That Blue Gibson: Another Round

thirty-five

Liz had just pulled the last hairpin from between her teeth to set a curl behind her ear when her phone began to play Dave's version of "Over the Hills and Far Away". She smiled, remembering how he'd recorded it for her late one night in Ireland when neither of them could sleep and checked the antique clock on the dresser beside her before answering.

"Hey! You almost here?"

"Hey," his deep sigh sent her heart plummeting, "I'm so sorry, baby."

Clearing her throat of the lump that was beginning to form, she shook away the oncoming tears. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he insisted. "Everything's fine. I'm just... they want me to stay for this dinner and I can't-"

"It's okay," she said quickly, internally trying to convince herself it really was okay, "I totally get it. Is the food good at least?"

His chuckle warmed her a bit, knowing he probably felt terrible about missing her birthday dinner. "No. Some sort of bird. I think it's a quail or a partridge. All bone, no meat."

"Hmmm... sounds like your wife."

"Kinda!" his laugh was genuine but faded quickly. "I'm really sorry, baby. I'm so fucking terrible at birthdays."

"Um...," she glanced up at the huge bouquet of English roses he'd given her at breakfast and smiled. "Yeah. But honestly, David, it's nice to know you suck at something."

He huffed a short laugh and murmured, "I feel really bad, Liz."

"Don't. I'll just catch you after dinner. Maybe we all can get a drink or something."

"Yeah, of course. I'll see you tonight, okay? Have fun with Paul."

"I will. Text me if you can."

"Absolutely. I love you."

Pulling the phone from her cheek, she stared down at it a moment and let out a shuddering sigh. He was terrible at birthdays, but she was 35 years old and her husband was one of the busiest people in the music industry, so what the hell did she expect? She swiped to end the call and turned back to the mirror to finish getting ready.

*

Dave kept the phone pressed to his ear, unable to break the connection from her so soon and heard her dejected sigh.

"Fuck," he groaned feeling physically ill.

"Disco?"

He tossed his phone onto the table in front of him and raked his hair off his face to look up at Taylor, "Holy shit that hurt."

Taylor frowned through his mouthful of pizza, "Bad?"

"Pretty sure I just ripped her heart out and drop kicked it across the continent."

His drummer's heavy hand landed on his shoulder and gave him a supportive shake. "Come on. They're waiting for us."

*

"Give them some space, please! Back up!"

Liz felt herself being pulled along and while she was pretty sure Paul was the one leading the way, she couldn't be sure with so many people and cameras surrounding them. They were all so close, almost on top of them and she just wanted to be somewhere a bit quieter, a bit less... chaotic.

She'd blown through half a bottle of wine while waiting for Paul to pick her up, hoping to drown her sorrows in the alcohol while at the same time improving her mood for dinner, but all it did was make her feel worse. Her senses were dulled just enough that the rest of her felt the need to overcompensate, which only resulted in her being on edge.