OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

eighty.

KATE WAS EITHER a gifted telepathist or just a spectacular sister, Reagan decided. As she, Kate and Dave had all returned to their hotel room that night with Gracie being interchangeably held between them, Kate offered to keep Gracie for the night in her room.

"It's no problem," she'd said happily. "We can set that little pop-up crib Mom and Dad got you by the bed and she can stay with me. Do you have some of her things already packed? Diapers and stuff? Ooh, and what about that butt cream, she's so prone to rashes!"

At this comment, Reagan had closed her eyes in order to stay calm. She wasn't sure what was worse — Kate obviously knowing that she and Dave were in desperate need of alone time to engage in certain activities, or the fact that her sister had just used the phrase 'butt cream' in such a casual manner.

Her new life could not get anymore weirder. At least not when things like that were being said, as if they were a totally normal thing in her life, as if Reagan still wasn't just a twenty-three year old woman with plenty of growing up left to do. Nowadays she had to worry about issues like Gracie's diaper rash, rather than what band she was going to see next in another tightly-packed Olympia club.

"Yes," she'd said tersely. "I have some set aside."

Once Gracie was safely set up in Kate's room and Reagan had torn herself away from her baby after much fretting, she returned to her own room with Dave. When they walked in side-by-side, she couldn't help but to sigh.

"What is it?" Dave said, looking back at her as he crossed the threshold into the room readily.

"Nothing. I just feel like a thirty year old, that's all."

"A thirty year old? Why?"

She gestured around the room. A slew of Gracie's toys were lying scattered about, as well as a few spare baby-things that hadn't been transferred over to Kate for the night.

"We're living in an infant wonderland," Reagan said.

"So?" Dave shrugged. He kicked a shaker rattle out of the way with the toe of his sneaker. "That's all part of having a baby."

"Yeah, along with the part of needing a sitter if we want to have any alone time."

"I thought you liked being a mom."

She didn't like the way he said it. There was a note of worry in the question, a flicker of doubt. As if it were possible that she would ever actually dislike the existence of her own daughter.

"I do," Reagan said, sighing softly as she sat down on the edge of their king-sized bed. "It's just a little crazy at times. Like Twilight Zone-type crazy. I'm not that much older than Kate and look at the differences between us. I'm a mother and she's in school, going to parties and trying to become a lawyer."

Dave knitted his eyebrows together. "So . . . are you trying to say that you wish you hadn't missed out on keg parties and law school?"

Reagan shuddered in spite of herself. "God, no. I never wanted any of that. All I'm saying is that I feel like an imposter sometimes. Like a kid trying to play the role of a parent."

"You're a great mom, Reagan." Dave sat down next to her and folded her hand into his. His touch was warm and comforting, giving her all the necessary reassurance that he was right. It was annoying, the way he tended to be right about a lot of things. It was still hard to grasp the truth of it all, though.

"I've had six months to adjust and I still can't believe it sometimes. I look around and see diapers and bottles and my boobs were leaking milk every day. I go to work and when I'm there, all I think about is Gracie. But then when I'm home, I think about how young we are. How different everyone's lives are around us."