OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

fifty-two.

            FOR THE FIRST time since initially discovering that she was carrying a baby, Reagan became plagued by the onset of a vicious panic attack.

It happened as she sat alone in Dave's apartment (correction —her and Dave's apartment, now), plopped down on the couch with her legs crossed and the television on in front of her.

She'd been meticulously spooning soup into her mouth, savoring her light lunch as she watched a random reality game show when it had struck her.

She was pregnant. She was getting married.

The edges of her vision blurred, tilting back and forth as if suddenly on an axis. She carefully set her spoon down against the ceramic edge of the bowl she ate out of and found the strength to take a deep, steadying breath.

It had hit her out of nowhere. For some reason, as she sat perched on the couch that afternoon watching television like a grandmother, she was overwhelmed by her own life. It had seemed so easy so far that week. Living with Dave had gone seamlessly along with everything else they'd gotten up to. They'd even managed to register for a marriage license without resulting in her going to pieces.

Reagan swallowed, surprised to feel the dryness in her throat after she'd been sucking down chicken noodle soup like a fiend. That reminded her — she needed to go grocery shopping before Dave left. How was it that she could be whipped up in the midst of a panic attack and still have time to ponder mundane things like stocking a pantry?

She guessed that she shouldn't have been so mortified to succumb to another freak out. Her life, after all, had veered off course like a race car speeding out of control. And then there was the looming dread she felt of knowing that soon enough, she'd be saying goodbye to Dave.

Slowly, Reagan lowered her face into her hands. She massaged her temples with her fingertips, hoping the action of doing so would ease her back into a state of calm. It would have been easier if Dave was there. He had driven to Olympia for the day, hoping to rehearse a little with the band and keep Kurt company for a few hours.

She had busied herself at first in the wake of his absence. After scarfing down a Cheerio breakfast, she had contacted Kate and asked for her first big favor, which was for help in buying Dave's wedding band. Reagan was not opposed to the act of doing so, but the mushy, gushy implications of the entire thing set her teeth on edge. Therefore, she relied on Kate to be her source of comfort.

They'd gone straight to Olympia in search of a jeweler who had been a friend of their family for years. Since he knew the Abners, he was able to give Reagan a good deal on a shiny, grey steel band that she imagined would suit Dave best. After turning over more of the little money that she had left, she'd walked out ready to bestow the ring upon Dave within the coming days.

The reminder of the ring caused Reagan to flicker her eyes away from her soup and towards the surface of the coffee table. Sitting there was the very ring she'd bought earlier in the day. Carefully, she plucked it between her fingertips before slipping it on over pointer finger. It was big, big enough to fit Dave's finger of course, and it rode loose past her knuckle.

It was killing her. She was being torn in two ways, each side vying for victory as they tugged on either half of her heart. She wanted to be happy. So badly did she want to rejoice in the luck she had found. But she was scared. For once she did not feel like the responsible adult she'd groomed herself to be. She felt like a kid who was too absorbed in the imaginary play world she'd created in her own head.

She slipped Dave's ring off, turning it over in her hand. Her heart was starting to hammer a little harder the longer she stared at it. The baby, she presumed, was a reasonable thing for her to freak out over. She had accepted that she was bound to be a mother, but she guessed that she still had the unspoken right to fret over that lingering fact. Any rational woman who had never been pregnant before was owed the right of that length of time given in order to panic.