OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

seventy-five.

       WITH A TIMID gentleness, Reagan laid Gracie carefully into the silk lining of her bassinet. A quiet, tinkling music was playing — the sound of her crib mobile churning out a lullaby. It had taken Reagan a good twenty minutes to nurse Gracie and rock her into a solid sleep, but her baby was finally out, Gracie's pale pink eyelids closed to the world.

Reagan took a deep breath and stepped away from the bassinet. Strangely, she didn't crave those moments of solitude in which Gracie was asleep and her arms were empty of her. Soon enough she would be going back to work and leaving Gracie in the care of a stranger, something that had been a highly debated topic between her and Dave.

She didn't want a nanny. The very word made Reagan cringe and she'd shaken her head back and forth, whipping her red hair across her face when Dave had suggested it.

"What else are we going to do?" Dave had demanded impatiently. "Leave her by herself and hope she learns to feed herself early?"

Reluctantly, Reagan knew that Dave was right. They didn't know anyone who was free to watch Gracie while they were both away, Reagan at work and Dave on another tour. Kate was in school, bogged down more than ever with her increasingly difficult law studies, and none of the rest of their friends and family were available to abandon their jobs. Dave had hedged around the idea of asking Kimberly to do it with pay, but Reagan nixed that idea before it had even left his mouth.

Kimberly could barely care for the twins without help. She wasn't going to be left in charge of Gracie.

These were the times that Reagan wished Ginny lived closer, or that she and Dave lived in Virginia. Though Ginny was content being a teacher, Reagan had no doubt that as a first-time grandmother, Ginny would have dropped everything to tend to Gracie. Maybe even Lisa would have done it. It wasn't as if Reagan and Dave weren't compensating Gracie's caretaker.

Dave had won the battle, or rather Reagan conceded when she'd realized that there was no other option. With the proper connections, Dave had enlisted the help of their new nanny who would start as soon as Reagan went back to work.

It put a sour taste in Reagan's mouth to imagine a stranger cradling Gracie and feeding her bottles, but there was nothing Reagan could do. Of course Dave had hinted that she might quit her job, but Reagan was all about her steadfast beliefs, one of them being that she was capable of working and being a mom too. Sure, it wasn't like she had some spectacular career to nurse, but she wouldn't allow to Dave support her when she had two arms and two legs to keep her working.

She shuffled into the living room and spotted Dave on the couch where he was abruptly ending a phone call on the landline. His lips were soldered into a tight line as he mashed his thumb into the 'end' button, throwing the phone carelessly onto the coffee table. Reagan crossed her arms and leaned against the corner edge of the wall.

"What's wrong?" she asked upon clearing her throat.

Dave looked up and scrunched his eyebrows together. "Are those my socks?"

In response, Reagan glanced down at her feet and wiggled her toes inside the white cotton of Dave's five-sizes too big socks. They slouched at her ankles and hardly fit, but considering the rest of her outfit, it didn't matter. She was dressed down in her baggiest pair of sweatpants, another random band t-shirt and one of Dave's wash-worn flannels. Her hair was swept back into a loose ponytail and as far as she was concerned, she matched the kind of comfortability that she found within their new home.

"It's not the first time I've stolen from you," she shrugged.

Dave grumbled under his breath and leaned back into the couch, kicking up his feet and running the palms of his hands down his face. Reagan joined him in perching on the edge of the couch cushion. The television was playing, but it had been muted.