Sick of Me

"Momma?" I heard a soft, cautious voice calling, waking me up almost immediately.

Standing at the foot of the bed was a little brunette girl. My little girl. Her big, green eyes were wide, staring out the window as she clutched onto her stuffed horse, Tom. It had been storming all night which wasn't usual for late October.

"What's up, little girl?" I sat up and looked over at the clock. It was three in the morning.

"When is Daddy coming home?"

She was anxious to hear my reply because Billie Joe had been away on yet another tour. The guys were currently in Europe finishing up their 2001 semi-world tour. They were so physically exhausted and drained that they couldn't go to South America, Australia or Asia this time around.

"Oh Rita Mae… Your dad will be home in a week." I told her, but I don't think it mattered to the six-year-old girl.

"Can we call him? Please?" She begged me, climbing up onto the bed and sitting on Billie's side.

Quickly adding nine hours to figure out the time difference I nodded and picked up the phone. I dialed the number that Billie had given me. I had no idea whose it was, but all I know is that it puts me in contact with him whenever I need to be.

"Hello?" The voice answered, sounding somewhat annoyed.

"Hi Billie Joe. Someone here really misses you." I watched Rita's eyes light up when she knew that he had answered the phone.

"Really? What is she doing up so late?"

"It's storming here and she's scared," I had to explain the situation to him like always whenever I called.

"Put her on, alright?"

I handed the phone to Rita, who held it to her ear with both hands.

"Daddy?" she asked quietly and I could hear Billie on the other line.

"Rita Mae, what are you doing up so late? It's way past your bedtime!"

"I know… I can't sleep. When are you coming home?"

Even though I had already told her, she had to ask him too.

"I'll be back in seven days. That's a week, sweetheart. Are you keeping an eye on Jack like I asked you?"

Our three-year-old, Jackson Danger, was quite the little troublemaker at times.

"Yeah! But a week is too long. Come home now, Daddy!"

"I would if I could! I have to work though."

Work. What a funny joke. Playing shows and getting wasted every night in Europe hardly constitutes as 'work. Rita sighed and said ok. She was annoyed that she couldn't get him to do what she wanted like she usually could. She had Billie wrapped around her little finger most of the time.

"Hey, you be good and I'll see you in a week. I have lots of presents for you and Jack!" Billie always knew how to peak her interest.

"Ok! I love you, Daddy! Want to talk to Momma?"

"I love you too, Reet. Yeah, give mom the phone."

Rita Mae handed the phone over to me and then settled under the covers beside me, holding her horse close.

"Hi again. What are you guys up to?"

"Look, I have to go. We're going to go eat then set up for tonight."

"Oh. Okay… I'll uh, talk to you later then. Love you."

"Alright. Bye Grace."

I said goodbye then hung up, annoyed by his lack of affection. Things had been tense between us for a long time and I wasn't sure if I could take it much longer.

---

Six hours of sleep later, Jack was up and adam, ready to begin the Saturday a little later than usual. I made pancakes like I did every Saturday that Billie was away, and Rita Mae asked what we were going to do today.

"Well, we have to go to my store, then we can do whatever you two want!" I smiled, ruffling Jack's reddish-brown hair.

"I want to go to the park!" Rita told me and Jack agreed with an enthusiastic, 'yeah!' as he stuffed a pancake in his mouth.

Billie and I started up Adeline Records in '97, but we didn't oversee day to day operations so I needed something to keep myself busy while Rita Mae was at school and Jack was at daycare, and what did I do? I opened a record store in Oakland called 'RPM.' It was my safe haven; where I went after an argument with Billie.

After breakfast I got the kiddos ready then we went over to my little getaway so I could do some quick paperwork. Jack and Rita Mae knew to behave themselves whenever they came into the store and this time was no exception. They were allowed to look, but not touch. When I had finished what I needed to do, Rita informed me that it was raining.

"The park is gonna be flooded. We'll go another day, I promise," I said as I scooped Jack up into my arms.

"The park?" he asked, his eyes getting wide. Jack was practically a miniature Billie Joe. I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing though. Only time would tell, I guess. I was glad that it had started to pour; I really didn't feel up to going to the park.

"Not today, little man."

---

A week had slowly gone by and the Saturday Billie was supposed to come home, the kids and I spent the afternoon making him 'welcome home' cards. They were jittery and excited like always, but Rita Mae was especially eager.

"When Daddy comes home, we're gonna play soccer!"

She showed me her card, depicting a scene of her and Billie doing just that.

"He's probably going to be tired, but you can ask daddy when he gets here."

"Ask me what when I get I get home?" Billie's voice rang out, making me jump. How did I not hear the door?

"Daddy!" Jack and Rita both cheered and ran over to Billie, who lifted them both up in his arms.

"How are my two munchkins?" he asked after putting them down.

"I have to tell you something! I can go potty all by myself!" Jack beamed proudly as Rita grabbed her card off the kitchen table.

"That's awesome, dude!" Billie sat at the kitchen table, giving Jack a high-five.

It had been tough to toilet train Jack, but something finally clicked apparently. Rita Mae presented Billie with the card she made and I saw a smile cross his lips.

"This is great!" he told her with a grin.

"Can we play after dinner?" She practically begged, sticking out her bottom lip and batting her eyelashes.

"Tomorrow morning, alright? I want to relax tonight, ok Reet?"

"Oh-kay," she sighed as Jack gave Billie his card next and received a similar reaction.

While I made dinner Billie gave the kids the presents that he had gotten them from all across Europe. Of course, he had barely said hello to me, which really shouldn't be a surprise anymore. I remember when Billie would come home from tours and we would be inseparable… We used to just be inseparable in general.

Things were different now though. After Rita Mae, Billie had changed drastically. He cut back on drugs and we rarely had alcohol in the house. He loved being at home and spending time with me and our kids but now it seemed as if he was a carefree twenty year old again. We're 29 for God's sake. He can't keep partying like he does anymore.

Practically right after the kids were in bed, Billie told me that he was going out. I was shocked that he even told me, actually.

"Where are you going to go?" I asked casually, trying not to rub him the wrong way.

"I really don't know, Grace. We'll get there when we get there," he snapped.

"Okay. Just have fun and be careful."

"Yeah, yeah. Bye." With that, he was out the door.

I went to bed around midnight and heard Billie stumble in around four. He somehow managed to get into bed, reeking of liquor and cigarettes. I groaned and got up, heading for one of the guest rooms. I wasn't going to wake up smelling like that too.

---

Sunday morning Rita Mae was up and ready to play soccer with Billie at 8:30. Trying to stall, I made her eat breakfast before hand.

"Momma, go tell Daddy to wake up! It's sunny out!" Rita told me as she did a puzzle with Jack. She was all ready to play; she had on her sneakers, a pair of shorts and a cute shirt with a soccer ball on it.

I went upstairs and of course Billie was majorly hung over. He was sprawled out across our bed, his head tilted to the side with his mouth wide open.

"I can't believe you," I said so he heard me, then I went back down the stairs to Jack and Rita.

"Sweetie, Dad's not feeling good. You two can play another time. Why don't you go outside and practice?"

Rita didn't like this and began to throw a tantrum, seething about how he promised and that it wasn't fair.

"Rita Mae Armstrong, you need to calm down right now!" I led her up to her room for a time out, then called my father to see if he wanted to spend the afternoon with them so I could deal with Billie Joe.

When Rita calmed down, I took them over to their grandfather's and returned home.

Billie was up and about, in the kitchen swallowing some aspirin and rubbing his temples. He looked like he had a pretty rough night. Noticing the incredulous look I was giving him, he spoke.

"What?"

"You are something else." I shook my head, sitting on the island counter.

"Where are the kids?"

"My dad's. Rita Mae was not happy earlier. You broke your promise to her."

"I'm awake now… It's not like we can't go outside and play soccer right now."

"You're hung over, Billie Joe. They don't need to see you like this," I told him as if I was stating the obvious.

"Calm down. I went and had a few drinks last night. I'm not hung over," he shot back.

"You came home and barely got into bed at like four in the morning. You were wasted. What if Jack or Rita Mae had seen you?"

"I don't get why this is such a huge deal? They didn't see me. No harm, no foul."

"Really? If you're going to be a drunk, I don't want you around the kids." I watched Billie's expression go from angry to horrified.

"You can't do that…"

Even though he wasn't affectionate towards me, he loved our children more than his own life.

"Yes, I can. I don't know what's been going on with you lately because you don't talk to me unless you have to." I was ready to deal with this right here, right now.

"I can't do this right now. I have a massive headache," he shot me down.

"Whatever, Billie Joe. It's not my fault that your band's records aren't selling or that you guys aren't as popular as you were a few years ago. You can't keep taking it out on me." I tried to get through to him, but it obviously wasn't working.

Billie simply gave me a look, grabbed a beer that was hidden in the back of the fridge and went down to the basement, leaving me in the kitchen more annoyed than ever.