That Blue Gibson

CH 70

“Liz?” he called into the quiet house, dropping his bag at his feet in the exact spot he had said goodbye to her three weeks before. There had been no airport goodbye then, no leaping into his arms in a wave of red hair and kisses… just a lingering hug, a quick kiss and the promise that they’d talk every day. He had been scared to leave her, she was still so fragile and easily confused as the concussion had manifested into a critical part of her brain. That had been one of the hardest goodbyes he had suffered through and Gus had politely pretended he didn’t notice that Dave was near tears the entire way to Heathrow.

The foyer was brighter and more welcoming than before without a trace of dust or cobwebs and there was a stained glass window above the door that he hadn’t noticed, casting blue and green puddles of light onto the spotless wooden floor.

“Liz?” he tried again, this time setting off in search of her. The kitchen, eating nook and sitting area looked as if they had been taken from black and white to Technicolor, though all the items were the same as before. The woods were deeper and richer, the upholsteries were brighter and cheerier and several vases of fresh flowers were set on any available surface. He noticed a book lying open on one of the overstuffed chairs and picked it up being careful not to lose her place among the pages.

“Such a fucking nerd,” he whispered to himself, reading The Scottish Enlightenment title.

He heard the front door open and froze, listening to the sound of a paper bag being set down along with some keys and then Liz’s voice, “Dave?”

He practically ran to her, taking a fraction of a second to see her bright smile before throwing his arms around her. His hand went to the back of her neck to hold her close and she giggled against his chest. The sound made his knees buckle, he hadn’t heard her laugh like that since they were in California.

“I fucking missed you,” he whispered into her hair.

“I can see that,” she whispered, unable to speak any louder with how tightly he was holding her. “I didn’t think you were coming in until tonight.”

“Gus got me out of an interview and on the next train over,” he explained. Dave knew he had been driving everyone around him up the wall with his anxiety, his endless talk about Liz and his short temper when it came to prolonging the tour, so Gus had taken it upon himself for the sake of the entire team to get Dave to London as soon as possible.

“That was very nice of him,” Liz croaked. Dave’s grip was getting tighter, squeezing the air from her chest. “Dave, I missed you… so much… but… I can’t—“

“Sorry,” he released his grip on her and she took a deep breath to refill her lungs. He held her at arm’s length and looked her over. She was wearing her usual jeans, Vans, and t-shirt, but she looked better. Maybe a little thinner, her cheekbones and jaw were more defined and her collarbones were visible under her white shirt, but she looked healthy. Her skin was tan, her hair was up and off her face with no sign of an injury or scar and her eyes were clear and focused.

She rocked a little on her heels, clearly uncomfortable under his gaze. “You’re looking at me like I’m raw steak.”

“You just… you look better.”

“Better than raw steak?” she teased.

God, it felt good to have her back. “You know what I mean,” he grinned.

“I feel better,” she shrugged and gathered the bag of groceries she had left on the little table next to the door. “Come see the backyard- wait… garden,” she inflected a British accent and took his hand, leading him back to the kitchen.