“Who Would've Thought Getting Knocked Down Would End So Well?”, chapter 17

Days came and passed, and I was getting discouraged. I was having trouble finding work. Companies were not calling me back for interviews, and the few interviews I'd had yielded no fruit. I was not in a good mood, and it showed. Billie Joe had convinced me to peel myself away from the computer for a few hours with the promise of dinner. He was going to cook for us at his place, and I could not wait.

"You? Cook?! We're having hotdogs and macaroni, aren't we?" I loved teasing Billie Joe, it was too easy.

He glared at me. "Hey! You've eaten my mouth watering breakfasts before." He folded his arms across his chest and pouted. "For that, I'm not even going to tell you what we're having. You'll just have to wait and see when everything is ready. Hmmph." And he turned away, pretending to be angry.

"Aww, I'm sorry baby, my mistake. We're having fish sticks, right?"

Billie Joe did not even answer me and disappeared into the kitchen. I sat on the couch, turned on the television and flipped lazily through the channels. I stopped at a channel showing music videos. "I Wanna Be Sedated" by the Ramones was playing and I got off the couch and started jumping up and down, singing along.

" . . . hurry, hurry, hurry, before I go insane . . ." I was still dancing around the living room when Billie Joe came back out. I did not notice him at first and continued singing. When I turned around, I saw him staring at me with an amused smile on his face. I stopped immediately.

"Having fun? Wow, if Green Day ever needs back up dancers, you're hired."

I blushed. I tried to think of something to say but came up short. "Oh yeah . . . well . . . nice cook outfit." Lame. Billie Joe chuckled at my failed attempt at a comeback.

"There's nothing wrong with my outfit. It's hot." He smoothed his Will Cook For Sex black apron and straightened his chef hat. He looked adorable and it took every drop of willpower I had not to jump him right then and there.

"Let's eat."

Billie Joe lead the way to the dining room and I was surprised with what I saw. The lights were dimmed and there were candles on the table. The table was set for two and beautifully decorated. There was a bottle of white wine chilling next to the table. Billie Joe opened it and poured a glass for me and then for himself. He exited the room for a few minutes and when he returned, he had shed his cooking attire and was wearing a dressy burgundy coloured shirt and black pants.

"Wow Billie Joe, I'm impressed."

Billie Joe grinned sheepishly and served me the French Onion soup he had prepared, and it was delicious. He continued to serve course after course until we finally arrived at the dessert. The entire meal looked and tasted like something you would enjoy at an expensive French restaurant. This was a side to Billie Joe I had never seen. For dessert he had prepared a chocolate souffle. As we dove into our dessert I stared at him, wondering how I had gotten so lucky.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Billie Joe was swatting his face, the same way I had done when we'd first met - when he was staring at me.

"Thank you Billie Joe. Tonight has been better than I could have ever imagined. You're an amazing cook, and this whole night has been so romantic."

He looked surprised, and pleased. "Well, you're welcome. Those cooking lessons were worth it then."

"They sure were. I didn't realize you had taken lessons." Picking up my napkin, I smiled at Billie Joe as I dabbed at the corners of my mouth.

"Yeah, well . . . " he trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed. Reaching over, Billie Joe took my hands into his. "I want you to be comfortable here, Amelia."

"I am. I love spending time with you at your house."

"Well . . ." he began slowly, ". . . how would you like to spend more time here?"

"Uh, ok. I'd love to." I wasn't sure what he was getting at so I more than likely gave him a confused look.

"Move in with me."

At first, what Billie Joe said did not register in my mind. Move in with him?! I became excited, but then another thought crossed my mind.

"Billie Joe," I started, "I don't want you to ask me to move in because I'm struggling to find a job. I don't need anyone's money or help, I'm not a charity case." I pushed my chair away from the dining room table and got up, getting ready to leave. "Thanks for dinner, but I have to go." I stormed through Billie's house, trying to get to the door as quickly as I possibly could. I was frustrated with myself, with Billie Joe. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to ever feel sorry for me. I could hear him running behind me, trying to catch up, not really sure what was wrong with me. He positioned himself in front of me, blocking the door and my escape.

"Baby, what are you doing? Why are you so angry? Don't you want to be with me?" Billie Joe looked confused and hurt. He did not understand my reaction.

I tried to calm down enough to speak, but I was tense; my body was rigid and my fists were clenched. "Billie Joe, did you ask me to move in because . . . b-because you think I'm pathetic and won't find a job? Do you think I can't take care of myself? I don't ever want to be anyone's burden, Billie Joe. And I won't ever end up the way my mom did, dependent on someone, I can do everything for myself." I broke down, tears of frustration streamed down my flushed cheeks. I looked down, allowing the tears to fall.

Billie Joe looked at me sadly, raising his hands to rest them on my arms in an attempt to calm me down. "Whoa, Amelia, what are you talking about? Of course you can take care of yourself and I know that. When I met you I could tell you were an independent woman. I've been wanting to ask you for a while now, that was the whole reason for tonight's dinner. I wanted it to be special." He was pleading with me. I was not entirely convinced.

He continued speaking when I did not. "Remember when we were at that small restaurant over a week ago and you came back from the bathroom wondering what we had been talking about?" I nodded. "Well, I was talking to the guys about it. It's a big step, I know, but I want you in my life for a very long time. And I would love nothing more than to wake up next to you every morning and have you as the last thing I see every night. Because . . . because I love you, Amelia. I've loved you for a very long time."

My eyes opened wide. For a moment I was stunned by Billie Joe's revelation. Billie Joe loves me. A smiled crept upon my lips. "I love you too." I smiled and leaned against the front door, letting down my defences. Billie Joe cupped my face in his hands, his thumb brushing away a few stray tears.

Billie Joe moved his hands from my face and wrapped his arms around my waist, leaning in to kiss me. "There's nothing I want more than to be with you and live with you." I held him tighter, my head resting on his shoulder.

"Oh, so it's not just about sex then?" I tried to make a joke through my tears, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Billie Joe smiled. "Well, it's about that too." He chuckled lightly, releasing me from our embrace so he could look at me. "Plus I love the way you get along with Joey and Jakob, they're usually hard to win over, but you've got them eating out of the palm of your hand. They really like you."

Billie Joe closed the gap between us, wrapping me in another tight hug. I hugged him back and rested my head on his shoulder.

"This has nothing to do with your job situation. If you had a job right now, I still would have asked you. I promise." I hugged him tighter. Billie Joe and I pulled apart from our hug and he stared at me expectantly.

"Well, what do you think?"

I decided that I had kept him waiting long enough. "Yes, Billie Joe, I'll move in with you, as long as it's for the right reasons. I still have to look for a job though."

"That's fine, babe."

"Well, Billie Joe, I think this is a cause for celebration."

He looked at me like I was dim witted. "Celebrate your job search?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Uh, no. Us living together."

He finally understood what I was getting at. He kissed me lightly on the lips. I grabbed his arm and lead him to the bedroom.