Walk The Line
It had been a crazy week for mother of three and grandmother of one, Reba Hart. She was dealing with the pressures of work, Barbra Jean's annoying hourly calls regarding her divorce to Brock, the plumbing was acting up, Van and Cheyenne were trying to adjust to living alone, Kyra was dealing with deciding to go to college, and Jake was entering high school, poor boy, plus she had to train an intern, Shayla, at her office. Reba was the go-between to everybody. Trying to make peace and make sure everybody lived in complete harmony. She tried her best but it was getting the best of her.
Sighing and thinking about all she had to do that day, Reba turned to her computer. She had gone into the office to work today to try and get away from her crazy home life and so far it was working. Until Shayla walked up that is.
"Mrs. Hart?" The preppy blonde asked.
Shayla stood at a petite five foot three, had platinum blonde curls, rosy red lips, and a curvy body that made her just gorgeous. The only problem was that she was as annoying as hell.
"Yes?" Reba asked impatiently, not looking away from her computer.
"I have something for you. Mr. McKenzie instructed me to give you this." She held out a folder.
Reba took it and chunked it in the trash can before turning back to her computer.
Shayla let out a nervouse laugh. "You just threw that away." She pointed at the garbage can.
"Yeah?"
"Why did you throw it away?"
"Because it's trash."
"How do you know?"
Reba turned around in her swivel chair. "Because I've worked here long enough to know what trash looks like."
"Oh."
"Mm-hmm."
Shayla tucked a curl behind her ear. "Well, okay then. I guess I'll go make those copies you asked me to make yesterday."
Reba unconsciously rolled her eyes and nodded. "Okay. I'll be here." She turned back to her computer.
Shayla left and Reba went back to looking over houses online. She had been in the middle of writing a formal email to a client whe she heard Shayla's voice again.
"Mrs. Hart?"
Reba sighed and turned around. "What is it now?"
"You have a phone call on line two." She pointed to the black phone that rested on Reba's desk. The light was blinking.
"Okay," Reba said. Shayla stood there, staring at her. "You can go now," Reba urged.
"Oh, right!" She grinned and walked away.
Just like Barbra Jean, Reba thought as she picked up the phone and pressed the button. "Reba Hart," She said into the receiver.
"Hello, Mrs. Hart," A deep, male voice said. "I'm Dr. Robert McCrane with Houston Medical Center."
"Yes?" She said. Were they trying to get more money from her? She hadn't been to the hospital since she fainted from her high blood pressure at Van and Cheyenne's vow renewal. "How can I help you?"
"Well," The doctor said. "I'm with the pediatric division. Your son, Jake Hart, was admitted to the E.R. five minutes ago by his baseball coach."
Reba gasped and was already on her feet, keys in hand when she asked, "Is he alright?"
"No," Dr. McCrane said softly. "I'm afraid not. You'd better get down here."
Brock stood quietly in his office taking pictures of Barbra Jean off his desk. The divorce hadn't been easy for either of them but it had been hardest on him. She seemed to be getting along just fine with her new life in Little Rock. She, of course, had taken Henry with him and Brock missed that little boy like crazy. Missed his laugh, his smile, everything. He just wished his life would settle down and stop changing.
Sighing, he put another picture into the half full box on his desk. This one was of him and Barbra Jean at a concert two years ago when they were trying to work out their problems. Needless to say, it hadn't worked. Nothing worked. The therapy, the counseling, the trips away from everybody, nothing helped and they had finally given up.
It was for the best, He thought to himself as he continued to fill up the box. Everything happens for a reason.
He shook his head. That was stupid thinking. The divorce shouldn't have happened and he knew it. The only reason he thought like that was because Reba had pounded it into his head nonstop. She cared about him as a friend and he knew she was just trying to help. But he needed to get away from her. It wasn't helping the feelings he continued to feel for her. Now that he was divorced, he could date again and she was fair game. He constantly wondered if she would give him a second chance.
Probably not, He thought. She has no reason to want me back. I did her wrong. So very wrong. I wouldn't give me another chance if I were her.
But that thought was still in the back of his mind. The thougth of being with her again, loving her again. Maybe if he played his cards right and showed her he was willing, they could have another chance at a wonderful life together.
He smiled at the thought but his thoughts were soon interrupted by his phone ringing.
All my exes live in-
"Hello?" He answered.
"Brock! Thank God!"
It was Reba. She sounded like she was crying.
"Reba? Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"It's Jake. He's hurt!"
"What? He's hurt?"
"Yes! He's at the hospital!"
He could barely understand her. "Reba? Are you listening?"
"Mm-hmm," She mumbled through the tears.
"Okay. What in the world is wrong? Speak slowly."
"Jake is at the emergency room," She said. She was starting to hyperventilate.
"Okay," Brock said calmly. "Where are you?"
"I'm at the hospital but they won't let me see him!" She began to cry uncontrollably.
Brock was already out into the parking lot and getting into his car at this point. "Okay," He told her. "It's going to be okay. I'm on my way now."
"Okay."
"Alright. You see if you can find out what's wrong and I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Okay."
"Okay. Stay calm. I love you. Bye." He hung up and froze. What did he just say? Had he said he loved her. Oh, God, He thought. I really hope she didn't hear me. He put his head down on the steering wheel as he stopped at a red light. How could he be so stupid. How could he just blurt out his personal feelings. Feelings that he really shouldn't be feeling in the first place.
Maybe she didn't hear me, He thought as the light turned green. She's in hysterics and probably wasn't even paying attention. He sighed and ferverently prayed that she hadn't heard him. It was too soon to be saying things like that.
Ten minutes later, he pulled into the Emergency Room parking lot and rushed in. The place was full of crying kids, crying adults, crying babies, everyone was crying and in pain; especially a certain redheaded woman over by the nurse's station. He rushed to her and caught some of her conversation to the nurse.
"He is my son," She was saying. "Why won't you let me see him?"
The African-American nurse just calmly took a breath. "Ma'am," She said. "He's being examined. You can't go see him. When the doctor is done checking and making sure he's stable, we will let you know and then you can see him."
Brock came up behind Reba and placed his hands on her shoulders. She turned around. "Oh! Brock! Thank God!" She let the tears roll down her face as she held onto his shoulders. "They won't let me see my baby!"
"Ma'am," The nurse said again. "I already explained why you-"
Reba cut her off, turning to her. "Do you have children?"
"What?" The nurse asked.
"I said do you have children?"
"Yes, ma'am, I do but-"
"Wouldn't you want to see your baby if he was hurt and you didn't know a thing about what happened?"
"Well, yes, ma'am, I would, but I understand the policies of the hospital."
"Policies? My little boy is hurt!"
"I understand that, ma'am. You will have to wait out here though."
"Reba," Brock said quietly. Reba turned to him. "You have to wait out here," He said sternly. More tears welled up in her eyes.
"But," She said quietly. "He's my baby."
Just then, a voice sounded behind them. "Mrs. Hart?" It called.
Reba immediately turned around and Brock saw a young doctor with a shaved head and a long white coat approach them. "Yes?" Reba said. "That's me. Is Jake okay? Can I see him now?"
"Uh, not just yet," The doctor said. His name tag read Dr. Michael McCrane. "I need to speak with you first." He turned to Brock. "Is this your husband?"
"Yes," Brock said. He froze again and shook his head. "I mean, no. I'm her ex-husband. But I'm Jake's father."
No one seemed to notice the slip. "Alright," Dr. McCrane said, looking over a chart. "Mr. and Ms. Hart, your son received a blow to the head by a baseball. The ball was thrown from about fifteen feet away and it hit him in the temple. His baseball coach brought him in explaining that one of Jake's teammates had thrown the ball towards Jake but Jake didn't react and it hit him. His coach is in waiting room 3 if you'd like to speak with him."
"Of course," Brock said.
"But is Jake okay?" Reba asked impatiently. Until now, Brock hadn't noticed that Reba was clutching his hand for dear life.
Dr. McCrane sighed and looked at his chart. "Ms. Hart," He said. "I'm afraid not. He's slipped into a coma."
Reba went straight to the floor.
Okay. For those of you that have already read Walk The Line, this was probably pretty boring. More than likely, I'll be posting everyday, so for those of you that haven't read it, you'll get a new update without having to wait long. Either way, please review!
