Here We Go Again On Our Own
Summary: After Brock's second divorce, he and Reba scratch an itch. Their secret reunion lasts a little longer than expected. (AU "Barbra Jean went to Little Rock" universe.)
A/N: It's been years since I've written a "Reba" story, but I still watch reruns on a regular basis. Whenever I watch the finale, I always think how Barbra Jean planning to move creates a huge "what if" with a ton of potential. What if Brock and Barbra Jean got divorced? I've never been a Brock fan, but there's no denying his chemistry with Reba. Could they get back together after Barbra Jean moved away? With everything they'd been through in six years, it's interesting to think about how their dynamic might have shifted.
Part I
February 2007
"Well we just watched the broadcast. I guess you made your decision." Reba stood to face the woman who'd been a thorn in her side for six years. Now, after holding onto anger for so long, she frowned at the thought of a Barbra Jean-shaped hole in her life. Could they ever adjust?
Barbra Jean nodded as she gauged her family's reactions. "Yes, yes I have."
Typically Reba would joke about Barbra Jean leaving, but she couldn't do it. Instead, the thought of Barbra Jean moving away from Brock - and everyone else - filled her with a rage she never would have expected. It seemed almost surreal that after everything they'd been through, she wanted her ex-husband to work things out with the woman who broke up her marriage.
Reba spent years praying for Barbra Jean to be out of her life, but now that her prayer had been answered, she didn't feel like celebrating.
Anxiously tapping her hands on her jeans, Reba wandered over to the staircase and leaned on the banister. "I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but after all you guys have been though, and how much you mean to each other...I can't believe you're gonna leave." Her temper spiking, she declared, "Well I'm just not gonna stand here and let my best friend just ruin the rest of her life!"
Everyone froze, including Reba.
Oh Lord, she thought. Did I really call Barbra Jean my best friend?
Is this what my life has come to?
Also amazed, Barbra Jean asked, "Best friend?"
"Best friend?" Brock, Cheyenne and Van echoed.
If there was ever a time to admit this, it's now, Reba thought with resignation. "Yes, best friend! I'm proud to say that Barbra Jean is my best friend!" She paused. "It's more of a comment on my sad life more than anything." Turning back to Barbra Jean, she asked, "Well, aren't you gonna scream or hug me or do something to make me regret this?"
"I don't know," she replied. "You know you, you wait so long to hear something and then when you finally do you, you realize it's just no big deal. You know..." She stuck out her tongue and made random, negative sound effects to emphasize her point.
Incensed when she'd made such a big confession, Reba retorted, "What?"
Then Barbra Jean threw her arms up and smiled wide. "I'm kidding, that's what best friends do, they kid!" She playfully mock-tickled Reba's stomach, exclaiming, "Come here you!" before enveloping the redhead in a bone-crushing hug. "We're best friends, best friends, best friends, best friends..."
When they finally broke away, Reba managed a smile of her own. "So I guess you'll have to stay in Houston now, huh?"
The atmosphere became somber again as Barbra Jean and Brock exchanged sad looks. "Reba..." she began, frowning. "I really appreciate you calling me your best friend, and we will always be best friends, but...I have to leave." Her eyes drifted towards her husband again as she said, "My career is my life now, second only to my son."
"But...but..." Reba could see Brock and Barbra Jean's marriage falling apart before her eyes. This couldn't happen. If Reba's own marriage with Brock couldn't be saved, she needed to believe that the sacrifice had been for something. "Well, what about Henry? Shouldn't you try your best for him?"
Brock went over to Reba and put a hand on her shoulder. "Barbra Jean and I talked about this, Reba. The two of us will always be in his life. In fact, I'm going to fly out to once a month and maybe even buy a condo there. The plane tickets aren't that expensive." Still, he looked pained at the thought of monthly airfare and room bills. At least he would only have to pay Reba child support for five more years – until Jake's eighteenth birthday.
Logically Reba knew that Brock and Barbra Jean would have discussed this, but she couldn't think of any other arguments. She was tapped out. Her ex and his wife had been struggling for years, so maybe...maybe this was beyond even her control. "You can't give up," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "Not after everything we've been through. My marriage didn't fail just so ya'll can get divorced less than ten years later."
Tears forming, Reba left her speechless family in the living room and ran upstairs.
Six Months Later
They acted like a new little family. There was the mom, the dad, and the soon-to-be teenager. Too many times a week, Brock would come over for dinner, then the three of them would watch television. She could almost trick herself into believing their divorce had been a crazy dream.
Cheyenne and Van were wrapped up in their own lives, especially now that baby number two took up most of their collective energy. Reba went over to the kids' house often, but she felt like she was in the way. Experienced parents Cheyenne and Van could hold their own. Sure, they accepted Reba's offers to run errands or have Elizabeth sleep over, but if anything she spent more time baby-sitting her grandkids than catching up with their busy parents. That said, Reba did enjoy being a grandmother instead of a second mother. She liked spoiling Elizabeth with toys and homemade cookies, where before she'd be the one to make sure her grandchild got to preschool on time.
After many heated arguments with her family, eighteen-year-old Kyra went on tour with her band for the summer. She pointed out more than once that she was an adult who made her own decisions. The band had been making a modest income from local gigs and concerts, so she didn't need financial support from her parents either. Towards the end she felt guilty about causing them grief, so she agreed to call at least once a week from the tour bus.
Meanwhile, Jake finally had his parents all to himself. The preteen declared this "the best summer ever," biking with his friends when he wasn't choosing which house he wanted to sleep in that night. This included his sister and brother-in-law's house since they paid him to baby-sit when Reba had plans. He did admit to missing Kyra, though he claimed to miss his ex-stepmother more.
He even talked to Barbra Jean when she called, since as they'd all expected, she called her best friend Reba every day. She talked to Reba longer than she did her ex-husband. Things were tense between her and Brock at first, so she kept her conversations with him about Henry and how she'd enrolled him in sports teams for the summer. Eventually she told Reba that she was also happy in her new job. With her focus on her career, she'd started to act slightly less goofy to fit in with her coworkers. That became more important to her since she couldn't socialize with family anymore.
Reba also didn't tell Brock that Barbra Jean was dating again. Not as much as her pre-Brock days now that she was a single mother, but she sometimes went out for a drink after work.
There was still tenseness between Barbra Jean and Brock. Six months later and they still only talked about Henry. Reba didn't say this out loud, but after so many unsuccessful calls, she wondered if the two could transition from lovers to friends. Their relationship had been built on an office fling.
Hanging up the kitchen phone after her daily Barbra Jean call, Reba thought about all this while she prepared dinner for her and Jake...and Brock, if the new tradition continued. Neither she nor Brock saw the point in him rambling around that big house alone. She refused to take care of him when he wasn't her husband, but she felt bad that he'd resort to heat-and-serve "bachelor food" if he didn't eat with her and Jake. Reba also knew that the man fiercely missed his youngest son. Jake was right there, so if Brock could spend time with him, he should.
She was just putting a meatloaf in the oven when Jake walked into the kitchen. If she remembered correctly, this dish happened to be one of Brock's favorites from way back when.
"Hey Mom," Jake said, still wearing his soccer uniform from practice that afternoon. "Is it okay if I ask Dad to come over early today? Maybe we can practice in our backyard before dinner since I have that sleepover at Jimmy's tonight. He got a new video game for his birthday so we're pulling an all-nighter."
Reba held back a laugh, glad that her son was having "the best summer ever." If he wasn't, she'd worry about him almost as much as she had after her own divorce. There'd been a lot of changes in a short amount of time. "An all-nighter, huh?" she asked, mostly teasing. She'd eased up on the minor rules with everything else going on.
Putting on his puppy-dog face, Jake argued, "Jimmy's parents are okay with it as long as we're all out of the house before his parents leave for work in the morning. Please? It's summer!"
"Okay, fine. You can rest up when you get home tomorrow...and maybe read a book after staring at a screen for all those hours." She chuckled to herself when he ran to call his father on the kitchen phone. Brock's meatloaf had been a good choice for the evening after all. Pausing at the counter island, Reba tried to figure out why she was so happy about that. An unsettling feeling formed in her gut when she realized what it was.
She couldn't wait to see Brock's reaction to the meal she'd carefully prepared. He'd told Jake to tell her he was bringing ice cream for dessert and wine for the adults. They would probably share the wine after dessert, after Jake left for the sleepover and they were alone...
Oh Lord. When did she start dating her ex-husband?
Reba wanted him to leave. They'd all had meatloaf, cleared the dishes and served up the ice cream. She and Brock sipped the wine with dinner at her suggestion, her hope being that he wouldn't use it as an excuse to stay. When Jake left for his sleepover, she'd hinted that Brock might want to "get a move on" too. They both had work the next morning.
He ignored her hint. While she pretended to straighten up the kitchen, he helped himself to another glass of wine. "Hey Reba, are you okay?" he asked casually, leaning on the counter. She scrubbed the tile with such vigor that he raised an eyebrow at her. "You seem nervous."
Me? Oh I'm fine, she thought sarcastically. We're just dating, that's all. "It's nothing," Reba fibbed. She'd never admit that he made her nervous. "Look, I know it's been a while, but I'm not used to..."
"What?" He kept his eyes on her now, the glass of wine resting on the counter.
The focused attention made her put down the sponge she'd been holding. "This! Us!" she exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at the wine bottle on the table. "Having a drink together! I mean, doesn't it seem weird to you?"
"No, not especially," Brock said, turning towards her. She began pacing the kitchen. "We've been getting close again these last few years, right? I thought it was nice."
"Hold on now, just because I said it's 'weird' doesn't mean..."
"And I thought it was nice that you didn't hate me anymore."
Reba stopped pacing. Her hands on her hips, she let out a deep sigh before sitting down on the stool next to him. "I never hated you, Brock..." At his dubious expression, she grinned. "Well, maybe a little bit at first. In the last few years I have forgiven you. I think, after a while, our digs at each other became part of our relationship. Now it feels more natural to take shots at you and blame you for everything wrong with my life."
Her confession stunned him. He arched his back and rested his elbows on the island, quiet for a minute while he processed it. "You mean I'm not responsible for everything wrong with your life?" he teased. She narrowed her eyes at him in her famous "be serious" glare. "So what were you blaming me for besides the obvious? I thought you were happy enough."
"Happy enough," she repeated. He nodded, catching on. "I have a career, and I'm grateful. But I don't have a life of my own. I've been so busy taking care of you all that I'm alone now. And I think that's how I liked it because nothing was ever my fault."
"Wow." He let the silence go on for another half a minute, cautiously leaving his hand on top of hers on the counter. "That's why you're anxious tonight? You're not happy?"
Noting their touching hands, she inched hers away. "Sort of. I realized that...we're too close, Brock. I'm scared that our situation is sending mixed messages - uh, to Jake, you know? And I started thinking that maybe we wouldn't be in this situation if I had more of a life." She'd reached this humbling conclusion watching her son and his father play soccer in the backyard. Her thoughts circled around what she wanted, how she felt about this new arrangement...
Brock's eyes locked with hers. "What if they weren't mixed messages?"
"What are you -"
Then he kissed her.
Their lips pressing together felt eerily familiar, and not as wrong as she would have expected. Reba's brain scrambled for a single reason why this shouldn't happen, but despite her best efforts, she kept coming up empty.
Hell, she was kissing Brock. Shouldn't that be enough of a reason?
Reba pulled away and jumped off her stool, wiping her lips and her memory of what just happened. They could never go back there again. "Brock! What in God's name was that?" Her hands went back on her hips. "What were you thinking?"
Also jumping from his seat, Brock held up his hands in self-defense. "I'm sorry, I thought it was the right moment!"
"There's never a 'right moment' for that, you mo-ron! You're -"
"What, single?" he retorted. Brock smirked when she couldn't argue with that one. "Not the same guy you divorced six years ago? I know it sounds crazy, but it occurred to me that us getting back together might not be worst idea in the world."
As her breathing slowed and her heart returned to its normal rate, Reba knew she wouldn't get through to Brock by yelling at him. Years of being married to him taught her that. She had to approach this with sound, undeniable logic. "Let's take a step back here, okay? This is gonna get messy real quick - hell, it's already messy. We can't do this. You're not over your divorce yet, and there's children involved. What if whatever we start doesn't work out? Brock, we've always had a strong bond, but we might not be able to survive a divorce and a break-up."
Disappointed, Brock picked up the previously-forgotten wine glass and swirled it around. He looked like he was debating whether to argue more or move past the incident as soon as possible. "For the record, I promise you that I'm over my divorce. Sometimes I wonder if I ever loved Barbra Jean as much as I loved you."
Well. Past Reba might have yearned to hear those words, but in the present, she could barely stomach them. Inexplicable guilt crept up, making her wonder if she was the reason Brock and Barbra Jean didn't make it. The irony wasn't lost on her either. Even though Barbra Jean ruined her marriage, Reba refused to believe that she'd inadvertently ruined Barbra Jean's. Brock had a responsibility to be honest about his feelings. "You're not over your divorce, Brock," she said, a sudden lump in her throat. "Your emotions are still raw. That's why you're thinking these things. Maybe it all makes sense to you right now, but we can't do this just because you want to be with someone."
About to argue, Brock closed his mouth, then started again. "I'm not good on my own, Reba," he confessed, finally taking a sip of the wine. "Being alone in that house made me realize I can't be alone. The romance is a major part of it, but...I've accepted that I can't live my life unless someone's there telling me how."
Oh, don't say that, Reba thought miserably, wishing she also had a glass of wine. He was saying all the things he should have said before their divorce. If he'd admitted this at the right time, there might not have been a Barbra Jean. Brock really had changed in the last six years, like everyone else in their family. She just couldn't give in when there were so much potential for disaster. "We have to think about this. We have to think about this a lot. We have to decide if we really want a relationship, how serious we want that relationship to be, and how much we're telling the kids." She glared at him. "And if the time comes, you're telling Barbra Jean."
The unpleasant task made him pause, but only for a second. Brock pushed off the stool and walked over to her. "I don't care. There's hope for us."
He kissed her again. This one was slower, with even more passion than before. His arms wrapped around her waist while she put her hands on his shoulders. Had it really been six years since they'd last done this?
Had it really been six years since he left her for another woman?
"Brock..." She said through the kiss, pulling herself away and stepping back. "We both need space for a while. You can practice soccer with Jake at your house."
Though reluctant, he nodded, scratching the back of his head on his way to the back door. He turned to her as he opened it. "Since we're both thinking, think about this. Why will the two of us be alone tonight, even though we've been divorced for six years?"