How We Stay Here (or Waiting)

How We Stay Here (or Waiting)
Part Eleven: Backhanded Slap

Wake up

* Mike’s POV *

Billie’s sitting at the foot of the bed when I wake up. His legs are crossed and he’s picking at holes in his jeans. He hasn’t done that in awhile. Reminds me of the car rides home last year from his therapy appointments. “I don’t like this game.” he says after the bed creaks from me sitting up.

“Wh—“ My voice is raspy from hours of not using it. I clear my throat and start again. “What game? Candyland?” It’s a stab at humor. Billie doesn’t like it.

He whips his head around and looks at me. There are tear tracks down his cheeks. I don’t know if he doesn’t realize or if he doesn’t care. “You know, if it were just us it would be fine. We could fuck and ignore everything that’s going on and pretend to be happy. But it’s not. And it’s not fair to fake it when the boys are right fucking there, Mike.” His shoulders slump, his head rolls forward so he’s staring at the sheets on the bed, tears start to roll down his cheeks.

My mind’s blank. I’ve got nothing to say and he knows it. He’s right. It isn’t fair to fake it with the boys. Half of me just wants to up and forget that he ever had sex with Adrienne, but the other half of me wants to make Billie suffer for what he did. And I hate myself for that. I’ve never wanted to hurt Billie before in my life. I’ve always tried to protect him from people who do that, but how can I protect him from myself?

I hear him take a shaky breath. “What I did . . .” He hesitates, then presses on. “What I did with Adrienne, it was wrong. I know that, she knows it. If I could take it back, Mike, I would in a second. It’s one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.” He looks at me then, green eyes shining. “But I can’t take it back.”

“No.” I agree softly.

“And I know . . .” He gulps nervously. “All that shit I was saying yesterday about it being the same as you fucking her . . . I know that’s bullshit, Mike. It’s different and I know that. And . . . it’s fucked up the way I’ve been with her, like before the sex I mean. You were right. If it had been that way with you and Ana . . . it wasn’t right.”

He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Most of this shit that’s pulling us apart right now, it’s me. My mistakes and ignoring everything and just being plain fucking stupid. I meant what I said that day, about love being hard. Love is hard, but I’m making it harder. And for me to act like it was all you . . . it was chickenshit and selfish and I’m sorry. It doesn’t mean a damn thing, Mike, but I am. I’m sorry.”

“Billie . . .” My voice catches in my throat. I don’t know what I’m going to say. What is there to say after something like that? ‘It’s okay, don’t sweat it.’ “Billie, I love you.”

“It was never about love.” he says to the wall behind me. “Never. We’ve been in love since we were teenagers, Mike. The love’s always been there. But us? Me, you, this? Does it even make sense to you anymore? I mean, how the hell did we get here, Mike? How did we get to this point? Married, kids, band being big as hell, divorce, cheating, fucking when we should be talking . . .” He rakes a hand through his hair. "I mean, we were kids, Mike. Fucking kids, screwing around in your basement. How’d we make it here from that?”

I don’t really understand what he’s saying. First he’s talking about how it might end and then he wants to know how we got here? Is there even an answer for something like that? We loved each other, still love each other. That’s all the reason there is. I mean . . .

* Billie’s POV *

“. . . how the hell do you explain love?”

I stare at him for a moment. His eyes widen and then close, as if he didn’t want to say that. I don’t understand, but that’s not important right now. “Mike?”

His blue eyes open slowly and focus on me. “We got here because we love each other, Billie.” He says it quietly, but when I reach out my hand for his, he pulls away. “There’s no reason. Just us.”

“So that’s the reason we’re falling apart them?”

Mike shrugs and I bring my hand up, maybe to push him, maybe to slap him. I’m not exactly sure. But Mike simply grabs my hand and falls backward onto the bed, pulling me with him. His other hand threads through my hair. The kiss is hot, like the hood of a car that’s been sitting in the sun all day.

“Mike . . .” My head shakes and I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let go. “Mike, no. We can’t.” He starts kissing my neck, ignoring me. “We need to talk about this.”

“I love you, Billie Joe.” he whispers against my skin, hands moving under my shirt.

“But are you leaving me?!” It bursts out of me and my head falls against Mike’s shoulder. I’m so sure he’s going to say those three words again. Say them, kiss me, and go. I’m not expecting the hand in my hair to loosen, the hand under my shirt to slip out and wrap around me tightly. “M-Mike?”

He kisses my temple roughly. “Billie . . . it’s hard. It’s so fucking hard, baby.” I can hear his voice straining. “But . . . I can’t stop loving you.”

* Mike’s POV *

Billie moves so he’s sort of on his side a bit. Those green eyes of his can kill you in seconds and they’re staring straight at me. “So what are—“

It’s his damn cell phone that stops him speaking. For a moment I’m annoyed when he answers it, damn quick, too. But that ringtone . . .

Jakob.

“A-Adrienne?” Billie’s got a finger in the ear that doesn’t have the receiver next to it. “Adrienne, slow down. I can’t understand you. Adie, please. Adie!”

He’s quiet for a moment and then he pales. I watch the phone fall from his hand and grab it, so terrified the fact that I’m talking to her doesn’t even matter. “Adrienne, what the fuck is going on?”

She hiccups. “Mike . . . i-it’s Joey. J-Jakob said th-they were w-w-waiting and . . .” She bursts into loud sobs. “W-We’re at V-Vincent’s Memorial. A-And . . . I . . .” Her voice cracks and I can hear Jakob’s voice.

“Mommy, when’s—“

“We’ll be there, Adrienne.” I tell her, shutting the phone. Billie still hasn’t moved. I set my jaw and stand up, grabbing his arm and pulling him up with me. I lead him to our room like he’s five, hand him a pair of shoes, and quickly pull on some clothes. I sleep into a beat-up pair of sneakers and look at him. His shoes are on. They’re on the wrong feet and the laces aren’t tied, but it’s good enough for us.

I grab his hand and pull him down the stairs with me. “Come on, Billie. Let’s go. It’s going to be fine.” I help him into the car, help him fasten his seatbelt . . .

* Billie’s POV *

I stare straight ahead, counting Mike’s breaths. One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . .

The engine starts and we pull out of the driveway in an instant. I give him a quick look. Face set, eyes a bit darker than normal, biting his bottom lip. I wonder how long it’s going to take him to break this time. Mike’s always so fucking calm when something bad happens.

Then in a few hours, minutes, a day or so . . . he loses it. Crying, screaming, whatever. I just hope it doesn’t happen while we’re driving. One car wreck today is too many.

* * *

“J-Joseph Armstrong.” I stammer to the woman behind the desk. “Car wreck?”

* Mike’s POV *

“Dad!” Jakob pulls his hand away from his mom and tears down the hallway toward us, throwing his arms around Billie. His face is dirty from too much crying. “Daddy . . .” And then he’s crying again, face buried in Billie’s shoulder.

“I-It’s going to be okay, Jake.” he says, rubbing a hand up and down his son’s back. “It’ll be fine, Jake.” Billie looks at his ex-wife. “Where is he, Adrienne?” Jakob looks up when his dad addresses his mom and holds his arms out to me.

Without hesitation I take him from Billie and try my best to calm him. It’s not that hard to calm a five-year-old whose brother’s just been in a car wreck, however.

“ICU.” Adrienne says softly, looking from Billie to me. “I-I was a little late picking them up. Jakob had Headstart today, not preschool. So h-he was at Joey’s school. Th-They were goofing off and Joey . . . h-he—“

Her voice breaks up, but Jakob tells the rest of the story to my shoulder. “Joey was walkin’ backward. Dunno why. Somethin’ Nate said, I think. A-An’ then he walked too far . . . an’ he was in the street and there was a car.”

He’s crying too hard to talk anymore, so I just stroke his hair and kiss his cheek. “It’s going to be okay, Jakob. The doctors are taking care of him. He’ll be fine.” I say softly. It’s impossible to calm him though with Adrienne crying just as hard. A crying parent does not help a kid think everything’s okay. Billie’s holding Adrienne; she’s sobbing and silent tears are streaming down his face.

And it just fucking punches me out of nowhere. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I’m standing here holding my kid, Joey’s in fucking surgery or something, Billie and Adrienne can’t hold their composure for two seconds . . .

Billie looks at me and I bite my lip and give a sort of nod.

I love him. I fucking love him.

It’s over.

* Billie’s POV *

Doctor comes out into the hallway then. I only know because Adrienne sees him, turns around, and calls him Doctor something-or-other. “He’s out of surgery.”

“And?” Adrienne asks.

“There hasn’t been any improvement in his—“

“Is he ever going to wake up?!” Adrienne screams, oblivious to everyone staring at her, me and Mike included.

“W-Wake up?” Mike asks from behind me. My hand instinctively reaches toward him for his. Adrienne turns and takes Jakob before I fall against my husband. And like that, everything is forgiven.

But I’d rather be fighting with him now than standing in this hospital, wondering what the hell is going to happen to my son.