OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

forty-one.

JULY, 1991, SPRINGFIELD, VA

"I'M GOING TO throw up," Reagan announced. She kept her hands clasped tightly on the handle of her suitcase, hoping it would steady her shaky knees. With Dave at her side, they stood outside of their airport terminal, awaiting the arrival of Virginia Grohl and her daughter, Lisa.

"You didn't throw up on the plane," Dave reasoned. He grabbed one of Reagan's hands and looped his fingers through hers, speaking genially as if he were talking to a toddler. "I don't think you'll throw up now."

"Yes, but this is the part where I actually meet your mom and sister."

Surprisingly, or at least so she thought to herself, Reagan had survived the flight from Washington to Virginia without much fuss. She had never been on a plane before, but Dave had talked her through it, insisting that the chances of them spiraling down towards their death as the plant crashed were slim to none.

He'd even given Reagan the window view of their economy seating in order to calm her down, and when the plane had hit pockets of turbulence, he'd held her hand and told her it would be alright. He'd done the whole flying ordeal before. He knew what to expect.

Throughout the nonstop, nearly six hour flight, Reagan had allowed her mind to sink into an imaginative state in which she brainstormed different scenarios of what was ahead. She tried to picture over and over again what it was going to be like, meeting Dave's family, but not one specific scheme stuck.

Dave had sensed her anxiousness and in an attempt to soothe her, he had told stories from his childhood involving his mom and sister. Reagan laughed, appeasing his funny way of rehashing all of his young adventures, but she'd remained nervous.

It would have been easier if there wasn't a certain pressure she felt bearing down on her head. Having to fly across the country to meet someone's relatives was extreme in the first place, and that alone did not take into account that Reagan had yet to meet anyone's family as their girlfriend before.

The only thing that kept her relatively cheerful was the way Kimberly had bid her goodbye earlier that day. Her mother had virtually ignored her existence as Reagan had left the house that morning with Richard, who had kindly offered to drive both her and Dave to the airport. It was better than having Kurt do it — he couldn't be relied upon to wake up that early.

Reagan had felt smug knowing that Kimberly had not gotten her way with her. For once, she'd gone against her mother's will and done what she wanted instead of abiding by someone else's rulebook. Both Dave, Kate and Chris commended her for her valiant efforts. She was finally starting to feel more grown-up than she ever had before, which she found funny since she was twenty-two and clearly an adult.

She replayed these scenes in her head as they stood within the Dulles International Airport, looking like a pair of raggedy kids in their jeans. Dave didn't let go of her hand as he craned his neck over the milling heads of people, searching for his mother.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Reagan said aloud. She had already said the same thing at least four times to him before the plane had even landed.

"It does feel kind of crazy, doesn't it?" he laughed, relaxed as ever. His hopes were so high for their trip that nothing had yet to actually bother him, not even Reagan's own anxieties. It was almost impressive just how confident he was.

"Maybe we rushed all of this," Reagan voiced, feeling a sudden ice cold fear prick through her veins.

"We didn't," Dave said firmly, adamant on keeping Reagan tranquil. "Don't overthink it. I didn't want to do this alone because I didn't want to be apart from you any more than I have to be. Think of it that way."