How We Stay Here (or Waiting)

How We Stay Here (or Waiting)
Part One: Stop Yelling

I¹m destined
For anything...at all

Billie stayed in bed for an hour or so. When he came out he looked like he had a hangover from hell, but he was smiling. "I can't wait for Adie to have the God damn baby." he said, leaning against my shoulder. I put my arm around his shoulders.

"Hey!" Jakob turned arund from the video game console he had been attached to for the last two hours. "That's my brother or sister!"

Billie gave a weak smile. "All right. I can't wait for you mom to have the baby." Jakob just stuck his tongu eout and turned back to his game. Billie sighed, staring at me with those tired green eyes. "Joey in his room?"

I nodded, planting a kiss to his forehead. "Yeah. Hasn't come out since we got back."

Billie nodded, standing up straight and running a hand through his hair before climbing up the stairs.

* Billie's POV*

I knocked on Joey's door, coughing. I was so sure if this had to do with the baby anymore.

"Who is it?"

"Dad."

There was a pause. "All right."

I pushed open his door to reveal a disaster site. I've never really made my kids clean their rooms--their space--but damn this was pushing it. he gave me a smile that said he knew exactly what I was thinking.

I leaned against his dresser and crossed my arms. It didn't matter if there was toxic waste dumped on it; I couldn't possibly get any worse. "Let's talk about today." I said.

"What about it?" Joey asked, leaning against the wall opposite me and crossing his own arms.

I wanted to smile, but I couldn't. "Language." I told him. "Your language, Joey. You can't talk like that. You're ten for Christ's sake."

"So you can cuss at me, but I can't cuss at all?" he demanded.

"I was swearing at you." I said, coughing again. "I was swearing at the situation."

"So you're telling me you never cussed at all when you were my age?" Joey shot back.

I wiped at my suddenly streaming eyes with the back of my hand. It was so fucking hot. "I did a lot of shit that I don't want you to do no matter how old you are." I said. "You know that."

"Whatever." Joey said. "You can't boss me when I'm at school, anyway."

"Do you wanna--" Oh, shit.

I was still leaning over the toilet bowl, tasting my lunch again, when I heard Mike set down the glass of water. I felt his hands sweep my hair out of my face.

This time I threw the glass into the bathtub on purpose, just out of sheer spite. "I don't think this has to do with Adie anymore." I said.

"I think you've got the flu." Mike said, nodding. He put his arms around my shoulders, half rocking me as if I were a kid. "We should probably get you a shower." He made a face. "And clean this one before one of your kids comes running in to show us how cool the blood is."

I laughed as he helped me up and down the hall into our room. "I love you, Mike."

"I know, Billie Joe. I love you, too."

* Mike's POV*

My eyes scan the room for wherever the hell Billie Joe's 'Milkshake' ringtone is coming from. Snatching it off of the trashcan -- don't fucking ask -- I flip it open. "Hello?"

"Mike? It's Adrienne."

As if I could forget? You married my husband, gave birth to his kids, made him puke for three months straight, and say 'I love you' to him everytime you hang up the phone.

"Hey, Adie. He's upstairs. Collapsed. I think it's the flu."

I hear her sigh. "It sucked enough when we were married, I didn't think it could happen this time. I'm really sorry about this, Mike."

She sounds sorry. And she is. Because it's Adie. "It's not your fault. You know that." I walk over to the fridge and open it, pulling out a beer.

"Yeah." she says softly. "Well, I was just calling about when I'd pick the boys up. Does Friday next week work? I know it's awhile, but--"

I can't help but smile. "Adrienne, calm down. Don't worry about it. It's fine."

"Thank God for you, Mike. I know it's late there and they're already in bed, but tell them I love them and miss them? I'll call tomorrow."

I turn his phone off after I hang up, shaking my head. I don't want to think these things about them. It's just hard not to. They had the happiest fucking marriage since the last Disney movie.

I walked up the stairs, just standing in our doorway for awhile and watching Billie Joe, moving every so often to take or drink or keep my arm from falling asleep. After I finished my beer I walked back downstairs.

* Billie's POV*

I woke up yawning. It wasn't even midnight yet, but the house was dark. I pulled on the first shirt I tripped over, stumbling down the stairs. Mike was leaning his forehead against the sink window, empty beer bottle in his hand. I could see his closed eyes in the window reflection. "Mike?"

His eyes flew open and he turned around to look at me, setting his bottle on the counter. "Hey." He smiled, but I could tell he didn't really want to. "You're up. Feeling any better?"

"A little." My fingers ran over the kitchen wallpaper. "Mike--"

"Adrienne called." he said, interrupting me a little too happily. "She said she'll be back on Friday to get the boys."

I nod, barely hearing his words. "Mike--"

"If you're not feeling better tomorrow we should cancel that interview. They'll take a raincheck." He crosses the room to put his hand on my forehead. "You're still--"

"Mike!" I push him away. "What the hell is going on?"

"What are you talking about?" He keeps talking without letting me answer. "You're still sick, babe. You shouldn't be--"

"You're not telling me something." I said, stomping my foot. It made me look five, but it was one of the only ways I could get Mike's attention when he was like this. And that was a lot lately.

"That's stupid." Mike said. "It's late, Billie. Let's go upstairs." He reached out for my hand, but I pulled it away.

"No." I snap. "I'm not going to sleep with someone who keeps lying to me. You've been doing this for the past two months, Mike. Just tell me what's wrong." My yells have almost turned into tears by this point.

"Billie, this is stupid. Stop yelling before you wake your kids up." he says, reaching out for my hand again.

"Then stop lying."

"Don't be such a--"

"Dad?" Jakob's standing at the foot of the stairs, chocolate brown eyes wide.

I glare at him before walking over to Jakob and scooping him up. "Come on, kid. Let's get you back in bed."

"Are you and Mike going to get divorced, too?" he asks after we're upstairs.

"Of course not." I tell him, kissing his forehead. "Mike and I are just having a fight. Grown-ups fight sometimes, too."

"But you and Mom fought and then you got divorced." Jakob said.

I sigh and open the door to his room, setting him down on the bed. "Come on. Under the covers." He lets me tuck him in before I sit down on the edge of his bed. "Your mom and I didn't get divorced just because we fought." I finally say. "There were other things, too. Mike and I don't have those other things." Yet.

"What if you get them?"

I take a deep breath and shrug. What the fuck are you supposed to say to a question like that. "Well, if that happens--and it won't--we'll worry about it then, okay?"

I move to stand up, but Jakob's sitting up again. "But . . . But you and Mom said that once and then you got a divorce anyway."

Jesus Christ. These questions don't have answers! Not the kind you can tell a five year old, at least. "The way I love your mom is different than the way I love Mike."

"Do you still love Mom?"

I give a sigh that's half exhaustion, half defeat. "I love your mom like a friend now. I don't love her like I did once. And your mom doesn't love me that way anymore. I love Mike like that."

"But what if you don't love Mike like you used to love Mom? What if you only love him in the friend way, too?"

I try to force the tears out of my eyes. "It's too late, kiddo. We'll talk about this tomorrow. Get some sleep." I give him a quick kiss before I walk into the hallway and into the bathroom, locking the door.

---TBC---

Hope it suffices.