OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

one-hundred-eight.

DECEMBER 14th, 1997, LOS ANGELES, CA

   "YOU'RE COMING HERE for Christmas, right?" Kate demanded over the phone, a threat plainly wavering in her voice. Reagan balanced the receiver between her shoulder and ear as she walked downstairs from Gracie's room, having just to put her to sleep. She was carrying an embarrassingly-full laundry basket in her hands and trying not to tumble over headfirst.

"We'll be there on the twenty-sixth," Reagan said. "Dave's mom is coming into town, remember? He's going to hang back in L.A. with her, but Gracie and I are flying up."

"Good. You need to meet Christopher." Kate was referencing her new boyfriend that she'd met in one of her classes. He was studying law as well, but Reagan could have guessed that just by the way Kate said his name. Her use of 'Christopher' rather than the more-relaxed 'Chris' had led to plenty of irresistible teasing from Reagan.

"Robbie and the twins know we're coming, right?"

"Yep. Everyone's excited. I think even Mom is looking forward to it."

"Only because of Gracie. It has nothing to do with me, of course."

"I'm not going to deny that. She still hasn't forgiven you for moving to California."

Reagan edged her way into the laundry room, setting the basket down on the dryer and scorning the thought of Kimberly's persistent habit of being unbearable. She re-positioned the phone to her other ear.

"I couldn't give a shit about Mom's attitude," she declared. "She's not going to ruin Christmas, not with Gracie there."

"Yeah?" Kate asked. "You're happy to come home?"

"Absolutely. I can't wait."

"Mhm. And has the morning sickness started yet?"

Reagan dropped the t-shirt she'd been about to lob into the washing machine in shock. It fluttered to the floor as she stood frozen, her hands still hanging in the air.

"What?" she spluttered. "How the fuck do you know?"

Kate's sudden gasp whistled directly through the receiver. "Wait, I guessed correctly?!"

"Guessed?" Reagan cried, floundering in the surprise of being called out on her pregnancy when no one was supposed to know.

"Oh my god!" Kate shrieked. "You're pregnant!"

"How did you even . . . how come you asked me that?" Reagan asked, feeling like she'd been hit in the face with a sucker punch. A million explanations filed through her brain — had Dave let it slip after, for some unexplainable reason, contacting Kate? Had she let it slip on accident in another phone call?

Was the fucking house bugged?

There had been no reason for Kate to assume, or even guess, that she was pregnant. Reagan had been waiting to tell her sister, as well as anyone else, until more time had passed, following the solicited advice of her doctor. Not since she'd been pregnant with Gracie had Kate even brought up the subject of pregnancy.

"You've been so happy," Kate babbled excitedly. "Every time I've called, you've just sounded like a completely different person. I didn't actually know if you were pregnant, I was just guessing because of the way you've been acting, but ohmygod. I was right!"

"Surprise," Reagan said weakly. She'd really wanted to tell Kate in person, but it was admittedly nice having someone other than Dave to gush over the new baby with. It was even nicer that it was Kate.

"Does his mom know?" Kate asked, launching into what was surely a never ending list of questions.

"No one does, Kate. We're waiting to tell everyone."