The Waiting UnKnown, chapter 5
Arriving home from Billie's that night, Tre immediately went to Frankito's room. Despite his reputation for being a little wild, and always fun, breaking through that, at his core, he was still Frank Wright. And watching his young son sleep, brought that out. Maybe it was the alcohol talking but he felt all of a sudden like he was about to cry. He let a few tears slide down his cheeks, then manfully wiped them away.
He couldn't even begin to imagine what Billie Joe was going through. Though Jakob seemed to be getting better, and Adrienne had told him that very afternoon that doctors were seeing good things, he still could see how frail the boy was.
Touching his son's soft skin and running his fingers through his hair, the drummer couldn't help it. Tre Cool broke down in silent tears. He loved this little boy so much. And Ramona. His little girl who he didn't see enough of. He couldn't even begin to fathom.
"Daddy?"a little voice broke the silence.
"Frankito. Little man. Go back to bed," Tre whispered softly, smiling through his tears, as he bent down to kiss his little boy. He knelt at his sons bedside, and held the little boy's hand until Frankito feel asleep.
He was almost tempted to call up Lisea and talk to Ramona, but he knew it was late. He'd stayed well after Janine, Bonnie and Tara had left, and they'd only left because Tara was falling asleep, at like quarter to 12.
Those women intrigued Tre .They were fascinating. And strong. And committed to each other and that little girl. Fighting a third round of the same disease. And here he was, crying at just the thought of going through that once. Three times? Incredable.
He looked again at his son, whispered "'Night, little man. I love you." which was answered by a faint grunt of recognition from beneath the covers, as he slipped from the room, shutting the doors.
He went downstairs, and for the first time in a long time, he found himself looking through the bookshelfs. Top shelf. Four thick leather bound books, his photo albums. There was one for the band, one for his childhood, one for Lisea and Ramona, and one for Claudia and Frankito. He pulled them all down, turned the TV on, not paying attention to what was on, and began to reflect on who he was, at the end of the day, when the fans weren't calling his name every two seconds, the press wasn't hounding him, when he got a little breathing room.
He got up and found a beer, and began to pour through the books, allowing his mind to wander. He didn't notice when a few tears began to roll down his cheeks, especially as he looked through the book dedicated Lisea and Ramona. He had missed so much of his children's life, both of them, being on tour and such, but Ramona, he had missed the most.
This was all so out of his normal charecter, that needless to say, Claudia was a little surprised when she found the father of her child crying into his beer, South Park on the TV, the sound muted.
"Frank?What's wrong?", she asked, slightly alarmed.
"Huh?" the drummer looked up.
"What's wrong? You're crying into your beer and last I checked, South Park isn't normally sad." Claudia turned off the TV, and went to her ex-husband.
"Oh, nothing. I'm just thinking. Looking at pictures of all I miss being on tour."
"Something else is on your mind, Frank. We may not be married any more, but I was once your wife, and I learned to spot lying a mile a way." Claudia pulled her robe tighter around her, it was always so cold in that house.
"Just, I finally understand why Billie cancelled part of our tour days, with Jakob being so sick. I couldn't imagine being on the road, worried about my son, when I miss so much of his life as it is. And, I was just feeling reminiscent. I needed to take a chance to be Frank Wright for a few seconds. Sometimes, Claud, I forget who that is." Frank said, as he closed the photo album, wiped his eyes, swallowed the last of his beer, and went to go practice on his drums, his first love.
He couldn't even begin to imagine what Billie Joe was going through. Though Jakob seemed to be getting better, and Adrienne had told him that very afternoon that doctors were seeing good things, he still could see how frail the boy was.
Touching his son's soft skin and running his fingers through his hair, the drummer couldn't help it. Tre Cool broke down in silent tears. He loved this little boy so much. And Ramona. His little girl who he didn't see enough of. He couldn't even begin to fathom.
"Daddy?"a little voice broke the silence.
"Frankito. Little man. Go back to bed," Tre whispered softly, smiling through his tears, as he bent down to kiss his little boy. He knelt at his sons bedside, and held the little boy's hand until Frankito feel asleep.
He was almost tempted to call up Lisea and talk to Ramona, but he knew it was late. He'd stayed well after Janine, Bonnie and Tara had left, and they'd only left because Tara was falling asleep, at like quarter to 12.
Those women intrigued Tre .They were fascinating. And strong. And committed to each other and that little girl. Fighting a third round of the same disease. And here he was, crying at just the thought of going through that once. Three times? Incredable.
He looked again at his son, whispered "'Night, little man. I love you." which was answered by a faint grunt of recognition from beneath the covers, as he slipped from the room, shutting the doors.
He went downstairs, and for the first time in a long time, he found himself looking through the bookshelfs. Top shelf. Four thick leather bound books, his photo albums. There was one for the band, one for his childhood, one for Lisea and Ramona, and one for Claudia and Frankito. He pulled them all down, turned the TV on, not paying attention to what was on, and began to reflect on who he was, at the end of the day, when the fans weren't calling his name every two seconds, the press wasn't hounding him, when he got a little breathing room.
He got up and found a beer, and began to pour through the books, allowing his mind to wander. He didn't notice when a few tears began to roll down his cheeks, especially as he looked through the book dedicated Lisea and Ramona. He had missed so much of his children's life, both of them, being on tour and such, but Ramona, he had missed the most.
This was all so out of his normal charecter, that needless to say, Claudia was a little surprised when she found the father of her child crying into his beer, South Park on the TV, the sound muted.
"Frank?What's wrong?", she asked, slightly alarmed.
"Huh?" the drummer looked up.
"What's wrong? You're crying into your beer and last I checked, South Park isn't normally sad." Claudia turned off the TV, and went to her ex-husband.
"Oh, nothing. I'm just thinking. Looking at pictures of all I miss being on tour."
"Something else is on your mind, Frank. We may not be married any more, but I was once your wife, and I learned to spot lying a mile a way." Claudia pulled her robe tighter around her, it was always so cold in that house.
"Just, I finally understand why Billie cancelled part of our tour days, with Jakob being so sick. I couldn't imagine being on the road, worried about my son, when I miss so much of his life as it is. And, I was just feeling reminiscent. I needed to take a chance to be Frank Wright for a few seconds. Sometimes, Claud, I forget who that is." Frank said, as he closed the photo album, wiped his eyes, swallowed the last of his beer, and went to go practice on his drums, his first love.
