This Used To Be Us
Disclaimer: I don't own anything other than cds.
Author's Note: I've been a Reba fan since I was probably 3 years old. My favorite LP my mother had was "What Am I Gonna Do About You?" Since then I've collected every Reba cd except 3, which are very early career and out of print.
I've been an on again off again watcher of the Reba show, time permitting. I'm not all that up to date with the last couple of seasons and it's been a few years since I've seen the first few. However, recently I started reading everyone's Reba fanfic's and felt I must contribute. If there's any discrepancies I apologize in advance.
This story is set before the divorce and is kind of a flashback fic. The idea just came to me while listening to Reba's cd "So Good Together", the particular song "Back Before The War" with the lyric "Children's laughter trailing down the hall…."
I hope you enjoy it. Heather
While putting the finishing touches on the bedroom, after finally getting Brock to agree that the decor was in dire need of a change, Reba caught the distinct sound of her daughter's giggling laughter floating through the air towards her. It was unmistakable that Cheyenne was having a blast, but Reba just had to go see for herself.
Slowly trudging down the carpeted corridor towards Cheyenne's bedroom, the sound growing more and more louder with each silent-as-a-mouse step, Reba came upon the room peeking like a tom around the corner to see what her daughter was in to this time. Instead of mischief as expected, Reba found Brock playing with Cheyenne all the while coaxing laughter from his little girl. Just looking at the sight before her, it took everything in Reba to keep from busting a gut right along with Cheyenne. For, standing right in the middle of the room was a Brockette.
Complete in one of Reba's dresses, busting at the seams, Reba's high heels that were getting stretched to the max and probably wouldn't be fit for wearing again, to the full facial enhancement with the aid of Reba's blush and eye shadow, it was definitely a Kodiak moment. Just as Reba was about to go grab the camera she heard Cheyenne start giggling again and turned to see her rolling on the floor laughing.
"Daddy, we just HAVE to show mommy!"
"No, honey, we really don't. I don't think mommy would be too happy with us invading her closet without asking. Let's just keep this between you and me. Ok, sweetie?"
It took Cheyenne a few paused moments and a $1 bill waved in front of her to convince her that mommy really would be irate and it be best to just tell mommy later.
"Ok, Daddy."
"Ok. Well, I'm gonna go get cleaned up. Be a good girl and go help your mother."
"But, Daddy! We ain't done playing fashion show yet." Cheyenne stomped her little four-year old foot and put her hand on her hip. Reba knew for a fact that Brock was wrapped around Cheyenne's little finger and that he wouldn't leave just yet. So, with no time to stall, Reba made a break for the bedroom closet and the camera that lay within.
Returning just moments later, with no hesitation at all, Reba stepped into the doorway, just as Brock was making his second trip back down the runway, and snapped the picture bringing both father and daughter's heads reeling in her direction.
"Re..Re..Reba..." Brock stammered in surprise, unsure what to say.
"Mommy, don't daddy make a pretty lady?" Cheyenne asked as she ran to hug her mother's legs, in hopes of mommy not being too mad that they'd raided her closet.
"Yes, baby, he does". Reba was saying in between fits of laughter.
"Oh, and Brock, you're so in the doghouse for going through my closet. Although, I do have one very funny picture the entire family will most definitely enjoy someday at your expense." Reba said and darted from the room towards the steps.
"But, but, Reba! Oh, come on. That's blackmail!" He ran after her, finally catching up to her in the kitchen.
"Most definitely so Brock. I guess you'd better quit playing Miss USA and start mowing the grass". She came towards him smiling, then reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck before kissing him lovingly.
"By the way," she said pulling back just inches away from his face to where only their foreheads touched, "you make a damn fine looking woman". She kissed him again, than began preparing for dinner.
"Does that mean I'm out of the doghouse?" He asked with pleading eyes.
"Oh, not by a long shot." She responded without missing a beat, giving him one of those Reba looks that could either be construed as teasing or seriousness.
Even after 5 years of marriage he was still at a loss with her sometimes. She had always been a hard woman to read, being extremely well at hiding emotions and feelings until she just absolutely couldn't handle the inner turmoil, unleashing her fiery temper.
"Oh, honey, please don't be mad at me. It was all Cheyenne's idea."
"Good one Brock, blame it on our 5 year old." She glared at him.
When he got that defeated look on his face, she knew she had triumphed, but just couldn't let him go off like that. She knew she was being unreasonable, mainly on purpose, just to try and read his reaction.
As he was headed toward the living room, going for the stairs, she called to him.
"Brock?" He turned with questioning eyes. They both started walking towards each other and met in the middle. She reached her hand up and gently cupped his cheek before kissing him passionately. After a few moments longer than intended, Reba pulled back and dropped her arms from his shoulders where they had ended up during that mind reeling, body tingling kiss.
"What was that for? I thought you were mad at me?"
"For being you. Do I have to have a reason to kiss you?" She stepped back a couple of steps.
"Absolutely not. You can kiss me like that any time you'd like." He wiggled his eyebrows invitingly. However, Reba became serious.
"You're a great father, Brock. I think you giving in to our daughter and playing "fashion show" was the greatest thing a father could ever do for his daughter. However, next time you'd like to borrow items for "dress up" or "fashion show" please consult with me first and not wear my favorite heels." She smiled.
"Sure thing."
As she was turning around to finish preparations for dinner he stunned her.
"You know, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and I'd really like to start discussions on having another child."
She turned abruptly and just stared at him, mostly in shock. She'd never thought Brock would bring up the subject. He'd always lived by the "we'll see how life plays out" philosophy. Brock, thinking it being a bad idea to bring up the subject, quickly added, "or whenever you're ready."
After moments of silence and contemplation on Reba's part, she finally spoke up.
"For the last two days I had been trying to find the words to bring this exact subject up with you, but just either the words or the right moment always eluded me."
"You wanna have another baby, Reba?"
"Honestly Brock, I don't think there's any choice in the matter."
"Huh? What do you mean by that?"
"I think we're already on our way to having another child. I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow for conformation."
Brock's face lit up like a Christmas tree as he scooped her up into his arms and swung her around.
"We're having a baby!" he shouted before setting her back on her feet and kissing her senseless.
They had been a happy couple then, so in love, just waiting for the next adventure to take them to a new place in life. Now, sitting at the kitchen table drinking hot cocoa at two in the morning alone, her thoughts and memories her only companions on these too familiar sleepless nights, Reba couldn't help but try to rack her brain about when things started going wrong, when and how they'd grown so far apart. He had moved out two days ago and their first appointment with the therapist was tomorrow. Would he bring her along, his new fling, his mid-life crisis as Reba liked to call her. Was there any hope left for them? Could she forgive him?
Finishing the last drop of cocoa, she vowed she'd do everything in her power to try and make things right, for her children's sake, if no one else's.