week or so.

The rest of the evening, Billie Joe began to truly believe that maybe, after all, Caroline was fine; that after the harsh blow to her soul that was the loss of Mike, anything further was easier to deal with. After all, and not to downplay Giselle's death, Mike didn't die of natural causes like Giselle did. He'd been murdered. His death was brutal, unnecessary and, well...violent. Giselle's, though it was still tragic and untimely in its own right, had probably been a long time coming while, at the same time, sudden. Giselle would've felt no pain with her death, whereas Mike felt the excruciating pain of a white hot fire searing through his body from two gun shot wounds, alongside internal bleeding, choking on his own blood and struggling to breathe while knowing he was dying and would have to leave his world behind.

It was no wonder why Caroline was accepting her sister's death more easily than her husband's.

Well, not to mention, she had been there when Mike was shot, and had been holding him in her arms when he died.

That night, as Billie Joe was helping Caroline put her children to bed, he turned when he sensed her staring at him. She stood in the doorway to Chloe's bedroom, leaning against the doorframe with a distant look in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he stepped out of the toddler's room and closed the door behind him.

Instead of a yes or no answer, all Billie Joe got was, "The last time anyone put my kids to bed with me, was Mike."

After that was said, she turned around and walked off toward her room. Following her, the guitarist watched Caroline fiddle about with objects on her dresser, while avoiding his gaze.

"If you wanna go to sleep now, I'll let you go and turn in myself...it's been a long day," he suggested.

Caroline stopped fiddling, holding onto a small bottle in her right hand and looking up at Billie Joe. "Do me a favor?" she inquired in a small voice.

Billie Joe nodded. "That's what friends are for."

"Wear some of this for me."

Caroline held up a bottle of what appeared to be perfume, but on closer inspection was clearly men's cologne; and more specifically, the brand Mike used to wear. At first hesitant and skeptical as to where Caroline was going with this, it took only a few moments for Billie Joe to agree to the random request.

Twisting off the cap, the long since familiar scent spiraling up toward both their nostrils, Caroline pressed two fingers to the rim and dabbed some cologne onto his neck, just slightly. The both of them standing there awkwardly, Caroline looked downward and Billie Joe could see she was struggling to get the cap back onto the bottle, and was not expecting the tears that suddenly began to appear at the corners of her eyes.

Getting upset with the bottle, and clearly something else, Caroline's chin began to quiver as she took a few steadying breaths, so Billie Joe took the bottle from her and set it on the edge of the dresser. Placing a hand on her shoulder to try and calm her down, he became struck by how she looked up at him.

In a swift gesture, Caroline cupped his face in her hands and kissed him out of the blue.

When the moment passed, Billie Joe pulled apart and began to mutter something out of surprise but when she began to drag him over to the bed, the 41-year-old went from feeling surprise to confusion in mere seconds.

It wasn't until she began to try pulling his shirt off that it became crystal clear that she was suddenly not seeing or thinking clearly at this point.

"Care, what are you---?"

But his question was cut off by her lips once again upon his, shutting him up for moment. And for that very moment, he admittedly found everything turned topsy-turvy as he tried to focus on the here and now. But when she pushed him down onto her bed and climbed up over him, he snapped back to reality once more and started to wriggle out from underneath her.

"Care, you gotta stop. You're not thinking---"

For a second time, she cut him off with a kiss so Billie Joe was forced to grabbed her arms with both his hands and shove her off him, but her legs around his waist were stronger than he'd imagined and she remained attached to him like a vice. He began to feel the slight rise of an anxiety attack setting in along with a rise from down under that was beginning to frighten him to think he could lose his self control in this situation.

He hadn't been prepared for this turn of events and he wanted to pry her off of him, but he wasn't about to overpower her and throw her off like some rag doll infested with fleas. He was more of a gentleman than that.

On the other hand, he didn't want to be raped by his grief-stricken friend.

However, despite what he wanted and didn't want, he couldn't seem to fight how his body was reacting, and her ministrations above him were planting the seeds for his arousal.

"Care, we can't do this," he blandly pleaded, but her hands working their way up and down his chest after she'd successfully yanked off his shirt was driving him nuts and the sensation her fingernails made as they scratched their way further down was enough for him to just explode right there, and he was quite embarrassed by this.

"We...we can't," he muttered breathlessly. "I'm...mar--Adrienne, Care. I can't..."

But his labored attempts to plea fell on deaf ears and suddenly he became overwhelmed, and not just by what she was doing, but what she was feeling.

Her grief was pouring out of her and he could sense it and it was stirring up his own repressed grief he hadn't visited in some time now. It had been a while since he allowed himself to open up and cry for losing Mike nearly a year ago and suddenly this closeness to his dead best friend's wife appeared to be a way to deal.

So, Billie Joe gave in.

Rolling her over so that he was on top, the tables turned as he finished taking off his own clothes and the pair began to share the duties of practically ripping hers off. And it took no time at all for her legs to snake around his waist and pull him down to her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and ran her fingers through his hair. Claiming each other's lips, and hands roaming where they knew she shouldn't be roaming, the pair rolled around on the bed a few times before settling into a simple position and their bodies officially connected.

Their was a gasp of surprise between both and then the age old, horizontal dance commenced as Billie Joe made love to his good friend until they both collapsed beside each other, quite languidly spent.

Laying there for minutes, staring up at the ceiling, Billie Joe and Caroline sat up on opposite sides of the bed, covering up with bed sheets and feeling very sheepish and guilty about the fact that they'd just had sex.

Okay, so in a sense it was comfort sex.

Okay, okay. Really good comfort sex.

Both naked, both bare and vulnerable, Billie Joe was the one to make the move to get up and reach for his clothes.

"I'm just gonna...uh, go to back to the guest room..." he muttered lamely.

But as he slid his pants on, Caroline's voice squeaked out. "You can stay," she offered. "I'm sorry about...this. But, please...don't leave me alone."

Hesitating again, Billie Joe looked down at her but quickly agreed. Throwing his shirt to her, he looked away as she pulled it on over her head and then laid down. Climbing in beside her, Billie Joe wrapped his arm around her waist and curled up against her, holding her close.

Because that's what friends are for.