Reba: Houston, We Have a Problem Chapter 1

Reba sat on the sofa and opened yet another silver chafing dish from one of Parker's wealthy clients. Again, she got a knot in the pit of her stomach. As Parker 's wife, she would be expected to give elegant dinner parties for the social elite in Houston. That's what Parker did. He assured her that she would have professional help, but it still unnerved her.

She took a notecard with her initials on it out of the drawer in the coffee table and picked up a pen, writing the thank you note immediately so she wouldn't forget. Parker's friends were gracious and sweet to her as soon as she met them. She didn't know why she had always assumed rich people were snobby. These people opened their arms to her and accepted her immediately.

Parker was well-known in social circles. He was on the board of many non-profits in Houston and had given mounds of money to many different causes, both cultural and social.

Reba had been his dates to many exclusive fund-raisers and charity events in the past year. She was even being groomed for many of the positions on non-profit boards. Reba was a fast learner, she already had real estate connections with some of the people, she loved the idea of getting to help others, and she was always up for a challenge.

Plus, she loved Parker. The kissing had improved – somewhat – but that was not important to Reba. Parker was a truly nice guy. He was well-respected, humble, brilliant, witty, and he adored her. He had proposed at an intimate five-star restaurant on her birthday. They had set the date for the second Saturday in October to avoid the heat and humidity of Houston and to be able to take advantage of slightly cooler temps in Fiji, where they would be spending their month-long honeymoon.

Cheyenne came down the stairs and sat down at the dining room table where Reba had put all the presents.

"It's so weird that they're giving you presents," said Cheyenne, "When both have you have been married before. I mean, it's not like you're starting from scratch."

"Well," said Reba. "I sort of am. I have nothing in my kitchen now that I will need to entertain the Board of the Pediatric Aids Foundation, which I am scheduled to do two months from tomorrow night."

"Oh, I just remembered, the seamstress will have your dress ready at 2PM tomorrow," said Cheyenne.

"That's cutting it close. Yikes! Who picks up their wedding dress only 24 hours before their wedding? But no one else could get it done until next week, when we'll be on our honeymoon. If it's not exactly right, I'll be very angry."

"Hey, you're the one that dropped twenty pounds."

Reba shrugged. "Parker likes me skinny. I guess I'm just living on love."

"Nerves is more like it. You need to eat something. We can't have you passing out at the wedding."

Kyra trotted in full Gothic dress mode. "Cheyenne, you can't force someone to eat who is truly not hungry."

Cheyenne pursed her lips. "Kyra, I told you to go put on something more appropriate. We have important people dropping by all the time bringing presents. Sadly, none of them are for me, but I'm sure Mom will let me have some of them…"

She looked hopefully at Reba, who looked up at the ceiling as if to pray for patience, and then sighed. "Cheyenne, I don't care if someone thinks Kyra's dress is inappropriate. Of course it is. That's her point. She can wear her depressing duds all she wants at home, but she has to wear what I want at the wedding. We have a deal."

"You let her get away with everything," said Cheyenne. "When I was her age, I never wore inappropriate clothing."

Kyra shot back, "Right, you just got knocked up, got married, and brought your new husband and baby here for her to support. Give me a break. I'm going over to Dad's for a while. He and Jake are grilling steaks. I miss having meat around here."

"Oh, stop it with your complaining about Parker's vegetarian phase. He'll get over it," said Reba.

"Dad never went through a vegetarian phase in his whole life. It was great the way he used to paint Worchestershire sauce and lemon juice on the steaks before flipping them," said Kyra dreamily.

Cheyenne frowned. "Stop talking about Dad as if he were dead."

"He might as well be in this house," said Kyra.

"That would be fine with me," said Reba. "His behavior the past six months since I've been dating Parker has been like a two year old." She opened another present. It was shaped like a football, but was made out of glazed clay and had a stopper on the bottom. "What in heaven's name…?"

Kyra grabbed the card that was in the box. "It says, 'Genuine Alabama clay. Roll Tide! From Ted and Betty Guthrie.' Mom, it's a bank. They gave you a football bank." Kyra doubled over in laughter.

Cheyenne turned up her nose as if someone had stepped in dog poop. "Ugh! Who are these people?"

Reba closed her eyes and giggled. "These are probably past clients of Parker's who think he's their best friend. They weren't on the guest list. Probably just heard through the grapevine and this is a really fine gift to them."

Kyra grabbed the pen and one of the notecards. "Oh, Mom, please let me write the thank-you!"

Reba snatched them from her. "Not on your life, Little Missy. Now, these people are probably dirt poor and didn't get past the third grade. You are not going to take advantage of that. Go over to your dad's. If you had your way you'd have every one of Parker's friends livid with us and he would call off the wedding."

"See? She won't even say Dad's name," Kyra said to Cheyenne. Then she realized what Reba had said and said hopefully, "Do you really think he would call it off?"

Reba ignored her. "Is Van picking up Denver and Elizabeth from preschool?"

Cheyenne looked at her watch. "Yes, right about now. I had to call him four times to remind him."

"You never had to remind Dad about us," said Kyra.

"Kyra, go away," said Cheyenne. Kyra strolled to the door, "Hey, mom, isn't Parker supposed to be here by now?"

"Yeah, and he's never late anywhere. I'm starting to get worried," said Reba.

"Oh, he called an hour ago and said he'd meet us at the stables," said Kyra.

Reba glared at Kyra. "Thanks for the update," she said as she jumped up and ran upstairs to put on jeans and boots.

Cheyenne looked at Kyra. "I thought you were going, too."

"I am, I just don't like to appear to be serious about it. And the horses don't care what I wear, just so nothing sticks them. You going?"

Cheyenne wrinkled her nose. "Have I ever?"

Kyra picked up an apple from the basket of fruit on the kitchen counter. "Mom and Dad were getting along so well until Parker came along again. He messed it all up. Mom is so mean about Dad now."

Cheyenne shrugged. "Well, he said some ugly things about Parker. I would have been mean too."

"Did Mom really pown Dad?"

"Kyra, I do not care to discuss this with you."

"Okay, then why are she and Van also fighting?"

Cheyenne sighed. "I guess you might as well know. Van told Mom that he wasn't paying for our kids' education, that they would have to pay for it themselves. Mom thought that was his way of saying she had to pay for it. And then, he went on several business trips without me and she thought that was terrible. I mean, he didn't have affairs or anything, but it has been a long time since I've been out of Houston, and the company would have paid for it. But it's okay; I'm over it. Nobody's perfect."

Kyra jingled her keys. "But still, not inviting your own son-in-law to your wedding is pretty harsh. How do you deal with it?"

"They will work through it eventually, I guess. I decided it was best for me to just be her daughter and not worry about Van not being here. He doesn't want to come anyway. Parker isn't his favorite person in the world."

Kyra paused a minute in her jingling. "Since she's been dating Parker, Mom's sort of…hardened, hasn't she?"

Cheyenne thought. "Hmmm, well, you know Mom's always set really high standards for herself and expects others to do the same."

"Tell Mom I'll meet her at the stables. Hey, can I have some of those notecards?" asked Kyra.

Cheyenne opened the door and pushed her out. "Go away, Kyra!"

Jake sat under a tree outside a barn reading In Touch magazine with the latest starlet on the cover. Reba and Kyra saw him and, grabbing a Baby Ruth bar, Reba sneaked over to him with Kyra behind her.

She placed the candy bar near his ear and tore the paper gently.

The magazine lowered to reveal Jake, his eyes closed, with a blissful smile on his face. He turned his head toward the candy and saw his mom. "Oh, hi."

"Doing your homework I see," said Reba. "You know, the girls at your high school won't come near you if you expect them to look like that." She pointed at a young teenaged movie star.

"Don't be so sure," said Jake. "Kaylie Poole has been making eyes at me in Calculus for a week."

"You need to stop looking at her eyes and look at your work so you can get that C up to at least a B." She stood up. "Oh, who can that handsome guy over there be?"

Kyra glanced at Parker and said, "Who, that Michael J. Fox wannabe?"

"Watch it, Kyra. I have a hammer that could ruin your favorite amplifier."

Parker strolled up in brand-new jeans, brand-new expensive-looking ornate cowboy boots, and an Abercrombie and Fitch shirt. Kyra had to cover her mouth to hide her smirk at his obvious newbie look.

Reba gave him a hug and peck on the cheek. "Parker, you are cute as always but your clothes need to change."

"What do you mean? I just bought these specifically for riding horses!"

"Yep, that's what I mean. Gotta get rid of the new." She tackled him right then and rubbed dirt all over him.

"What the…?" Parker protested.

"I am not having my fiancé look like one of those headless mannequins at American Eagle. There."

They stood up and Parker brushed off. "Well, I guess…thanks." Then he saw Jake's magazine. "Hey, is there anything in here about our wedding?" He grabbed it from Jake.

Jake held out his hands as if to say, "What did he just do?"

Reba looked incredulous. "What? Our wedding in In Touch? Why would it be?"

Parker shrugged as he thumbed through it. "I have a few famous clients who know some people at that publisher. And with In Touch now vying for the local markets instead of just the nationals, I thought there might be a chance…"

"Heaven forbid," said Reba. "I do not want our special day trotted out for the paparazzi like so many pictures of Britney Spears' latest life mistake."

She took the magazine from Parker and opened it. "Look at this – 'Brad Sparks, husband of Houston mayor Helen Sparks, fixes her coffee in the breakfast nook of their vintage 1960s home.' How tacky can you get?" She threw the magazine down on the ground.

"But," said Parker, "What if I decided to go into politics?"

"Politics? You? Oh, my gosh, you'd become President," said Reba, kissing him again on the cheek and smoothing his hair. "You're so charismatic they wouldn't care what your agenda was."

"Just what we need," said Jake to Kyra. "The leader of the free world who spends more time on his hair than on foreign policy."

"No," said Parker to Reba, "I mean how would you handle the publicity that comes with that?"

"They could talk to us in public. Reporters would have no place in our house," said Reba. "At one time I thought that would be fun, to be a celebrity. Now I think it would be a nuisance."

Kyra picked up the magazine and handed it back to Jake, who mounted his horse. She mumbled, "If he became president, I'd move to Canada." She took a running jump and lept onto her mare from behind. Reba threw her leg over like an old pro and waited for Parker. He had much more difficulty but refused help.

Kyra said, "Maybe we should get him a pony."

Jake and Reba both said, "Shut up, Kyra."

The horse skittered around after Parker finally got up. "This horse seems nervous. Maybe I should ride another one," he said.

Kyra gave him a look. "She's not a go-cart. You can't just go choose another whenever you want."

"That's enough, Kyra," said Reba. Reba walked her horse over to Parker's and petted her. "Daisy, I'll give you some carrots when we're done, okay, girl?"

Reba and Parker walked on. Jake looked at Kyra. "Hoo, boy," he said.