OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

sixty-two.

DECEMBER 23rd, 1991, SPRINGFIELD VA

          IT TURNED OUT that spending the Christmas holiday in Virginia was an even happier plan than Reagan had expected. She'd initially bargained on feeling probable guilt over not being with her family, especially after they'd somewhat made peace with each other, but being with Dave's mom did wonders for that irritating guilt.

From the moment Reagan and Dave had set foot on Virginian soil, they'd been religiously waited on by a gushing Ginny. Upon picking them both up from the airport, Dave's mom had gotten teary-eyed, hugging Reagan first before Dave as they'd exited their terminal.

"I'm standing right here," Dave had said, aghast as he watched his petite mother, the same woman who had never denied him a second of her attention, cradle Reagan.

"A baby girl," she had enthused, her eyes watering over. "Oh, Reagan!"

Lisa had shared a similar reaction once the homecoming caravan arrived back at Ginny's house. Charging out the front door in blue jeans and a bandana over her dark hair, Lisa had sidestepped Dave and gone straight for Reagan, just as Ginny had.

"Thank GOD you're giving me a niece!" Lisa had cried, nearly toppling Reagan over. Reagan laughed, clutching her sister-in-law's arm and steadying herself.

"Lees, careful," Dave had interjected, his eyes darting worriedly towards Reagan.

"Oh stop, she's not a porcelain doll David," Lisa scoffed.

"She's carrying precious cargo. She might as well be suited up with duct tape and labeled as 'fragile'," Dave had insisted back.

"I am not fragile," Reagan retorted, cinching her eyebrows together.

"There's my girl," Dave laughed, never unable to simper over Reagan's fiery streak.

And so had begun their memorable second stay with Ginny in North Springfield. They were able to do more than the last time they'd visited, especially in light of all the Christmas festivities going on around town. Reagan had nearly seen enough Christmas light-adorned houses to be blinded just by the sight of any twinkling bulbs.

Lisa had taken it upon herself to lead Reagan around every spot in Springfield where a young Dave had once dwelled. With every new location, Lisa never failed to mention that Dave had once smoked pot there. Dave was quick to correct her on whether or not her facts were accurate.

"You definitely snuck out once to smoke in this park, Dave."

"No, I did not. That was at the skate park."

Reagan had dutifully played third wheel to their spirited bantering, giggling at the natural sibling-like chemistry between them. Evenings spent at Ginny's dinner table were even more of a laugh — Dave's mother had a sweet, silly sense of humor that flourished in the presence of her two kids. On more than one occasion, Reagan had almost snorted sips of water out of her nose while listening to the three of them rib each other.

Over a meal of spaghetti, (Ginny had become acutely aware of just how much her daughter-in-law enjoyed her recipe) conversational talk of baby names came arose.

"Tell us what you've thought up," Lisa had said eagerly, sitting perched across the table from Reagan. "I'm dying to know."

"Maybe they want to keep it a secret," Ginny had offered. She'd given Reagan an understanding smile, her intuition already onto the fact that the two new parents had not brought up any potential names.

"It's not really a secret," Reagan had said, exchanging a look with Dave before shyly twirling more spaghetti around the prongs of her fork.

"Yeah, we don't mind telling," Dave added, cracking one of his usual big smiles. He'd turned to Reagan, nodding at her. "You can do the honors."