"Barbara Jean, that is my answer and I'm not going to change my mind," Reba fumed. "… No!" Reba looked around the kitchen, realizing tat she was yelling into the receiver. "No," she repeated quietly "I'm not going to make this easy for you and I will not make your decision for you. … No, Barbara Jean. This is a decision only you can make. Goodbye." Reba waited, the receiver still pressed against her ear, to hear the definitive click. When she didn't, she smiled and gently placed the receiver back in its cradle.
So much of her despised what she had become. After what Brock had done to her, the way he hurt her, Reba had vowed she would never be the cause of a marriage breaking up.
But she had. Despite her vow, Reba had become the other woman in Brock and Barbara Jean's marriage. And what's more is that she completely understood why Brock had strayed. BJ just had that effect. Her charm, her beauty, her sense of humor, her heart, her magnetism… Her perseverance.
Reba laughed to herself, thinking about how she and Barbara Jean had started.
It wasn't exactly what dreams were made of… Falling for the mistress turned wife of your ex-husband.
And despite all that, she was content. She was happy with her love, even if it had to be secret.
Her better judgement, though, kept her from enjoying that happiness. It wouldn't let her be. It nagged at her all day, doubly so when she was with Barbara Jean, and even in her dreams. It was that nagging that caused her to finally tell BJ that she had to decide who and what she wanted. That nagging that drove the fiery redhead to continue the fight, the struggle, with the blonde when she just wanted to stay happy and not risk it.
Now, she just hoped that she could trust that Barbara Jean would choose her.
"Calm yourself, Reba," she told herself as the hours past and she forced herself to keep busy by tidying the living room. "BJ will need time to decide. She needs to really think and-"
Reba heard the door open behind her and couldn't keep a smile from her face. BJ had made her decision: her!
"I was wondering when you'd get here!" Reba said, turning around
"That's something you haven't said to me in a while," Brock said, a teasing smile on his face.
Reba shook her head, disappointed in herself that she had let herself believe Barbara Jean had chosen so quickly. And had chosen her. "What do you want, Brock? You know you don't live here anymore, right?" Reba asked him, turning away and continuing what she had been doing.
"Yeah, yeah. I just came here to talk-"
"All the kids are out right now," Reba interrupted with a lie, wanting to be alone while she waited.
"-to you," Brock continued, walking towards her. "About BJ."
Reba froze.
"So, you do know something, then. I thought you might. You are her best friend, after all. I think she's having an affair- or wants to- and I think you know with who."
"No. No, I don't. Why would you say that?"
"Look, Reba, she's my wife. I just want to know what's going on. And I know you know."
"Not a clue! Thanks for stopping in!" Reba said,, crossing in front of him and opening the door.
"Reba."
Reba closed her eyes, not looking. She knew that voice. It whispered in her every thought. Reba opened her eyes slowly and looked at the speaker.
"Barbara Jean."
Barbara Jean was standing a the door, her hand poised to knock.
"Brock!?"
"Why are you so surprised? Aren't you here to see me?"
'Well, yes and no," Barbara Jean said, entering the house and standing between Reba and Brock. "I've made my decision," she said, looking at Reba, who nodded that she intended to support any decision Barbara Jean made.
"What decision?" Brock asked, exasperated.
Reba looked into Barbara Jean's eyes, searching for a clue.
"Brock, as you know," Barbara Jean began, tearing her eyes away from Reba's, "you and I have been on the rocks and separated for a while." Brock nodded. "Well, in that time, I've been thinking. More than that, I've been feeling. For the first time in a very long time, I feel loved. And whole. And special. And happy. And I wish I could say that it's you making me feel this way, but it would be a lie."
"BJ, what are you saying?" Brock asked, shocked.
"Let me finish," Barbara Jean stated, beginning to tear up. "There is someone who does make me feel all those wonderful things, though, Brock. Someone I am in love with."
Reba felt her breath catch.
They hadn't said that to each other yet.
"Do you mean that, Barbara Jean?" Reba asked. "Do you really mean it?"
Barbara Jean nodded, taking Reba's hand in her own and squeaking it.
"Oh, Barbara Jean, I love you, too!" Reba exclaimed, pulling the blonde into an embrace, which the blonde eagerly returned.
"What in hell is going on?" Brock asked, genuinely confused.
"Oh," Barbara Jean said, turning around again, careful to keep Reba's arms around her as she did so. "What I am trying to say is that, as much as I car for you, I don't love you. That is, I'm not in love with you. Anymore. And…" Barbara Jean paused, searching for words to end the marriage and life she had, only hours ago, clung to.
Reba hugged her tighter to show support, knowing how hard that must be for Barbara Jean to say.
With that, Barbara Jean found her voice. "I want to make the separation permanent. I want a divorce, Brock."
Brock stood silently for a moment. "So this is why you were so mad when I ran off with BJ," he laughed, managing to find the humor in the situation despite being told his second marriage was over. "You wanted BJ for yourself!"
Reba allowed herself to smile, knowing that Brock was able to accept it. "What can I say? She grows on you."
Brock nodded at the pair before waling past them and through the door.
Barbara Jean moved to close the door behind him as Reba began walking to the couch to let what had just transpired sink in.
Reba heard the door close, then a rush of footsteps before the blonde enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug. Reba shook her head and pulled out of the hug… Just enough to turn and return the hug properly.
"Oh, Reba!" Barbara Jean exclaimed.
"It was then that they realized that neither of them needed a man," Van said in a mock serious voice as he and Cheyenne entered, unaware, from the kitchen.
Oh, Van… How very right you are!