JULY, 1991, SPRINGFIELD, VA

"I'M GOING TO throw up," Reagan announced. She kept her hands clasped tightly on the handle of her suitcase, hoping it would steady her shaky knees. With Dave at her side, they stood outside of their airport terminal, awaiting the arrival of Virginia Grohl and her daughter, Lisa.

"You didn't throw up on the plane," Dave reasoned. He grabbed one of Reagan's hands and looped his fingers through hers, speaking genially as if he were talking to a toddler. "I don't think you'll throw up now."

"Yes, but this is the part where I actually meet your mom and sister."

Surprisingly, or at least so she thought to herself, Reagan had survived the flight from Washington to Virginia without much fuss. She had never been on a plane before, but Dave had talked her through it, insisting that the chances of them spiraling down towards their death as the plant crashed were slim to none.

He'd even given Reagan the window view of their economy seating in order to calm her down, and when the plane had hit pockets of turbulence, he'd held her hand and told her it would be alright. He'd done the whole flying ordeal before. He knew what to expect.

Throughout the nonstop, nearly six hour flight, Reagan had allowed her mind to sink into an imaginative state in which she brainstormed different scenarios of what was ahead. She tried to picture over and over again what it was going to be like, meeting Dave's family, but not one specific scheme stuck.

Dave had sensed her anxiousness and in an attempt to soothe her, he had told stories from his childhood involving his mom and sister. Reagan laughed, appeasing his funny way of rehashing all of his young adventures, but she'd remained nervous.

It would have been easier if there wasn't a certain pressure she felt bearing down on her head. Having to fly across the country to meet someone's relatives was extreme in the first place, and that alone did not take into account that Reagan had yet to meet anyone's family as their girlfriend before.

The only thing that kept her relatively cheerful was the way Kimberly had bid her goodbye earlier that day. Her mother had virtually ignored her existence as Reagan had left the house that morning with Richard, who had kindly offered to drive both her and Dave to the airport. It was better than having Kurt do it — he couldn't be relied upon to wake up that early.

Reagan had felt smug knowing that Kimberly had not gotten her way with her. For once, she'd gone against her mother's will and done what she wanted instead of abiding by someone else's rulebook. Both Dave, Kate and Chris commended her for her valiant efforts. She was finally starting to feel more grown-up than she ever had before, which she found funny since she was twenty-two and clearly an adult.

She replayed these scenes in her head as they stood within the Dulles International Airport, looking like a pair of raggedy kids in their jeans. Dave didn't let go of her hand as he craned his neck over the milling heads of people, searching for his mother.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Reagan said aloud. She had already said the same thing at least four times to him before the plane had even landed.

"It does feel kind of crazy, doesn't it?" he laughed, relaxed as ever. His hopes were so high for their trip that nothing had yet to actually bother him, not even Reagan's own anxieties. It was almost impressive just how confident he was.

"Maybe we rushed all of this," Reagan voiced, feeling a sudden ice cold fear prick through her veins.

"We didn't," Dave said firmly, adamant on keeping Reagan tranquil. "Don't overthink it. I didn't want to do this alone because I didn't want to be apart from you any more than I have to be. Think of it that way."

"That doesn't lessen the fact that it's a big deal," Reagan muttered.

"No matter what happens, nothing is going to change here," Dave insisted, giving Reagan's hand a convincing squeeze. He motioned between them both. "I'm going to love you no matter what, okay? But chill out. Everything will be great."

Reagan stared hard at him, wishing that despite her worries, she could have captured that moment right then and there to stow away forever. She couldn't pinpoint why, but the excursion that she and Dave were on felt like the precipice of something greater to come, and not necessarily between them.

Nirvana's album was due for release in September, or so that was being said to the band. Reagan couldn't predict what would happen after the album came out, but she wondered if anything would still be the same for her and Dave. She wanted to believe that he'd still be hers and not just an object to the public eye, or even more appropriately, a drummer in band.

He wouldn't change, she knew for sure. He would still be the kind of guy who would fly her across a handful of states just to introduce her to his mother. He proved his love to her in that way. The possibility of his career sprouting into something bigger wouldn't change that.

Her thoughts were rattled by the sound of a woman calling Dave's name through the throngs of travelers spread out before them. Reagan glanced forward and spotted a familiar face that she'd once seen in Dave's personal stash of photographs.

"Dave!" the woman shouted joyfully, waving her arm and plunging into the crowd.

"Hey!" Dave shouted back. He didn't leave Reagan's side, instead allowing the woman to barrel towards them both and envelop him in a bear hug. She had a pretty head full of reddish-brown hair and a lovely smile that lit her face up like the summer sun. Upon further inspection, Reagan noted that the shape of her eyes reminded her strongly of Dave's.

"Finally not too busy to come home to your family!" the woman laughed, pulling back from Dave's hug with a huge grin. She tapped the brim of his baseball cap, fit snugly over the hair he had pulled back at the nape of his neck.

"I'm never too busy for you guys," Dave smiled. Reagan held her breath as he turned towards her. This was it. This was the moment they had both been waiting for and it had arrived, whether she was ready or not.

"Lisa, this is Reagan. Reagan, this is my weirdo-older sister, Lisa."

Lisa smacked Dave's arm with a scoff, but discarded the jab in favor of facing Reagan with another brilliant, happy grin. She took her by surprise as she wrapped her into a tight hug, as if they had known each other for years rather than mere seconds.

"I'm so glad we're finally meeting," Lisa exclaimed. "My brother told us so much about you."

"All good things I hope," Reagan said, feeling flustered but also delighted by Lisa's natural warmth. She returned her smile shyly, feeling like the bold, fearless part of herself was in sudden hibernation.

Dave coughed and made a face, faking a guilty disposition. Reagan was about to poke him in the side when they were joined by the last and final Grohl woman who wedged her way into the huddle with a handbag on her arm.

"You took off before I even realized that it was them!" Dave's mother said, scolding Lisa. "I didn't even see which direction you went in."

"Hey Mom," Dave grinned, looking like a little kid on Christmas. He shamelessly embraced his mother into a loving squeeze, holding her for a few lasting seconds. Reagan felt her face flush when Virginia's eyes fell on her, though they were round and alight with kindness.

"I hate to say it David, but I do believe I was more so looking forward to seeing this young lady today than you," she said teasingly, reaching a red-finger-nailed hand out to Reagan.

Reagan immediately took Dave's mother into a hug, inhaling the light perfumed scent around her that all mothers seemed to have. She felt reassured by the gentle way Virginia placed her arm around her shoulders, tucking her into the hug with reassurance that she so far, she approved of her.

"It's so good to meet you," Reagan said sincerely. In the back of her brain, she was experiencing an overwhelming cascade of worry. She hoped that she didn't look too tired or disoriented from the time change, or had food from the flight leftover on her face. Even her choice of an outfit, jeans with a flanneled shirt, suddenly felt like a mistake although Lisa was wearing a nearly exact replica of the ensemble.

"Let's get to the car," Virginia suggested. "I've got to start dinner for us all when we get back to the house."

Reagan felt lightheaded as she followed the Grohls outside of the airport and to their car. She barely registered that Dave was still clinging on to her, keeping one hand on her at all times while he prattled on to his family about his time out west. She was too busy telling herself that so far, things had gone smoothly. Now, she had a whole week to make sure they stayed that way.

Her and Dave took to the backseat while Lisa offered to drive. In the passenger seat, Virginia Grohl frequently turned around so that she could talk to Reagan and Dave as they began the thirty minute drive to Springfield. Dave's hand remained on top of Reagan's, nestled between them both against the exterior of the seat. His touch managed to slow down her heartbeat, but did nothing for the bashfulness that she'd fallen victim to.

"Dave tells me that you're a close friend of Kurt's and that you're also a drummer," Virginia commented, her eyes still glittering with enthusiasm for her only son's girlfriend. Reagan found this to be encouraging, mostly because she was so unused to friendly mothers.

"Yes, that's true," Reagan said. "But I'm not as good as he is."

"I bet you are," Lisa called out, peering into the rearview mirror.

"He didn't manage to convince you of that, did he?" Virginia laughed, wagging a finger at Dave who gave a half-hearted shrug. "Has he been showing off?"

"It was more like he proved it when I first ever heard him play," Reagan explained. "He's the most talented musician I know."

Touched by her sentiment, Dave glanced at Reagan from the corner of his eye. She felt him graze the back of her hand with his thumb, moving it in soft circles as a sign of his appreciation. She smiled, realizing that there was no other person she'd rather be with, especially while in a different state meeting their family.

"If only you could have known him as a child," Virginia pondered longingly. "He just adored music. And wait until you see his room! It's been covered in posters since he was a teenager. I didn't have the heart to renovate once he left."

Reagan continued to listen keenly as Virginia told more anecdotes from Dave's younger years, giggling as she imagined a young Dave running around his neighborhood streets wreaking havoc. She felt significantly more relaxed as the drive stretched on and thickets of tall green trees flew past the car windows. Dave had told her beforehand that Virginia was much different than Washington, but strangely, Reagan felt at home as they ventured into Springfield's city limits. The only distinct, noticeable difference was the crisp heat and vast rays of sunshine spilling in every direction. She wondered vaguely if she would leave with a suntan.

When they arrived at Dave's childhood home, Reagan was grinning ear to ear, finally feeling like her true self was emerging from its shell. She anticipated what it would feel like, walking into the room that Dave had learned music inside of. Being within the place where he had grown up made her feel closer to him somehow.

"Still feel like you're going to throw up?" he whispered to her as Virginia and Lisa exited the car.

"No, but I won't completely rule out that it might happen," she whispered back, though she hardly believed it herself.

Together they lugged their things through the front door of the house with Virginia and Lisa leading the way. Reagan was hit with an unmistakably homey scent as she walked inside, the kind of smell that collects overtime from rich, homemade meals and freshly washed linens. She felt immediately that this place was by far more comfy than her own house back in Olympia.

"You've got a beautiful home, Ms. Grohl," Reagan marveled. Nothing could have possibly deterred her positive opinion of Virginia's house. Regardless of size or grandeur, she was already quite taken with the place and understood why Dave harbored a soft spot for his Virginian hometown.

"Thank you honey. And call me Ginny," she replied warmly, setting down her purse. "Lisa, help your brother and Reagan with their things upstairs. I'm going to start dinner."

"Come on," Lisa grinned, waving Reagan forward. "I'll show you Dave's room before he beats us there."

Dave grimaced, but Reagan laughed and abandoned her suitcase at Dave's side so that she could follow Lisa up to his old room. She could hear him shouting something from the foot of the stairs, but she ignored him, too busy enjoying herself alongside his sister.

"Oh my God," Reagan said as they reached the second floor. Lining the nearby wall was an arrangement of frames, each holding a family photo. She zeroed in on an image of Dave clearly taken on a school picture day, in which he beamed at the camera with oversized front teeth. His hair was short and laid flat on his forehead, a look Reagan was highly not use to seeing.

"Please tell me Mom took those down damn school pictures!" Dave shouted, still clomping his way up the stairs with both his and Reagan's suitcases in tow.

"As if our mom would actually do that," Lisa snorted. She grabbed Reagan's wrist, pulling her down the hall. "Let's get in there before he starts whining."

Reagan felt a spark of heat across her skin where Lisa touched. She hadn't expected the grab, but she liked the way it made her feel, as if she was close to Lisa already. She knew right away that she liked Dave's sister very much, enough that she could envision them being friends even without her connection to Dave.

"I haven't been in here in ages," Lisa admitted as she threw Dave's bedroom door open. "But like my mom said, it's gone pretty much untouched since he left."

Tentatively, Reagan stepped inside the room, the feeling akin to entering the twilight zone. She would have never guessed that she'd find herself standing in Dave's childhood bedroom, but yet there she was, soaking in the visual evidence of his past with wandering eyes.

As Ginny had mentioned, the walls were plastered with posters advertising a variety of obscure punk bands. The wallpaper underneath could barely be spotted by the amount of time and effort Dave had spent revering his favorite genre of music. Reagan identified some of the bands right away, causing her to smile. It was nice to be reminded of why she and Dave had come together in the first place.

There were no instruments in sight, but on a nearby desk, she spotted several pairs of random drumsticks. Scattered in various places were miscellaneous remnants of Dave's childhood, from old, forgotten toys and books to a skateboard that looked like it had not seen its last ride in years. She noticed a backpack that looked equally untouched sitting in a corner.

"This is great," Reagan said, turning in a slow circle. "It's like being in a museum. The museum of Dave Grohl."

"Dave will probably disagree with you if I show you the sheets under that bed. I'm pretty sure they're Star Wars themed. Should we have a look?" Lisa grinned mischievously.

"No showing off my Star Wars sheets without my permission," Dave warned, appearing through the doorway with the luggage. His eyes flickered across the room briefly, nostalgia lasting but only a second on his face, before they landed right back on Reagan. She felt a sudden urge to kiss him.

"I'm surprised you didn't call Mom begging her to change them before you arrived," Lisa said, cocking a hand on her hip.

"I probably would have if Reagan was actually sleeping in here. She gets to spend the week in your old room."

"Oh, good. Don't worry Reagan. I had cool bedsheets."

Reagan laughed with amusement, satisfied that Lisa didn't find it weird that she'd be sleeping in her old bed. The thought had traumatized her at first, especially since she didn't do well sleeping in any sort of strange place, but Lisa's approval made her feel better about the sleeping situation.

"Here, I'll take your suitcase to my room while Dave gives you the grand tour," Lisa said.

"You don't have to do that," Reagan started, feeling her face flush. She tried to reach for her things before Lisa could grab them, but was beat to it.

"It's alright. I'm going to help my mom downstairs with dinner anyways. You two have fun walking down memory lane."

Lisa pulled Reagan's suitcase out of the room and down the hall, headed for another closed bedroom door. When she turned the corner, Dave and Reagan remained alone.

"Well," Dave said, tucking his hands sheepishly into his jean pockets. "We made it."

"That we did," Reagan agreed, sweeping her eyes across Dave's room again. She noted little details that she had not seen right away, like the cluster of action figurines poking out of the closet and a torn pair of sneakers by the foot of the bed. All of it was apart of Dave, albeit a Dave that Reagan did not know.

"I didn't realize that this would be actually kind of mortifying," Dave winced as he too surveyed his room.

Reagan neared the desk and picked up a drumstick, turning it over in her hand. She smiled as she thought of a young Dave, hammering away for the first time behind the kit.

"I love it," she assured him softly. "I really, really love it."

"You do?" Dave asked. He joined Reagan by the desk, watching as she set the drumstick back down. He put an arm around her waist.

"Of course I do. All of this stuff is a part of you. It's a part that I've never gotten to see. It's amazing."

"If you're really that into it, I'm sure my mom will dig up the home video tapes from the early eighties."

"I won't say no to that," Reagan laughed. She turned slightly so that they faced each other, their chests nearly pressed together. Mimicking Dave, she looped her arms around him and smiled.

"I'm happy that you're happy," he whispered as he bowed his forehead against hers. "I'm so glad you came."

"Me too," Reagan murmured. "I'm really glad too."