Sincerely, Mike

07: Feels Like Today

Today was the day.

The wait was finally over.

They were seeing Billie today if it was the last thing they did.

Their hearts heavy and each awash with different emotions, Mike, Tré, and Jason-little Spazzy in tow-had piled into Mike's old pickup truck at half past three, now having grown even antsier than before after sitting in an hour's worth of awful gridlock traffic and breathing in so much of the air of discomfort that filled the spaces between them.

Nervous about seeing Billie and frustrated with the traffic, Mike tried to distract himself by looking out the window and humming along to the Alan Jackson song playing on the stereo, but neither really proved to be of any real assistance, as they both failed to get his mind off Billie, the traffic, or the incessant complaints that Tré continued to issue from the backseat.

Noticeably ticked off and seemingly-at least to Mike- inebriated, Tré had been grumbling about how all this would do was make things worse, how this visitational escapade and all of Mike's other innumerable and back-breaking efforts were all pointless anyway, how it was all a terrible idea destined for failure, and how they should just turn around and go back home, since he had first sat down, rambling on and on about it to no one in particular. Initially, neither Mike nor Jason- who had the displeasure of being stuck next to Tré in the back seat- had paid him any mind, Mike concentrating all of his energy into not letting his nerves physically manifest themselves or get the best of him and Jason into comforting the young child asleep under a flap of his jacket; but after having heard the same negative and antagonistic slurred dialogue for an hour, the annoyance was starting to show on both of their faces.

As the traffic finally began to move just a little bit, Mike pulled away from the grip of Tré's harsh and cynical words, retreating into the depths of his mind to listen more closely to the voices of his own inner cynicism and apprehension.

This was it, he thought to himself, trying desperately to distract and talk himself out of falling prey to fear. This was finally it.

He was finally going to be able to tell Billie everything he needed to hear.

Billie was finally going to hear and (hopefully) accept an apology for everything Mike had and hadn't done.

Everything was finally on its way to being made right between the two of them.

Why, then, was he so incredibly nervous about it?

It was just Billie, after all.

His best friend of thirty-odd years.

Talking to him was easy, or at least it should have been, in theory.

Did he really have anything to worry about?

A loud voice in his head was quick to tell him that he most certainly did, the same voice that had been whispering softly into his conscience feelings of uncertainty and discomfort since he had first pulled out of his driveway.

But the more he listened to it, the more he realized that this voice he gave so much power to was not his own, and instead sounded a lot more like that of the ornery and uncharacteristically pessimistic man seated behind him.

Following that train of thought back into his present reality, he tuned his ears to listen more closely to whatever it was that Tré was babbling on about behind him, immediately disappointed and yet not at all surprised to hear that he was still bellyaching about how horrible the idea of going to visit Billie was.

A thick layer of annoyance coating his face, Mike lifted his head up to find Tré's gaze in the rear view mirror, grabbing it and holding onto it tightly.