False Starts || Dave Grohl

Chapter 40

She isn't though.

She never wanted another kid; especially not one alone.

"Hey Rhys," I smile at the small boy, sticking my hand out to mimic a shake. "Why don't you show me your cars so mom can have a break for the afternoon. She told me all about your giant collection."

My collection.

The shit eating grin that appears on the child's face worries me, obviously excited to share his passion with someone else. My mother places him on the floor, allowing the one year old to scurry into the living room. "Thank you."

"You need the rest," I lightly pat her shoulder before heading after the small child.

---

"Look like mommy." The small child, born only a month after Eva, has such a wide vocabulary that I have been left speechless multiple times in the last hour. He's definitely charismatic, reminding me of Dave in a lot of ways, and it's pretty obvious he will grow up to be the brains of the family.

The small blond boy smiles up at me as I continue to roll my Hot Wheels car around the floor. "Really? That's flattering Rhys." He makes car noises with his mouth, pushing the red one in his hand towards my green one before letting go as the two collide. "Awe man, we've crashed."

He seems confused at first, green eyes darting between me and the two cars before he rolled his away from mine. "All good."

"Yeah," I can't help but reach out and ruffle his hair a bit, "I guess you're right little man."

"Hey Rose," My mother's soft voice travels in through the kitchen, "Can you come here for a minute?"

The heavy topics have yet to be touched, which is probably why I am being whisked away. I let out a sigh, hoping to calm my nerves a bit as I push myself off the carpeted floor. "I'll be right back."

My eyes immediately lock with my mother's stormy blue ones, making me wonder if I had done something wrong while interacting with the one year old, but I know it's something else. She is standing behind the open bar, silently chopping vegetables for dinner, while unconsciously keeping an eye on the young child in the room.

As soon as I take my first step onto the tiled kitchen floor, she speaks up. "You look different, older."

"A lot has happened since I left mom," I sigh, "I'm almost twenty-one..."

An awkward mood fills the air around us, realization of how long it's actually been since we last saw each other making it hard to pick a specific topic to start with. Of all things, I did not expect her next question though. "Did you have a baby?"

"What?"

The older woman cringes at my response, obviously trying to find a way to ease us into the discussion. "You just... You have baby hips and you've been in a relationship for a while so..."

"Miscarriage," My voice is low, not wanting to relive the pain that the topic always brings me. "A little over a year and a half ago..."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there Rose."

"It's fine," I plaster on my all too famous fake smile, brushing a hand through my dark brown hair. "I had a support system through it all, so I wasn't alone if that's what you're worried about."

My mother shakes her head though, "No I mean I'm sorry I didn't have the chance to warn you of the risk of miscarriages our family has. It's not uncommon; I even had one before you came along."

"W-what?" Everything about my confident shell shattered in that moment.

She drops her knife on the cutting board, wiping her hands off on a nearby dishtowel before crossing the room to stand in front of me. "My family has a long history of miscarriages. That's why most of us are only children. I'm sorry I didn't have the chance to tell you before this happened... it had to of been devastating for you and Dave."