That Blue Gibson: Another Round

twenty

"What? No! Let me talk to her! ...Taylor! Taylor!"

The disconnect chime was the only reply, sending a bolt of fury through his chest. He wound his arm back to launch his phone across the metal and concrete warehouse only to feel a large hand fall on his wrist. 

"Don't," Josh warned as gently as he could. "She's gonna call eventually and you can't fucking talk to her on smashed pieces of plastic."

He was right, of course, and that was why Dave had called him in a panic as he left the hospital that night.

"They're sending her away without me," he gasped in a terrified string of confused words, "She said she needs time away. She's gonna-"

"Don't even say it," Josh said soothingly. "Where are you? I'm on my way."

And they had camped out at 606 ever since, jamming well into the night, every night, while sharing bourbon and memories. Then Josh had the idea to sober up just enough to head east, out into the desert where they could 'get right with the powers that be'.

Dave didn't know what those powers were, but he had some rather therapeutic ideas rolling around in his head and the desert was the perfect place for them.

Dave Catching had let them borrow the Cutlass for the occasion and once the trunk was full of the required boxes, overnight bags, a couple guitars and quality tequila, they peeled out of 606's parking lot and headed for the desert.

The ragtop was down and the radio was up, but none of it made Dave feel any better. The 210 freeway reminded him of the first day he had spent with Liz, trying to be discreet as he stared at her through the mirrors of his bike. He wondered if he had fallen in love with her that day, or if it was the night before. He was unquestionably infatuated with her from the moment she wandered through the green room doors on Paul's arm, but he couldn't quite place the moment he really fell for her.

"They're just growing pains, man."

He abandoned his thoughts and looked over at Josh as he tried to decipher his words. "What?"

"Every relationship has growing pains."

"We're married, dude."

"Yeah for what, twenty minutes now?" Josh quipped, smiling at himself in the rearview mirror. "The natural progression of things doesn't give a shit about government paperwork. Ignore all the labels and you're smack in the middle of a normal, natural rough spot."

"A normal rough spot is bitching at each other over leaving dishes in the sink. Not being asked to take time apart because I stress her out enough to induce labor."

Josh chuckled a bit at that and waited until they had passed a rather loud semi truck before replying, "You and Elizabeth are probably the least normal couple I've ever had the immense pleasure of knowing."

Catching, or Catch, along with tequila shots greeted them at the door of Rancho de la Luna. Once those glasses were emptied, they immediately refilled and when the tequila's bite finally wore off, the mezcal came out. 

The three of them wandered around the house, laughing and remembering until sun was just starting to pull itself out of high noon, allowing short shadows to cast beside the covered patio Dave and Josh eventually found themselves on.

"You get a new guitar, Dr. G?"

Dave looked up as Catch walked outside with his acoustic guitar in his hand and flinched. He tried to play it off as an itch,  but knew he had failed when Catch held the guitar a bit more protectively.