One two three, one two three, one two three, Brock repeated to himself over and over again as he stared down at his feet and desperately tried to keep in time with the waltz he was dancing to. He had never been much of a dancer, he realized after he was turned down several times by the touring company of "A Chorus Line", so it didn't help at all that the woman he was dancing with moved as gracefully as a swan.
"Are you okay there, Mr. Hart," his dancing partner asked, a slight smirk playing at her lips. Brock looked up and grinned sheepishly at her.
"Yeah I'm fine Laura, just a bit out of practice I guess. I haven't really danced like this since Reba's wedding." Laura giggled.
"Well relax, you're doing great." Brock gave her a grateful smile and kept eye contact with her, trying to resist the urge to look down at his feet and obsess over what they were doing. Laura smiled assuredly and took it upon herself to guide him without making it look like she was in the lead. He smiled again and began to relax a bit more, thankful to have such a kind and considerate daughter-in-law.
Daughter-in-law, Brock replayed those words in his head. I can't believe I have a daughter-in-law now. He had sat through the wedding not but an hour again and yet it was still taking a while for it all to sink in. Although it had been a year since Jake graduated college, Brock never really realized how much of a man he had grown up to be until that day. It seemed like just yesterday Reba told him she was pregnant for the third time. Boy, does time sure ever fly.
Without Brock realizing it, the music stopped, and Laura pulled out of their dance stance to give him a hug.
"Thanks for the dance, Dad," she told him fondly into his ear. Brock felt his heart warm at the loving title and hugged her even tighter.
"You're welcome, sweetheart," he replied before pulling away. She gave him one last smile before returning to Jake's side and taking his hand. Brock watched with fondness as Jake smiled down at his wife and kissed her tenderly, incredibly happy that his son had finally found someone he could spend the rest of his life with. He had been the last of his three older children who's life hadn't quite settled completely yet, but now he could lay those fears to rest. Jake was married now and had landed himself a great job as a sports writer for some of the most prominent newspapers and magazines. He may not have had any athletic talent to boast of, but the fact that he could write about other people's talents was still pretty impressive. And it still got Brock the best seats to various sporting events, which is all that really mattered to him—besides the fact that Jake was happy, he quickly reminded himself. And he was, just like the rest of his family.
At that thought, Brock's eyes began to roam across the banquet hall and finally came to rest on Cheyenne, his little girl. He scoffed at his own thought, "little girl". She certainly wasn't little and she hadn't been for quite sometime now. Besides the fact that she and Van have been married for nearly eighteen years now, she was also the mother of a beautiful teenager now, and another ten-year-old. Brock watched with a smile as Van and Cheyenne reprimanded Elizabeth for smacking her little brother, Steve on the arm after he refused to quit following her and Henry, who was now also seventeen, around the banquet hall while they talked to some of the other guests their age. It reminded him a lot of when Cheyenne was no older than Steve and had to be reprimanded the same way for treating five year old Kyra so poorly when she tried to follow her around. He couldn't help but smirk to himself, a little glad that Cheyenne was finally getting a taste of her own medicine. But besides all the teenager angst around their household, Cheyenne and Van were still happy as well. Both had thriving careers as a real estate agent and drug/alcohol counselor respectively and their children were happy and healthy. They couldn't ask for anything more.
Brock's thoughts began to wander to his youngest daughter Kyra as he scanned the room for her. He finally spotted her over by her husband Mark's side, watching her older sister and brother-in-law with a bemused smile just as Brock had been doing. He couldn't believe how much her life had changed. Not only was she married and expecting a child now, but she was married to the manager of her very successful music career. Together they had created a label for themselves and debuted Kyra and her band's very first record, which turned out to be a major hit. Brock would never forget the first time of heard his daughter's voice on the radio. It was a mind-blowing yet thrilling experience.
Fame was a funny thing though; after that people just didn't want to know more about Kyra, but her family's life all of sudden became very interesting as well. Brock lost count how many times he's gotten calls from newspaper reporters or magazine writers wanting to know more about Kyra's childhood. It was strange at first, but he had to admit he started to find it kind of fun after awhile. He even got to be on television along with Reba, Brad, Van, Cheyenne, Jake, and Barbra Jean a couple of years back after her band won their first Grammy. Boy had that ever been an experience! Prior to that, Reba had helped co-write a song with Kyra, sort of as a fun little mother-daughter project. She had no idea it would ever end up on one of their records, nor did she ever imagine herself actually performing it with Kyra on national television, but she did on that very appearance. Brock still remembered vividly how blown away he had been by how good they sounded together. The rest of America shared his opinion, apparently, for later on the audio of the live performance began to pick up some unsolicited radio air play. The entire family, especially Reba, watched with wonderment as the single actually climbed the charts, eventually becoming a top twenty hit. Needless to say a couple of record contract offers followed, but Reba declined to no one's surprise. Her life was far too settled to suddenly toss herself into that kind of world (not to mention that Kyra claimed she would just "die of embarrassment"). Billboard did reward her with a little plaque however, and did a feature of her and Kyra in an issue of their magazine; both of which are proudly displayed on top of Brad and Reba's mantle. After all, it's not every day a person with no record contract gets a top twenty hit!
Yes, things certainly had been crazy for a good long while now, but it wasn't like the Hart clan wasn't used to it. Ever since that infamous day in court-mandated therapy some eighteen years ago, it seemed like one insane fiasco after another would just keep popping up every week….except during the summers, for some odd reason….but anyway, in all honesty that was sort of the way Brock preferred it. He had a feeling life would be incredibly dull without the kooky antics of the ones he loved most in this world.
Brock suddenly realized that he must have been standing stationary at the dance floor without actually dancing longer than any sane person should, so he decided to make his way over to the bar where he last spotted his wife. When he arrived however, she was nowhere to be found, but instead a somewhat exasperated Reba sat alone on one of the bar stools. Definitely a tale-tell sign that his wife had once been there.
"Hey Reba, you seen Barbra Jean around," he still asked, though the frustrated sigh that followed made the question all the more unnecessary.
"One too many times, yeah," Reba replied. "She was just here telling me a fascinating tale about how she would help gut chickens on her grandma's farm when she was a little girl." Brock couldn't help but give out a little chuckle. That would explain the untouched chicken meal sitting next to her on the bar.
"Sorry," he apologized for the antics of his wife, a bit of reflex after seventeen years of marriage. "You want me to go get you something else to eat?" Reba grimaced.
"No thanks. This may come as a shock, but food just doesn't sound too appealing right now." Brock gave a small laugh and stared at her. It was probably because of all the reflection he was doing that day, but all of sudden he noticed just how well Reba had aged. She was approaching sixty now (Brock, much to his chagrin, had already arrived) but she could easily pass for 45 or so. Although it wasn't quite as illustrious as it once was, her red hair still had a sparkle to it, and her face still held a remarkable amount of youth in spite of a few new wrinkles here and there. Plus it helped that she still had that slim, hourglass figure. Brock admired her ageless beauty, but at the same time he couldn't help but wish he had held up as well as she had. His increasingly thinning hair had all but given in to the grey streaks that had slowly been taking over his head, and he seemed discover a new wrinkle every day. Barbra Jean said it made him look distinguished, but he knew she was just trying to make him feel better, especially since she had hardly aged at all. Being almost twenty years her senior, Brock was beginning to realize just how much their age difference was going to show in the years to come, and he couldn't help but worry. If he hadn't looked like cradle robber before, he certainly was going to now.
"Brock," he heard Reba suddenly snap. "What are you staring at?" He realized in midst of his mind wandering he must have just rested his gaze on Reba and gawked at her for a good long while. He gave her an apologetic smile, but instead of explaining himself to her, he asked her something he had been meaning to ask her since the reception began.
"You want to dance?" Reba was taken aback.
"Dance! With you? But-but we haven't done that since…."
"I know," Brock interrupted her. "But this occasion is special." He offered her his hand, but she just stared at it reluctantly. He lowered his head to her eye level to catch her gaze.
"Please Reba?" He gave her those puppy dog eyes he knew she still couldn't resist and smiled triumphantly when he heard her sigh.
"Fine," she resigned. "But if Brad asks, it was your idea!" She gave him a small smirk before putting her hand in his and allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. As if on cue, the upbeat number the band had been playing gave way to a softer, romantic ballad. Brock held her right hand in his left and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her in close. Reba seemed a bit hesitant at first, but as they began to move together to the music she relaxed a little and even allowed him to pull her closer. They danced in silence, never once breaking eye contact with each other.
"So it's Jake's wedding day," Brock said after a while, attempting to make small talk. "Not exactly how we pictured it, huh?"
"There are a few people I didn't think would be here," Reba admitted with a playful grin, obviously referring to Barbra Jean. "Either way, I still can't believe our last child is finally married."
"I know. It seems like just yesterday we were trying to get him to cough up that dollar fifty in change that he swallowed." Reba laughed delightfully and shook her head.
"We never have been a normal family, have we?"
"Well, who's to say what's normal anyway," he replied dismissively with a smile. "Besides, it keeps things interesting, don't you think?"
"Yeah, I guess," she agreed only half-heartedly. "Though I must admit, I'm looking forward to a bit of peace now that things are starting to settle down. It's been a pretty crazy couple of decades."
"Yeah…" Brock agreed absent-mindedly, knowing perfectly well that he was mostly responsible for the craziness she was referring to, which meant he was also the one that put that almost enervated look that had flashed in her eyes when she spoke. All of a sudden Brock was compelled to speak from the heart.
"I'm so sorry, Reba." She turned a confused look to him.
"Sorry? Sorry for what?"
"For everything. For every time I disappointed you, or made you angry, or made you sad enough to cry. And I don't think I ever really told you this before, but I'm so, so sorry for hurting you when I had my affair. I'm just….so sorry." He tore his eyes away from her face and looked down, half out of embarrassment for just spilling his heart out so suddenly like that, and half out of incredible guilt. Brock could hear his own heart pounding nervously in his ears, practically drowning out the music they were still swaying to, and he waited for her to end the torturous silence that had fallen between them. Finally she spoke.
"Brock, how can you still worry about that? It happened almost twenty years ago." The soft tone of her voice comforted him a little, and he finally found the strength to look up into her eyes again.
"I know, Reba, it's just…sometimes I see a bit of the hurt come back into your eyes and it kills me 'cause I know I'm the one that put it there. Sometimes I just wish I could take it all back, just so I could take the pain away." Reba gave him a small compassionate smile.
"Brock, you know as well as I do that things happen for a reason. I mean, look around. Our entire family is happy and we've both moved on and found people who love us with all their hearts. Maybe this is exactly the way things were supposed to turn out."
At her command, Brock did look around at all the smiling faces of his family and smiled a little himself. It had been a tough road, but things were indeed good now. But still, he couldn't help the nagging feeling that continually pierced his heart.
"I know you're right Reba. We all are exactly where we all should be. I just wish…I just wish we could have gotten here without me hurting you." In that instant all the pain of the last part of their marriage seemed to flash in Reba's eyes, and from the small sad smile she gave him thereafter, Brock could tell that she agreed. But there really was nothing either of them could do about it. If he could erase that pain from her memory he'd do it in a heartbeat, but all they could both do was live with their mistakes.
"Well, at least now I know I can handle just about anything," she told him with a reassuring smile. "Besides, I forgave you a long time ago Brock….and this time for real. No hidden resentments or sudden outbursts of violence, I promise...unless you really, really deserve it." Brock gave a small laugh and returned the bemused smile that played at her lips, but he didn't retort with a quip of his own. Instead he gave her hand a friendly squeeze and drifted off into his own thoughts.
She was wonderful to offer such comforting assurances, but it didn't stop him from hating himself for hurting her all the more. She may have forgiven him a long time ago, but there was no doubt in his mind that he would never completely forgive himself, which is just how it should be. So long as there guilt lingering inside him it would prevent him from making the same mistake twice, and thus far it has. During his and Barbra Jean's numerous separations, a couple of opportunities came up for him to take comfort in the arms of another woman, but he took none of them. All it took was one flashback to the incredible pain Reba's eyes held when she found out he had cheated on her and his resolve to never put that kind of pain in Barbra Jean's eyes grew stronger. He just wished he had learned that sooner, like sixteen years sooner. At that thought, Brock once again locked eyes with Reba and gave her a tender smile.
"What," she asked after a moment.
"I still love you, ya know," he told her confidently. It may have slightly blown up in his face the last time he told her that ten years ago, but this time around the connotation was different. Ten years ago, he just let his emotions carry him away and blurt out things that probably should have never been spoken. This time he was just stating a fact. They had been husband and wife for twenty years, best friends five years before that, even closer friends sixteen years since; there was always going to be feelings that ran deeper than friendship between them. Of course they couldn't act on them, nor did either of them want to, but the fact that they both knew those feelings were there just bonded them even closer.
"I still love you too," Reba replied with a small, slightly sad smile. "Still want to run away with me?"
"Oh yes," Brock teased, "In fact, I've got the plane tickets here in my pocket and a beach house reserved in Hawaii. We can start a new life together selling coconuts down by the shore." Reba laughed and rolled her eyes.
"Sounds like a plan." Brock chuckled even heartier and grinned at her, so glad they could now joke about feelings that once had been so sensitive. He was just about to ask her for another dance so they could chat some more when suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Brad standing behind him.
"Mind if I cut in?"
"As a matter of fact, I do," Brock answered playfully as he clutched Reba tighter. "Go get your own red-headed dance partner." Brad laughed.
"Well I would, but Kyra is a bit too pregnant and well…mean to dance with at the moment. I guess I'll just have to settle for my wife!"
"Oh thank you, honey. It's nice to hear I was your second choice," Reba retorted sarcastically, her eyes dancing with suppressed laughter. "If such is the case, I think I'll just stick with the dance partner I have right now, thank you very much!"
"Ha ha ha," Brad replied with a roll of his eyes. "Come here!" He grabbed the hand that had been on Brock's shoulder and pulled her out of Brock's grasp directly into his. Reba laughed and gave him a affectionate kiss on the cheek. Brock smiled wistfully and turned to go.
"Oh Brock," he heard Reba call out to him. He turned around and stared at her questioningly.
"Thanks for the dance," she told him sincerely, giving him a secret wink. Brock smiled fondly at her and winked right back. "You're still coming to our place for dinner on Sunday, right?"
"Yup, Barbra Jean and I will be there for sure."
"Who said anything about Barbra Jean being invited," she asked slyly. Brock gave her a sardonic smile. She and Barbra Jean may have been best friends for a while now but she still got on her nerves half the time, so it still gave Reba great pleasure to throw little digs at her every now and then. Brock had to admit, he couldn't really blame her.
"Barbra Jean and I will be there on Sunday." Reba gave him that grin that still made him a bit weak at the knees before turning her attention back to her husband and their dance. Meanwhile, Brock drifted off to the sidelines, scanning the crowd for a dance partner but finding everyone already taken; even his wife, who was having a great time dancing with Jake. Brock took a seat at one of the tables that surrounded the dance floor and watched his family enjoy the evening. He had to admit it sure had been a marvelous one, for more reasons than one. His son was now happily married and he came to terms with emotions that he thought had long ago been put to rest.
His eyes roamed to Reba and Brad on the dance floor, happily chatting with one another and occasionally sharing a kiss. Brock still loved to see her happy, even if it wasn't with him. He still regretted losing her, but it didn't mean he regretted all that he had gained. His and Barbra Jean's love grew stronger every day, and he still had the wonderful family he had before, plus a few new members. On top of that, Reba finally found the love she deserved all along, which is all he ever wanted for her. Oh how he wished he could have been the one who was able to give it to her, but that wish was just one that was never meant to come true.
It would always be there though. Brock realized a while back that a special place in his heart had developed a long time ago, long before he met Reba that only she could fill. It had always been there, and it would probably always be there, no matter what the status of his and Reba's relationship was. He had loved her long before he even met her and he would love her long after they were both gone.
A/N: That's all she wrote, folks! Hope you were entertained a least a tiny bit and reviews are greatly appreciated as always! Until I write again!
Oh and for the record, there really was no point to that whole "Reba singing on national television" deal. I just threw that in for me and my warped imagination. Hope y'all don't mind:D
