Billie Joe Armstrong is my step-father... and I hate it [EDITING]

Oh Lights, And Action

Back when dad was alive, we used to have this creepy neighbour. In the time of which I have told this tale, he was considerably younger than both my parets and Billie Joe himself. He was thirty two – exactly eight years younger than both of them. Consider this – he moved in next door when I was six and my mom was thirty. He was twenty two. His name was Josh Parker – and I guess you could say he wasn’t ugly. In fact, for someone who was a creep, he was quite good looking. But he had a strange obsession with my mother. My dad was never affected by it very much, in fact, he allowed Josh to come in and slobber over my mother sometimes. Mostly at Christmas. It amused him.

When we pulled up outside the house – me, Tord and a coming-down Billie Joe Armstrong – I recognized the familiar Ford car outside Billie’s house. I groaned softly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “No, not now, Josh...”

“Josh?” Billie said, instantly. “Who’s Josh? Why is his car outside my house?” How did he know it was Josh’s car? Because he had one of those specially designed number plates to spell out JOSH P using both numbers and letters. It was cringe worthy, in my opinion.

“Now isn’t the time for explantions – now is the time for action,” I said, gathering up my crutches and kicking the car door open, shuffling out of the car as fast as my crippled body would let me. Tord helped me into a steady posistion before I crutched my way up the lane for a second time. “JOSH!” I yelled. “Get out of Billie’s house you creep!”

We found Josh in the living room, on the phone. Mom was sitting on the sofa, staring up at us in shock. We stared back at the two of them, silently asking what was going on. “I drank,” mom said, bluntly.

“Yea, I know, but... but what’s going on...?”

“I drank. And I’m pregnant.”

There was a small silence and suddenly, there was an uproar. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but one minute it was shocked quiet and then it was shouting. I couldn’t tell who was shouting at who, but finally, Josh broke it up. “Look, she’s not bleeding!” he shouted. “It seems to be okay! I’m just calling a hospital to be sure.” He looked skeptically at Billie. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Neither are you,” Billie said, through gritted teeth. “What are you doing with my fianceé?”

“I didn’t ask him to do anything, he just did it!” my mom argued back, standing up from the couch.

“Samia needs tended to – she needs a man who is not A) dead, or B) a rapist,” Josh replied, icily. Billie raised an eyebrow, and my jaw dropped. He actually made reference to my dad. Tony Reict. “Samia is the love of my life.”

“Oh, please” mom scoffed.

“You don’t love her, you only like her because she’s the only woman who would go within a mile of you!” I snapped back at him, aggresively. “You’re a perverted creep, Josh!”

“Grace, you don’t mean that,” Josh told me, as if I had been his friend his whole life. God knows I wouldn’t touch him with a seven and a half foot pole. Not even the Grinch would go within touching distance. “You know I was always there for you and your family.”

“You give us one box of chocoaltes every Christmas – what else do you ever offer?”

“Hold up – who exactly are you?” Billie interrupted, eyeing Josh up oddly.

“Josh Parker. And I’m here to take care of Samia, because obviously, you’re not doing a very good job at it,” he said, suddenly getting very defensive. Obviously, he had read about the whole situation in a magazine somewhere and thought it was a good oppurtunity to get involved in my mother’s life again.