OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

seventy-six.

JULY 2nd, 1992, SEATTLE WA

"SARAH?" REAGAN CALLED out as she walked through the front door of her house. She struggled to get the keys out of the sticky lock, hanging halfway outside and into the entrance of the living room.

It took a moment, but the nanny appeared down the hallway with Gracie facing forward in her arms. A smile broke out upon Reagan's face as she shut the door and kicked off her shoes.

"Mommy's home," Sarah cooed, bouncing Gracie lightly.

Gracie's little face scrunched with knowing excitement and she flashed a gummy smile in Reagan's direction, kicking her legs up and down. Reagan couldn't help but to laugh. She hurried over to Sarah and took Gracie gladly into her arms, holding her in the air and peppering her face with kisses.

"Did you miss me?" she murmured against the soft skin of Gracie's cheek.

"Oh, she did," Sarah announced. She planted her hands on her hips and grinned. "I swear, she's so smart for not even being four months yet. It's like she knew you were missing when you left this morning."

Reagan smiled gratefully at Sarah. The nanny, it turned out, wasn't so bad. Sarah was only three years older than Reagan at twenty-six and had nannied for two families before settling with the Grohls. Two other families who'd been headed by a rockstar for a father, that is. Dave's questioning of his friends at DGC had paid off when they'd suggested Sarah for the position. She was young and adept with babies and also terribly kind. Throughout the two weeks that Sarah had been there, Reagan had actually grown to rather like her.

"I'm home now," Reagan assured Gracie. "I'm not going anywhere."

Sarah dutifully began pacing around the living room, picking up baby toys and gathering empty milk bottles. Reagan almost told her not to worry about it, but she was too consumed in holding Gracie to put her down and do the cleaning up herself.

"Gracie had a big day," Sarah said over her shoulder. "She's starting to get the hang of rolling over. We're not quite there yet, but almost."

Reagan put on a mask of exaggerated excitement and lifted Gracie into the air once more. "You almost rolled over? My big girl!"

"Your mom also called," Sarah added. "She wanted to know when it would be a good time to swing by and visit."

"She knows I was at work," Reagan said cryptically. Since when had Kimberly become so damn needy?

"You know how grandmas are," Sarah laughed.

And you don't know how that grandma is, Reagan thought to herself.

"Want me to take her while you change?" Sarah asked, helpfully holding out her arms.

"I probably should," Reagan said. She passed Gracie over and shrugged out of the loose cardigan that she'd buttoned up over her chest all day. With a grimace, she opened it and revealed two wet stains on her chest.

Sarah clapped a free hand over her mouth. "Oh no. When did that happen?"

"Not too long ago," Reagan muttered in embarrassment. She closed her cardigan back up. "I forgot that they don't just stop producing milk when Gracie isn't around."

For once in those past two weeks, Reagan was actually glad that Dave wasn't there. If he'd seen the state of her shirt, he would have died laughing and Reagan didn't think she would have been able to stand it. Her body was doing weird things, things she wasn't used to, and she didn't need reminding of how ridiculous they were.

"How was work?" Sarah called out conversationally as Reagan disappeared down the hall and slipped into her and Dave's room.

"Boring," Reagan called back, yanking her clothes off. "All I did was answer phone calls today."