- Some Kind of Wonderful -
"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one...Happy New Year!"
Gathered around the television with party hats and party blowers, the Hart-Montgomery family rang in the new year together. Over by her boyfriend of eight months, Reba leaned in for her first kiss of the new year. Rhett Farmer wrapped his arms around his girlfriend, surprising her when he lifted her and spun her around a bit. For a moment, it was just the two of them in the world. Van and Cheyenne and Barbra Jean and Brock were excitedly watching the end of the special on television as Rhett and Reba stared into another's eyes. Rhett was a tall, handsome man a few years older than Reba. His kind nature and quiet manner was what attracted Reba to him. That and his big green eyes and charming smile.
"Did you think we'd make it to the new year?" Rhett asked as he set Reba back on her feet.
She shrugged. "I was hoping we would. I'm not quite ready to let you go yet."
Rhett smiled and kissed her once more. "Well, then maybe I'll get the answer I want when I ask you my next question."
"What's that?"
Her hands slid from his toned biceps to his shoulders as he proceeded to reach into his jacket and make his way onto one knee.
"What are you doing?" She asked, her voice almost a whisper. As if she wanted to keep what he was doing a secret despite her family sitting mere feet away.
He held out a little round box. "About to piss my pants," Was his response. His face was flushed and Reba could see that he was sweating a bit. His nervousness was apparent.
As Reba looked over the top of his head, she saw her family looking at them intently. Cheyenne and Barbra Jean were both smiling and elbowing each other, as if they already knew while Van had a smile on his face as well. Brock just looked at Reba. If she wasn't mistaken, his eyes looked a bit dim.
"I know we've only been together a short time," Rhett began. "But I feel like we've known each other for years. I hope you know that you're my best friend. And it would make me the happiest man in the world if you would be my wife."
He opened the box and held up a diamond engagement ring. It was bigger than the one Brock had given to her years before, but it meant very little. She hadn't even thought they were at this point in their relationship. Like he said, it had only been a short time since they first met. Marriage was the last thing on her mind, if it was even there at all.
"What do you say?" He asked, holding the ring between his thumb and index finger.
Nine months back, Reba had met Rhett at an office party his restaurant had catered for. From her table in her party dress, Reba watched the cute chef up on the small stage talk about how thankful he was to get to cater such a get together and he hoped everyone enjoyed what he and his team had created. She thought it was very considerate of him to do so, and that was one of the things she loved about him most. He was very humble.
She looked over the top of his head to see Cheyenne with a hand over her mouth, her eyes smiling. It was like everyone was sending her good thoughts, trying to prompt her to say yes. But she didn't want to. She didn't love him.
"Yes."
Rhett smiled and stood, slipping the ring on her finger as everyone hooped and hollered. He wrapped her up in a hug, kissing her just like he had moments before.
"This calls for a toast!" Van announced, raising his beer.
And they all toasted to the newly engaged couple. But Reba had other things to think about. Like how she was going to tell him that she couldn't marry him. She wished he hadn't proposed to her in front of everyone. Letting him down easy wasn't an option anymore because she had already said yes. Had he asked her in a private setting, she could have explained herself a bit more and they could have walked away with no hurt feelings. She might not have loved him, but she did care about his feelings and she didn't want to hurt him.
But she did have to tell him she really didn't mean to say yes. Or should she, anyway?
A week later, Reba sat at her desk at work. Pictures of her and Rhett and the kids sat around the edge so that her clients could see and so that she could always have them around. But now she seriously considered getting rid of the ones of her and her new fiance. She still hadn't broke the news to him and still didn't know how.
A knock at her office door brought her out of her thoughts.
"Come in."
She sat back in her chair as Brock walked in, closing the door behind him.
"What's up?" He asked, sitting down in one of the chairs she had in front of her desk.
"I'm working. What do you think is up?"
He looked at her. "I was just asking. Jeez. That time of the month?"
"No. It is not that time of the month, Brock."
"Then why are you being so snippy?"
"I've just been thinking a lot."
Brock sat back in the chair, crossing his ankles and folding his arms. "About what?"
She sighed. "Nothing. What did you need?"
He shrugged. "Just came to chat."
Reba gave him a look. "Brock. Seriously."
He sighed once more. "Fine. It's me and Barbra Jean."
Reba rolled her eyes and held up hand. "Say no more. I'm officially done being y'all's therapist unless you start paying me by the hour."
"Reba-"
"No, Brock. I have enough on my plate to think about. I don't need to add your problems to it."
"What do you have to think about? Your perfect life, your perfect job, your perfect fiance?"
"Shut up, Brock. You have no idea what you're talking about, as usual. Unless you have something else that doesn't pertain to Barbra Jean to say, you can leave."
"I was just saying."
"Yeah, well...you can just go. I'm busy here." She absentmindedly twisted her engagement ring around her finger.
Brock stayed in his chair a moment longer. "It's about Rhett, isn't it?"
"What?" Reba turned to her computer, not making eye contact with him.
"The reason you're upset. He said something stupid, didn't he?"
Reba scoffed, but didn't offer any explanation.
"What did he do?" Brock prompted. "You can tell me, Reba."
She shrugged, tapping the mouse a few times.
"Did he say your dress made you look fat?"
"No."
"Did he forget your anniversary?"
"No."
"Did he accidentally mow down your azaleas?"
"No."
"Then what did he do?"
"He asked me to marry him!"
Brock was quiet for a moment. He just watched her as she turned her gaze from her computer screen to him.
"Why was that wrong?" He finally asked, not quite understanding what she meant.
"I don't love him."
Brock's eyes went wide and he nodded, sitting back. "Ohhhh. I get it." He folded his arms before saying, "Then why did you say yes?"
"Because he asked me in front of all of you. What was I supposed to do? Say no and humiliate him?"
"No, but you weren't supposed to say yes if you don't love him."
Reba shook her head, looking away from him. "I shouldn't even be talking to you about this. It's none of your business."
"I'm your best friend, Reba."
"No. No, you're not."
"Whether or not you want to admit it, I am, alright? I have been for thirty years and I always will be. Can we please recognize that and stop sweeping it under the rug? Everybody knows. It's not a big secret."
"Brock, what's your point?"
"Just be open with me. You said you're done being mine and Barbra Jean's therapist. Well, let me try being yours. I think I owe it to you."
"Brock, you can't even figure out your own relationship."
"Give me a chance, Red."
Reba rolled her eyes and turned the monitor off, pushing her chair away from her desk. "Fine. Counsel me."
"Alright. First things first: have you slept with him?"
"Brock!"
"Just answer me."
"I'm not going to."
"He wouldn't sleep with you, huh?"
"Yes, we've slept together. Next question."
"When a woman sleeps with a guy, they automatically think that the girl is interested in him. We're simple creatures. We don't over-think things. Here's our mindset if a girl sleeps with us: 'We've been together almost a year. I love this girl and now she wants to sleep with me. Which is cool. We're gonna make love 'cause we're so in love.' That's how men think when they fall in love. Now, if they're just dating, that's another thing, but I think that Rhett really loves you. So that's his thought process."
"That's a stupid way of thinking."
"Aren't you the ones who taught our children not to make love if you're not in it?"
"I'm pushing fifty, Brock. What am I supposed to do? Wait around forever for something that might not happen?"
"What are you saying?"
"I might not tell him I'm not ready. I might just go for it."
"What?"
"I'm not getting any younger, Brock. If he wants to marry me, I'm gonna let him. Who knows if I'll ever find somebody I actually love again. I don't want to be alone and pathetic. He's safe. I'll learn to love him."
"That's scary."
Reba shrugged. "Well, it's not your life."
"You deserve to be with somebody you love, Reba."
"Just let me live my life, alright?"
"You can't live a life like that."
"It's not like he abuses me. I do care for him."
"Not only is it not fair to you, it's not fair to him."
"Why? He'll be getting what he wants."
Brock sat back and shook his head. "The Reba I used to know never would have done this. Not in a million years."
"Things have changed in the eleven years we've been divorced."
"Apparently."
Reba stood up from her chair, shaking her head. "I have to get back to work, Brock." She walked past him to open her office door. "If you don't mind..."
Brock sighed loudly, but got up. However, he didn't have any intention of leaving. Instead, he gently closed the door.
"Seriously, Brock-"
"Stop," He said, standing in front of her. He took her left hand in his and held it up. "Do you see this ring? If it means nothing to you, you need to tell him. You're gonna regret getting married to him if you don't really want to. I promise you."
She jerked her hand out of his. "Stop trying to control me. We're not married anymore and you don't have any say in what I do."
"It will just cause problems for everyone. I'm trying to help you."
"I didn't ask for your help. You're the one who barged in here and started telling me what I need to do and how I need to do it!"
Brock hung his head, placing his hand on the door right near her shoulder. He could smell her perfume and it was getting hard to control his thoughts. He was in such a vulnerable state with his relationship with Barbra Jean. It would be so easy to just let himself go and do what he wanted.
Raising his head, Brock's eyes met Reba's and he saw how sad they seemed to be. He knew Rhett was good to her, but he knew they weren't meant for one another. He knew that simply because Reba and himself were soul-mates. He had always known that. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he knew that they were made for each other. But Reba wasn't having any of it and Brock was at a very scary place. He knew what to do to save her from making a horrible decision, but it could ultimately destroy everything that they already had going; good, bad or otherwise.
With his left hand, he touched her cheek gently. She flinched at first, but relaxed after a second.
"What are you doing?" She asked, staring at him intently.
"Trying to help you." He leaned forward and nuzzled her neck.
"I don't want your help." She tried to push him away, but he was persistent. "You can't do this. You're married and I'm engaged."
"To people we both don't want to be with." He met her eyes. "Why can't we be happy for a little while?"
"Who says I want to be with you?"
"Don't you?"
"No. You're mean and you're egotistical, you lie and you cheat. Why would I want to be with you?"
"Because I'm all you've ever known."
"See? Egotistical."
"Yeah, but I'm not safe."
She kept thinking about all the things Brock had brought to her attention that evening. Rhett had come over for dinner and had stayed to help her clean up.
"Have you thought any more about a date yet?" He asked as he loaded the dishwasher.
Reba still sat at her kitchen table, her plate still in front of her. All she kept thinking about was how Brock's hand had felt against her cheek earlier.
"A date for what?"
Rhett momentarily stopped loading the dishwasher. "For our wedding."
"Oh! No, I haven't thought much about it. There's no need to rush."
"Don't you want to do this as soon as possible?"
Reba stood up, taking her plate to the sink. "I don't know. Why can't we take it slow?"
"Because it's a wedding and we're in love. I want to be your husband as soon as I can. I've helped plan two weddings. It's not that hard."
Reba looked up at him. "You've been married more than once?"
"Almost. I was engaged twice, but married once. I guess you could call my second fiancee a runaway bride. Got cold feet the night before the wedding and called it off."
Reba went back to rinsing her plate and the rest of the dishes in the sink. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah. It was pretty crazy."
"I guess so."
Rhett continued to talk about his former fiancee as Reba thought about how many other things she didn't know about him. God only knew what other things he hadn't told her yet, and here she was getting ready to marry him.
It'll be fine, Reba told herself. Brock will quit bothering me eventually and I'll get used to being with Rhett. It's not like he's a horrible guy. He's nice and sweet and he's good to me.
"He's safe."
Brock's words kept floating through her mind.
"Do you see this ring? If it means nothing to you, you need to tell him."
Before she knew it, Rhett had finished loading the dishwasher and began making his way to the living room where Reba followed him without even thinking about it. Mindlessly, Reba twisted the ring on her finger as she sat down on the couch with Rhett.
"What's wrong?" He asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her to lean on his shoulder.
She shook her head. "Nothing." Looking up, she asked, "Why?"
"You're quiet. You're never quiet. Ever. Unless you're upset about something. In which case, you can tell me."
She shook her head, reaching forward to grab the remote from the coffee table, clicking the television on. The evening news drowned out the awkward silence that filled the room. Rhett sighed, taking the remote from her and turning the TV back off.
"I was watching that," Reba protested, sitting up straight.
Rhett threw the remote back to where it had laid moments before. "Please tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing is wrong." She looked at him sharply. "If you're going to marry me, you should know that when I'm quiet, it means I'm tired, not pissed off."
Rhett flinched. "I've never heard you cuss before."
Reba shrugged.
"Do you do that often, or is it a habit you've picked up somewhere?"
Reba stood up from the couch with a sigh. "Rhett, I'm tired. Can we please just talk tomorrow?"
"You want me to leave?"
Reba threw her head back. "Don't make it sound like I don't want to be around you. I'm just tired. I had a long day."
Rhett stood as well. "Then let me help you with that. I had planned on staying the night."
Reba looked up at him. He towered over her, clearing six feet by two inches. "Not tonight, okay?"
He ignored her and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning down to peck her lips. "You know you want to." He tried to deepen the kiss but she shook her head.
"No." She pulled away and put her hands on his strong arms, tightening her grip and trying to force him to let go. When he finally did, she saw the hurt mixed with confusion in his eyes. Carefully, she laced her fingers with his and explained further.
"I think I'm getting sick. I had a long day...a long week, actually, and I just don't feel up to it. Maybe you can stay over this weekend."
Rhett finally nodded, pulling her close for one last kiss before he told her he loved her. She reciprocated and then he was gone.
Closing the door behind him as he walked out, she leaned against the door frame, sliding to the floor, hearing her ex-husband's words once more.
"He's safe."
The whole thing had been a test. She craved nothing more than a man to make her feel like a woman and Rhett was supposed to do that. He was supposed to tell her that they could go upstairs, he could give her a nice massage and they could make sweet love. That's what she had wanted him to say even though she told him the exact opposite. She felt that she shouldn't have to ask for what she wanted. A partner was just supposed to know.
But she supposed the thing that hurt her most was that she knew Brock would have stayed. Because he had before. He wasn't safe. Never had been, never will be.
I don't have much to say other than I hope this story isn't a train-wreck.