Reba stood at the stove and flipped two eggs while yawning. She heard Brock's shoes come down the stairs, walk through the living room and towards the coffee pot.

"I already poured you a cup." She said, not bothering to turn around. "On the table." She answered his unspoken question.

"Thanks." She nodded and put his two eggs on the plate along with his buttered toast and sausage. She picked up the plate and trudged over to the table where he sat, in her slippers, untied robe with a t-shirt and pajama pants underneath, and bedhead. She carelessly sat the plate down in front of him, then walked to the coffee pot to refill her own coffee mug. "I'm runnin a little late." She glanced at the clock on the stove and rolled her eyes.

"You realize it's only 7:30, right?" She asked as she finished pouring.

"And?"

"Why've you been in such a hurry to get outta here lately?"

"What are you talkin about, Reba?" She sat down in the chair closest to the backdoor and island while he sat in the chair to her right. She raised her eyebrow and he knew he wasn't fooling anybody. "I'm not in a hurry… I just have early appointments lately, I like to get there and have time to do other stuff before clients start showin up."

"Nobody comes walkin in the second you open, Brock. You've never made appointments that early." She argued.

"The more appointments, the more money. You really gonna complain about that?"

"The more appointments, the less husband and father this household has. Yeah, I'm gonna complain."

"Of course you are…" he mumbled before taking a bite of his eggs. Reba opened her mouth to say something but their fifteen year old daughter walked in smiling.

"Mornin mama, morning daddy." She greeted warmly. They both put on smiles for their oldest daughter and returned their 'good mornings'. "Oh, I'm not gonna need a ride today, mom. Van's takin me." Reba nodded, only catching the key words in her sentence. A few minutes later Brock stood and picked up his plate, walking to the sink to rinse it and set it in there. He walked back to the table to grab his coffee mug and refill it, then put on his jacket.

"I gotta go." He kissed Cheyenne's cheek, grabbed his keys then left out the back door, closing it a little too hard for Reba's liking. Reba sighed and clenched her jaw.

"Okay, what's with you guys lately?" Reba snapped out of her thoughts and turned to look at her daughter who was sitting in one of the green stools at the island.

"What?"

"You and dad."

"What about us?"

"Oh, don't even act like you don't know what I'm talkin about." Cheyenne clearly wasn't buying Reba's clueless act. "He used to kiss you before he left for work and come down and wrap his arms around you while you were cooking his breakfast and smile at you while he ate…" She said, smiling. "Where'd that go? I mean, as gross as it was for your kids to witness, it was still kinda sweet and it'd be nice to see some love around here." Reba shrugged and got up from the table, feeling a little uncomfortable discussing this awkward subject with her fifteen year old daughter.

"I don't know, Cheyenne, are you ready for school?" She tried changing the subject.

"Mom. Stop." Cheyenne said, sternly. "Come sit down and talk… I have a while before Van will be here and you're always there when I need you. I'm here when you need me too, mom. I hope you know that." Reba rested her hands on the counter, looking at her daughter, giving her an 'I don't want to talk about it' look. Cheyenne, being almost as stubborn as her mother, returned the glare, not daring to break the eye contact and lose this one. She wanted to win… she needed to win, for her mothers sake. Reba raised her eyebrow and Cheyenne mimicked the move, then Reba narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

"You are my child, aren't you?" She asked, smirking. Cheyenne let a grin slide across her face, then she watched her mother walk around the counter to take a seat in the stool next to her. "Alright, Cheyenne," She said in a sigh. "What do you want from me?"

"The beginning." Reba furrowed her eyebrows, confused. "Tell me about the beginning. Where it all started. Happy stories. I need to see some smiles from you again."

"I smile!" Reba exclaimed.

"Real smiles, mom. I may not be the sharpest bulb in the drawer, but I ain't stupid!" Reba rolled her eyes and Cheyenne looked at the ceiling, rethinking her words to make sure they were right. "You know what I mean."

"Where should I start?"

"The very first time you laid eyes on him." Cheyenne answered, smiling. Reba sighed and thought about it, then smirked.

"Alright… It was 1979... March 18th, to be exact." Cheyenne's eyes lit up and she smiled at the fact that Reba remembered the exact day she met her father. "But you already know how we met, so we'll skip forward a little, alright?" Cheyenne just nodded, eager to hear the rest of her parents story.

October 27th, 1979-(Things to keep in mind: Although Brock is only 20, the drinking age in the state of Texas from 1971 to 1978 was 18, but January, 1979, they raised the drinking age to 19 then five years later raised it to 21. (Yes, I try to do my research before writing something I'm not 100% positive about.) Reba will be 19 on December 12th. Both in college. Terry owns the bar. Moving on… :p)

The bar door flung open and she heard his voice, greeting his best friend who just so happened to be her boyfriend. Reba sighed and rolled her eyes, not bothering to turn around to even look at him.

"Shouldn't you be with the babysitter? We don't run a daycare here." Brock said to her, sitting in the stool right next to her.

"Shouldn't you be cheating on your girlfriend?" Reba asked, raising her eyebrow and giving him a dirty look.

"For your information, I don't own a girlfriend."

"Own?"

"Yeah. I don't have one, I'm allowed to do whatever I want."

"Tell that to the 23 girls you've slept with and think you're in love with them."

"The number of women I've been with isn't your problem and they know what they mean to me."

"What exactly do they mean to you, Brock?" She questioned.

"Nothing." He answered, nonchalantly. Reba felt her jaw drop a little, but she quickly closed her mouth again and shook her head. "I'm not a whore either, I've only been with a few girls." Reba didn't even bother to respond. It wasn't worth losing her breath to speak to the idiot. "What about you?" Reba looked at him out of the corner of her eye, then looked back down.

"The number of men I've been with isn't your problem." She mocked, then cleared her throat when she felt the room get 15 degrees hotter than it was before. Brock scuffed and shook his head.

"Why are you so uncomfortable with the conversation, Reba?" Reba hated how he'd get on her nerves on purpose.

"Why are you so worried about it, Brock?" he smirked.

"Why are you answerin my questions with questions?"

"Why are you?!" She snapped back.

"Why do you let people get on your nerves so easily?" he asked, still smirking.

"Why do you love bein on them?"

"Why do you let me on them?"

"Because you're so annoying! You're the only person in this world who can annoy me just by walkin through the door!" Brock chuckled and took a drink of his beer. "Does it amuse you?" he shook his head then slowly turned it into a nod.

"It does, because I don't even have to try." Terry walked over to them while drying a glass.

"I can hear you two arguin all the way in the kitchen." Terry exclaimed.

"Sorry… Reba was just tellin me how many men sh- bbmmbnm" Brock couldn't finish because Reba quickly covered his mouth with her hand to shut him up. Terry raised an eyebrow and looked back and forth to both of them.

"What?" Reba smiled and shook her head, keeping her hand over his mouth.

"Nothin. I wasn't tellin him anything." She gasped when she felt his warm tongue against her hand, then she quickly pulled her hand away and wiped it on his shoulder with a disgusted look on her face while Brock smirked. "You're disgusting…" She shook her head and finished wiping her hand on his shirt. "You don't know where my hands have been."

"Better yet, you don't know where my tongue's been." he said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Brock, quit winnin my girlfriend over with your charm." Terry said, winking at them.

"Oh yeah, I'm runnin to his arms." Reba said, sarcastically.

"I can see it." Terry agreed.

"I'm sensing sarcasm." Brock said to them.

"Your senses are correct." Reba assured.

November 23rd, 1999 (Present day)

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait." Cheyenne interrupted. "Lemme get this straight… you and dad didn't like each other?"

"Well, he always got on my nerves… still does. And he still gets a kick out of it for some stupid reason." Reba said, rolling her eyes. Cheyenne smiled and Reba looked at her like she was crazy.

"Because he liked you, mom! Haven't you ever heard that when someone likes you they pick on you?"

"In kindergarten." Reba answered. "Then again, we are talkin about your father so that's probably right."

"It is right." Cheyenne said, very sure of herself. There was a knock at the back door and both of their heads turned to see Vans face peeking in with a big, goofy smile on his face. Cheyenne smiled and hopped off the barstool to let him in. "You're early." She said, standing taller to kiss him. Reba cleared her throat to stop it from happening and Van held his hand out for Cheyenne to shake instead. Cheyenne rolled her eyes at her mother before awkwardly taking Vans hand and shaking it slowly. "You came at a good time, mom was just telling me about her and my dad when they were only a few years older than us." Cheyenne told Van as she sat back down.

"Honey, don't y'all have to get to school?" Reba asked, really not wanting to continue, especially with Van in the room.

"It's only 7:45. School doesn't start till 8:30." Cheyenne pointed out.

"Go early. Talk to your history teacher about the past of sharp light bulbs."

"You knew what I meant, mother."

"Yeah, sweetheart, but if your teachers hear you talk they'll be happy to see you there early." Reba grabbed each of Cheyennes upper arms and kissed her cheek, then pushed on her back causing Cheyenne to stumble off the stool and towards the door. "Van. They'll be glad to see you too, get goin." Van sighed and Cheyenne rolled her eyes, grabbed her book bag and stomped out the door. Van shrugged, then walked towards Reba to give her a a bear hug. He picked her up, her arms tucked under his tight to her side. She felt the air in her chest leave, then he set her down and she smiled and shook her head.

"Have a good day, mom!" He said, walking out the door. Reba's eyes got big.

"Van, how many time do I have to tell you 'It's Mrs. H'?" Reba called after him. He kept walking and just waved when he heard her. She rolled her eyes and closed the door. "Kyra, honey, come down and eat breakfast!" She yelled upstairs. Kyra came downstairs, yawning, dressed, but her hair was a mess. "Did you brush your hair?" Reba asked.

"It's fine, mom. People don't make fun of me." Said the soon-to-be ten year old.

"Either you do it or I will. You choose." Kyra's eyes got big and she ran back up the stairs. "Is Jake up?" She yelled up the stairs again.

"Noo!" Kyra yelled. Reba groaned and slowly walked up the stairs and into Jakes room. She grinned when she saw his tiny, little body all under the blanket and curled into a ball. She sat down on his racecar bed and gently shook him.

"Wake up, honey, we gotta take Kyra to school." She pulled the blanket back to see his face and he scrunched it up. "C'mon, lets go." He yawned with his eyes still shut.

"Can you carry me, mama?"

"Jake, you're four years old, you don't need to be carried anymore."

"But I'm tirreeddd…" He whined. "Please?" He opened his big, brown eyes and Reba sighed. Why did she have to have such cute kids? She got up, picking him up with her and he wrapped his arms around the back of her neck. Reba popped her head in the bathroom to make sure Kyra was brushing her hair, then she went downstairs and set Jake down at the table.

"Can I have chocolate kinda, mama?" Jake asked as Reba got a bowl and spoon ready for him.

"Only of you sing your ABC's for me." Jake sighed dramatically, then began.

" G… elemeno P… doubya S Y and Z! Now I know my ABC's, next time wont you sing with ME!" Reba smiled and brought him the cereal she pored while he was singing.

"Good job, baby." She kissed him temple, then went to the door way of the kitchen/ living room. "Kyra! Hurry up, you're gonna be late!" She came down forty-five seconds later.

"How come dad always gets a cooked meal and all we get is stinkin cereal?" Kyra pouted with her arms crossed as she sat at the table.

"How come dad has to go to work all day to pay for your 'stinkin cereal', clothes, toys, food, house and hairbrushes?" Reba set the cereal in front of her grumpy nine year old.

"Well, it's not fair." Reba stopped and gave her daughter a stern look, that was a sentence that wasn't allowed to be said. Reba hated when they said it.

"If you didn't have to go to school you'd be up in your room for that." Kyra smirked.

"I know." Reba rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"You have to sing the ABC's before you eat!" Jake yelled at Kyra.

"No I don't."

"Uh huh. Even ask mom."

"Uh… how about she tells me what 3 times 12 is." Reba suggested.

"Ooooo… yeah." Jake said.

"Thirty six." Kyra answered like it was nothing. Jakes face fell.

"She got an easy one…" Reba breathed a laugh.

"C"mon, eat, eat, eat. I'm gonna go get changed. Hurry." She quickly went upstairs to get ready and came back down ten minutes later. Jake stopped her before she went into the kitchen.

"Mama…"

"Jake, why are you all wet?"

"I tried to finish my milk like you always want me to, then I spilled it."

"Uggh… Kyra, clean up the mess please." Reba swept Jake up and rushed upstairs to change his clothes, when she came back down the mess was cleaned and Kyra was no where to be found. "She better be in the car…" She grabbed Jake's hand and pulled him out, grabbing the keys off the hook on her way out. Much to her relief, Kyra was in and buckled. Reba quickly bucked Jake into his booster seat, got into the drivers seat and sighed once she was in. "Do you have everything?"

"Yes, mom."

"Okay, Kyra." Reba mocked her attitude. "Thank you for cleanin his mess."

"We don't have school tomorrow."

"I know, it's Thanksgiving. Jake and I have to go grocery shopping. You don't on Friday either."

"Mhmm…"

"Four day weekend, know what that mean?" Reba asked, enthusiastically.

"More time with you." Kyra answered in a monotone voice, Reba frowned.

"You could at least pretend to be happy about it."

"I'm happy about it, mom!" Jake said and Reba smiled.

"Thank you, honey."

"Is dad actually gonna be home for Thanksgiving?" Kyra asked. Reba looked at her through the rearview mirror, but Kyra was looking out the window.

"Yeah, he'll be home all day."

"Will you guys actually get along?"

"Honey… We don't fight all the time-"

"Yeah, because you guys don't even talk."

"We talk. You kids just don't see it happen, we talk every night in bed."

"Ten minutes a day?"

"That's plenty." She saw Kyra roll her eyes. "And sometimes Jake and I go visit him on his lunch break and we'll be together all day tomorrow. Besides, what's a holiday if nobody fights?" Reba asked, trying to lighten the mood, but Kyra stayed quiet. "It'll be okay, sweetheart. I promise." A few minutes later they pulled up to Kyras school. Reba kissed Kyras cheek before she got out, then watched her run into her school with two of her little friends. "Alright, Jake. Just me and you until 3... What's it gonna be first? Clean then grocery shoppin?"

"We should go shopping first."

"Why?" Jake shrugged.

"I don't like to clean."

"Me either. Shoppin it is."