Chapter One
"Mom, what happened?" Cheyenne asked. Her Mom had just come through the back door. Cheyenne knew she'd been talking to Brock. Now she was pale and shaking like a leaf.
"…Why didn't I say it…?" Reba whispered. "Why…why…?"
"Mom, what? Please, tell me what happened!" she begged.
Reba sat at the table. She was starting to control herself. "Cheyenne, it'll be all right. Your Dad and Barbara Jean are going to try marriage counseling, and that should work."
Oh yeah, because Dad's great at the whole working out marriages thing, Cheyenne thought, but knew it was best not to say with her mother in this condition. Instead, she said, "Well, that's good, so why are you so…shaky?"
Reba was trying to figure that out. She didn't know why all of a sudden helping Brock stay in a relationship was hard on her – she'd helped them get through fights before. But this one had the weight of their whole marriage on it.
Brock had looked her straight in the eye and asked, "Reba…do you think I made a mistake?"
Her answer was yes. Her answer was a huge hug and begging him to take her back…
But the answer she gave was no. And it was a big, fat lie.
THREE WEEKS LATER
Reba was laying on her couch, trying to take her mind off of the bad day that she'd had. Kyra was mad at her for borrowing a CD, Jake had been grounded for getting an F for the quarter in his Biology class, Cheyenne, Van and Elizabeth and were on vacation so she had no adorable grandchild to cuddle, and Brock hadn't been by all day. It bugged her that when he wasn't around, but she wouldn't dare say that aloud.
But she shook thoughts of him out of her head. At least Barbara Jean hadn't come by. That was a good thing, it meant that something was wrong with her. She laughed an evil laugh, then broke off, disgusted with herself.
That means that something's wrong with Brock, too…Reba thought. "I NEED A LIFE!" she yelled.
Unfortunately, Brock and Barbara Jean entered just in time to hear this. They looked at each other, frowning, then at Reba.
"Oh, hi," Reba said, blushing.
"Since when do you need a life?" Brock asked.
"Gee, thanks. I guess I'm too busy taking care of other peoples problems to have time for my own life," Reba sighed, hoping they would get the message.
"Never mind that, we have a problem!" Barbara Jean said, waving her hands in the air.
"Why do I try dropping subtle hints?" Reba muttered. "What's the matter this time?"
"Kyra is angry at us for letting you borrow that CD." Brock sighed, sitting down.
"It's Paramore and she left it in Van's car – I gave in to temptation! And I didn't let anything happen to it," Reba moaned. "I gave it back to her!"
"Well she thinks you were snooping to see what kind of music she listens to," Brock explained.
"You don't have to snoop to hear what Kyra listens to. Just stand in your kitchen and you can hear everything."
"Tell me about it," Barbara Jean muttered. "But lately she's been mad at us because of everything."
"Maybe…" Reba began.
"What?"
"Nothing, forget I said anything."
"Reba, please, anything you have to say can help," Brock begged.
"Well…" she slowly sat up. "Maybe if you two weren't mad at each other she wouldn't be angry."
"We're not mad at each other!" Barbara Jean insisted.
"Then what was all the 'he said, she said' drama about yesterday? Every time I turned around one of you was standing behind me telling me it was someone else's fault."
"Was it really that bad, Reba? Say, what was that fight about, Barbara Jean?" Brock asked.
"Uh, I don't remember…a million other things were brought up after that one thing…but they were mostly from before that one thing…but I really don't remember what that one thing was-"
"You got mad at Brock because he was eating your diet food, then he made fun or your diet, then you told him to get on a diet, which made you think of being fat, which made you think of having a baby, which made you tell Brock to get is vasectomy reversed, which made him say no, which got you mad, which made him want to go play golf, which made you even more angry because you want to save for a pool, which he said no to, which made you angry. Meanwhile between arguments you were over here or calling me telling me everything which I sadly remember every part of."
Brock and Barbara Jean stared at Reba as she recited every detail of the day prior. Both were gaping.
"What – don't look at me like that, it's not my fault you tell me everything!" Reba snapped.
"How do you remember all that?" Brock continued to gape.
"Okay, can you two just stop giving me that look, it's really freaking me out. Now, I really think that if you two fought less than it would affect the way that Kyra was acting," Reba concluded.
"Well, what can we do? We've been going to a marriage counselor, we've talked to you! That usually helps everything!" Barbara Jean sighed, biting her bottom lip. "I mean, we're really trying, why isn't it working?"
Reba didn't like the direction this conversation was taking. It was becoming like one she and Brock had had right before they got a divorce.
She shook her head rapidly again, forgetting that she was with company.
"What was that?" Brock asked. "Got a fly on your head?"
"No, I had to get something off my mind," Reba muttered.
"Hey – maybe we should do that! Does it really work, Reba?" Barbara Jean asked, all ditsy – like.
"No."
"Darn it!" Barbara Jean lapsed into thought.
Have either of you considered that you should just forget the little things? Reba wanted to scream. If I had this chance with you, Brock, I would take it in a heart beat. If someone had told me the way things would have been I would have begged you to stay when I had the chance…
She was so frustrated that she hit a pillow. This time nobody seemed to notice that she acted strangely. But Brock did, and his heart sank.
Now she's worried about us. Why do we mix her up in our marriage problems? It was hard enough for her when we split. Now she feels likes she has to keep us together…God if she knew how much I wish I'd stuck it out…but she wouldn't believe me, and if she did she'd just laugh…at least I'd hear her laugh oh MY GOD WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH ME?
Now he shook his head to rid himself of these thoughts.
Barbara Jean noticed. "Brock, Reba said that doesn't work! Can't you just believe her?"
"I'm sorry I did it unconsciously!" Brock snapped. "Just like you snapping your stupid gum."
"Give me a little credit, Brock, that has actually been proven to relieve stress!"
"Who should I give credit to – you or that doctor who didn't have to go to college?"
"ENOUGH!" Reba yelled. "You're doing it again!"
"What?" Brock and Barbara Jean said in unison.
"FIGHTING! Great, now I'm getting a headache," Reba moaned, pressing her fingers to her temples.
"Sorry," Barbara Jean said sadly.
"Don't say sorry to me, apologize to each other!"
"Why – I didn't do anything!?" Barbara Jean defended.
"Uh-huh, you got mad at me!"
"Because you were being stupid!"
"THAT'S IT GET OUT." Reba ordered, pointing to the door.
"But –"
"If you guys are gonna argue it won't be here. Now see ya later!" Reba walked to the door and held it open.
Once she was alone again, she went to the kitchen. She really needed an iced tea – Barbara Jean could give her horrible headaches. Right now it seemed like her head was being pressed inward from all directions. She just wanted them to get over their problems…and whatever happened, anything that happened, Barbara Jean could not find out that Brock thought he made a mistake marrying her. The conflict swarming in her mind after that night still swarmed, never ceasing.
She loved Brock. She missed him. She wanted him there, to hold him whenever she wanted to. It was so unfair. But being the survivor she was, she knew that life wasn't fair.
At home, Brock and Barbara Jean hadn't spoken to each other since Reba had kicked them out. Brock was ashamed of it – the last thing he wanted was to make her upset again. But it seemed he was just too good at it to avoid it.
Barbara Jean, however, was having her own deep down epiphany. She knew one thing for sure: Brock and Reba were in love. She knew that they knew, and also that she was in the way. She had always been the person in the way, so it didn't particularly hit her self esteem. But she also knew that if it had not been for the little boy sleeping upstairs, Reba and Brock would be side by side, just like they wanted and needed.
Finally she broke the silence when both were sitting in the living room. "Brock?"
"Hmm?" he hummed.
"This isn't working, is it?" she sighed.
"No, it isn't," he agreed.
Silence.
"What are we gonna do?" Barbara Jean sighed. "That counselor can't make us love each other again."
"Nope. I guess there's just one last thing to do."
"I know…but Brock," she looked at him seriously. "We have to keep this to ourselves for now. We can't tell the kids."
"Of course."
"Or Reba."
Brock blinked. Keep something like this from Reba? What was she thinking? How could he even try when all he wanted to do was let her know that he still loved her…now that he could?
"Barbara Jean, how can we keep something like this from her? She has to know what's going on!" Brock begged.
"Leave your feelings for Reba for after the divorce," she smiled slightly. She got up before Brock had fully processed that she knew exactly how he felt about her.
More than that, though, she had always known that Reba felt the exact same way.
This will be hard, she thought as she started on dinner. But just until its over. Then I'll feel better…it'll all be better. Better for me, Brock, Reba, Henry…everyone. And if it'll be this good then, just wait until he and Reba get back together..!