Hello again! This is an idea I've actually had for a while, but I had to wait until they showed the "And the Grammy goes to…" episode again. Anyway, this scene picks up right where Brock has denied still being in love with Reba. If you haven't seen the episode, Brock's mom comes for a visit and reveals that Brock told her he's still in love with Reba, but it turns out he had told her that two years ago while they were still going through the divorce. Anyway, I didn't like how that turned out, so I thought I'd just add a little scene of my own! Here we go!
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
"So you've been sitting here thinking that I'm like, what, madly in love with you," Brock asked, his voice breaking up with laughter. He saw that angry glaze come over Reba's eyes as she looked at him.
"Nobody ever mentioned madly, Brock! Madly never came up," Reba replied defensively, to which he merely scoffed.
"It will when I tell the story," he joked, chuckling at the cold stare she gave him. He always did love to bring her passionate side out.
"You wouldn't dare," she challenged. Brock gave her a sly smile.
"Oh I would," he assured her. "As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure Barbara Jean's not busy right now, maybe I should give her a call and…" he walked over towards the direction of the phone, but Reba pulled him roughly back by his arm to prevent him. Pained seared through his shoulder, indicating that he had gotten her angrier than he intended.
"Don't you tell anyone, you butt!"
"Why not? It's a funny story," he justified, shaking his arm loose from her tight grasp. For her size, she was amazingly strong.
"It's not funny to me! Now just be on your way and we'll forget this ever happened!" At this command, Brock's notoriously short-temper flared.
"What makes you think you have the right to tell me what to do," he demanded to know. Reba scoffed.
"Maybe because you're a mo-ron," she retorted, glaring at him with her arms crossed angrily in front of her. Brock sighed in annoyance.
"I can't talk to you when you're like this!"
"Good! As a matter of fact, pretend I'm like this all the time and we won't have a problem!"
"Fine! But I'm really starting to see what drove me to the arms of Barbara Jean!" After he said this, Brock's hand immediately flew to cover his mouth and his angry look was replaced by one of regret. He knew he had gone too far with that last comment, and the pain that flashed over his ex-wife's eyes confirmed it. It had been more than a year since the divorce, but both knew without having to tell one another that the cause of their break-up was a sensitive issue and not one to be used as an insult.
"Reba, I didn't mean…" he began to apologize, but she didn't seem to want to hear any of it. Instead she shook her head and motioned toward the door.
"Just go," she said angrily, but Brock knew her well enough to detect the trace of hurt in her voice. He tried to come up with something to say to her to amend his statement, but he couldn't think of anything on the spot. Instead, he sullenly turned around and walked out the door.
When he finally arrived home, he walked through the front door to find his mother sitting on the couch in the living room calmly reading a magazine.
"Hey Brock, I hope you don't mind but I caught a ride with Cheyenne. I've been trying to call you for a while now, where have you been," she asked curiously, though only glancing up briefly before returning her attention back to the magazine. She didn't even notice the cold, angry stare he gave her as he stood in the doorway, gripping the knob so hard his knuckles turned white.
"I was at Reba's having a nice little chat," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your name came up." It took Brock's mother a second before she realized what he was referring to. She froze mid-page flip and glanced at him sheepishly.
"Oh," she said as she set the magazine aside. "Well, I guess I better be getting ready to go out for dinner." She was about to get up when Brock stopped her.
"You're not going anywhere," he ordered as he charged toward her and slammed the door behind him.
"Ssshhh! Henry's taking a nap," his mother informed him, but he just ignored her.
"How could you tell her, mom?! How could you tell Reba about what I told you last week when I specifically asked you not too?!"
"Well I had to! Especially after talking with your new wife!"
"This is serious, mom," he told her with a stern look. "If I wanted Reba to know I'm still in love with her, I would have told her!"
"Well then why don't you," she asked simply. Brock rolled his eyes.
"I can't anymore! Things are different now!"
"And who's fault is that," his mother retorted. Brock opened his mouth to reply, but instead sighed when he realized she was right. He flopped down on the couch next to her and ran his hand through his sandy blonde hair.
"Mom, I asked you to keep it a secret," he said in a somewhat tired tone.
"I'm sorry, honey," she replied, "but I was just trying to do what I thought was best for you. You deserve to be with the woman you love."
"But I am with the woman I love," Brock argued.
"I mean the woman you really love," his mother retorted.
"Hey, I really love Barbara Jean," he cried indignantly.
"But not as much as you love Reba," Elizabeth Hart pointed out. Brock smirked.
"Mom, sometimes I think Barbara Jean loves Reba more than she loves me," he told her, prompting an eye roll from his mother.
"I'm serious Brock! I know you love Reba more than Bobby Jo…"
"Barbara Jean," he amended with annoyance.
"Whatever," his mother replied with a wave of her hand, "I can see it when you're around Reba. You're happier." At that statement, Brock jumped up from his seat.
"That's…" he began to argue forcefully, but as he stared into his mother's eyes, they seemed to bore into him and read his very thoughts. He turned from her gaze and concluded with less vigor. "That's not true." There was a moment of silence as Elizabeth stared at her son's back. Finally, she spoke.
"Brock, answer me this honestly," she paused briefly, "if you had met them both at the same time, who would you have chosen?"
Brock whirled around, his mouth agape from the audacity of the question, but something in his mother's eyes told him that she wasn't leaving without getting an answer. He began to think for a second, picturing himself in college and standing in front of his wife and ex-wife, both equally beautiful and charming, but he still had to choose only one of them. After a brief moment of consideration, he finally sighed.
"I would have chosen Reba," he admitted, his eyes shining with seriousness. His mother nodded as if she knew the answer all along.
"Then you have to tell her," she started up again, causing Brock to groan.
"Mother, I told you I can't!"
"And why not?!"
"Because I've screwed things up enough for her already. She doesn't want me back in her life! Besides, Barbara Jean needs me! Reba's gotten along just fine without me and I'm sure it'll continue to be that way."
"Of course she's gotten along without you," she cried, rising from her seat and marching over to him. "She didn't have a choice! What did you expect her to do, roll over and die when you left? She had to go on! But that doesn't mean she didn't need you, or that she still doesn't!"
"And how would you know that?!"
"Because when you're not being a jerk to her, she looks at you exactly the way you look at her!" At this, the passion that had been flashing in Brock's eyes quelled and was replaced by confusion. His mother place a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Son, I've seen the way you stare at her sometimes, with love and affection, and that's exactly the way she stares back at you during the good moments. I can see how you two long for each other; it's just the matter of you two not seeing it."
Brock was silent for a moment as he mulled over her words. After a while, he finally came to the conclusion that she was right; she just had to be. There was only one woman besides Reba who knew him better than he knew himself, and that was his mother.
"It's too late, mom. Even if that had been my opportunity to tell Reba, I blew it."
"Why, what did you tell her to weasel you're way out of the situation?"
"I told her that I had told you I loved her two years ago during the divorce," he replied, a proud smile spreading across his face. "You're lucky I'm a good liar."
"Oh yes," his mother retorted sarcastically. "It's always been a dream of mine to have a son who could lie so easily to the people he loves."
Brock glared at her and was about to shoot out something clever in return, when who else but Reba should walk through his front door. He whirled around to face her and felt his cheeks flush, as if she had been standing there listening to their secret conversation the whole time.
"Reba," he called out, but his only acknowledgement from her was a slight glance before she bypassed him and walked over to his mother. Pain stung his heart as he realized she was stilling hurting from his comment.
"Elizabeth, I just came to drop off your purse. You left it at our house," she said as she handed Brock's mom her bag. Elizabeth smiled appreciatively and flung it over her shoulder.
"Thank you, dear. That was very kind of you," she said, prompting a gracious smile from Reba. That having been done, an awkward silence followed, none of them really knowing what to say.
"Well," Reba finally spoke up. "I guess I'll see you two later. Don't forget to drop by to say goodbye to the kids before you leave." She whirled around and was about to dash out the door when Brock placed himself in front of her.
"Reba, wait!"
"I don't really feel like talking to you right now, Brock," she replied, her tone somewhere between angry and exasperated. She prepared to go around him, but he placed his hands on her shoulders to prevent her.
"Reba, please just hear me out," he begged her, gazing straight into her eyes to communicate his seriousness. He paused for a moment to see if she would shrug his hands off her shoulders and run away, but when she didn't he gained confidence and continued.
"Reba, I didn't mean to say that awful thing to you earlier. I didn't mean it at all. The only thing that drove me to Barbara Jean was my own selfishness."
"You got that right," she interjected under her breath. Brock gazed at her with exasperation.
"Can I finish please," he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone. Reba rolled her eyes and nodded.
"Good! What I was going to say was," he drew in a deep breath, "I know I hurt you Reba, not just with that comment, but with just everything I've done the past couple of years. You're a wonderful woman, and you don't deserve any of it," then with his voice full of emotion, he added, "I can't say enough how sorry I am."
Reba was beginning to grow uncomfortable with the intimate moment between her and her ex-husband, but one look at the sincerity in his eyes and all other thoughts and emotions slipped away. Without another word, she wrapped her arms around his neck and enveloped him in a hug. Brock gladly returned the favor and wrapped his arms around her waist, losing himself in the scent of her soft, red hair. He had always loved to hold her like this; they just seemed to fit so well together, like two pieces of a puzzle.
If he could have, Brock would have stayed in that position for the rest of time, but one look over at his mother's 'I-told-you-so' stare and reality came crashing in around him. Reba wasn't his wife anymore, he let her go, and he had no right to hold her like that. She must have read his mine, because the instant he began to pull away, she did too. Both took a couple of steps apart and gazed at each other, trying to read what the other one was thinking. Finally, Brock gave up.
"So we okay?"
"Yeah, we're okay," Reba replied with a nod. Then without so much as another word to either of them, she turned around and walked quickly out the door. Brock stared after her for a bit, wishing he could hold her longer, but quickly shook his head of those improper thoughts. He turned around to find his mother closer to him then he expected and jumped back a bit. His hand flew over his heart as he took a couple of breaths.
"Geez, you scared me!"
"Still think I'm wrong about telling her," she asked in a motherly, all-knowing tone. Brock groaned and threw up his hands in exasperation.
"Mom, how many times do I have to say this? Things are different now. I have a whole other life now with Barbara Jean! And a happy one at that!"
"It would be even happier if you were with the one you loved," his mother pointed out.
"I am with the one I love."
"Brock, there's a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. You may love Barbara Jean…"
"Hey, you finally got her name right," Brock interjected, causing his mother to smack him on the arm.
"Let me finish! You may love Barbara Jean, but I know you're in love with Reba. Am I right?"
"No!"
"Brock!"
"Okay, fine," he relented. "You're right! I'm in love with Reba! I always have been! There! Are you happy?"
"I don't know, are you," his mother retorted, folding her arms across her chest. Brock calmed down a bit and sighed.
"Mom, you don't have to worry about me. I'll learn to love Barbara Jean just as much as I love Reba, okay?"
"It doesn't work that way, son. You're either in love with someone or you're not. You can't learn to fall in love with a person!"
"Yeah, well, it's not like I can just abandon my new wife and baby and go crawling back to the woman I cheated on either! This is the choice I made and I'm going to live with it. I'm not making the same mistake twice, Mom, and I'm sure as hell not putting another person through the pain I put Reba through!" At this outburst, his mother's frustration subsided and she seemed like she finally began to understand what her son had been trying to tell her all along.
"I don't think I could live with that, Mom. And I know that if I go back to Reba, I would probably just end up hurting her again. And I know without a doubt I couldn't live with that." At the last statement, Brock's voice grew husky with emotion, and he spun around to hide the tears that were glistening in his eyes. As he began taking deep breaths to quell them, he felt his mother come up behind him.
"Oh Brock, I just want you to be happy is all," she explained to him. Brock turned around and gazed at her.
"I will be happy, Mom. As long as I'm here surrounded by the people I love and I'm not hurting any of them, I'm happy."
"I guess I just love you too much is what it is," she added with a smile, which her son returned warmly.
"That ain't possible," he corrected her, "and I love you too, mom." He wrapped his arms around her and embraced her tightly, feeling his mother's tears fall onto his shoulder as she hugged him in return. It was during this touching moment that Barbara Jean walked in from downstairs.
"Hey you two," she called out. "You ready to go to dinner?"
"We sure are," Elizabeth replied, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She then took a moment to eye Barbara Jean up and down.
"Is that what you're wearing," she asked sardonically. Barbara Jean's bright smile was replaced with a look of uneasiness as she gazed down and her rather fluorescent pink evening dress. She smiled wanly and curtsied for her mother-in-law.
"I'll go change," she cried, and was about to bolt back upstairs when Brock stopped her.
"Barbara Jean! Mother's just teasing you. You look fine! Let's go!"
"Are you sure, Brock? Because I have this other dress that I could wear. Of course that would mean I would have to change bras…" Brock could see his wife was going to do that thing she did where she shared too much information, so he gently guided her out the door.
"Barbara Jean, just go wait in the car with my mother and I'll lock up, okay?" She looked uneasily over in her mother-in-law's direction and sighed.
"Okay," she relented, trudging out the door with Brock's mother close behind. Brock sighed as he heard his mother throw out clever little insults to his wife on the way to the car. He was definitely not looking forward to an entire evening of that.
Brock began his usual routine of scanning the house, making sure all the windows were secured and setting the alarm before he left, all the while replaying the conversation he just had with his mother. She had made some very good points, and made him realize his love for Reba was stronger than he estimated. But he also knew for a fact that he had been right as well. There was no way he could go back to her, not after all he had put her through. Sure she would forgive him and eventually trust him again, for that was just the kind of wonderful person she was, but he didn't think he could ever be able to forgive himself for hurting her in the first place. As of then, he was always overcome with guilt every time he saw her, and they weren't even a couple! He couldn't imagine being able to hold her and kiss her the way he used to without feeling like he didn't deserve it at all.
Brock sighed as he punched in the code for the alarm and headed to the front door. Nope, he was doomed to live with the choice he made for the rest of his life, which he had to admit, wasn't all together a horrible thing. His new son was growing up more and more everyday and he knew Barbara Jean loved him with all her heart. And who knows? Maybe one day he would be able to say the same thing about her.
Or maybe not, he amended as he discovered Reba left the scent of her perfume on his jacket from when they hugged. As he took in the familiar scent, equally familiar feelings came rushing back full force, feelings of love, trust, and adoration.
His mother was right. He would never truly be able to say he was in love with Barbara Jean, for that position was reserved for the one he never stopped loving in the first place, but he knew without a doubt that he did love her in a way. They would make a happy life together, which is all Brock could really ask.
Sorry if there are any grammar mistakes, I was too tired to proofread seeing as how it's one in the morning and all. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this oneshot and reviews are greatly appreciated! Bye now!