Reba looked up at him. "Do you...love her?"
Brock stared down at her, mouth open but forming words he knew he'd never actually say. She glanced down at the floor, then pushed back her chair and stood. "I see.", she said through pursed lips and walked over to the kitchen island, leaning against it.
Mentally kicking himself, he rose from the floor where he'd knelt, to face her. "Listen, Reba...", he started, still grasping for the right words to say.
She crossed her arms, shaking her head. "No, it's okay. I get it."
He frowned, not understanding what she was getting at.
"You love her.", she answered simply. "But tell me Brock," she began, locking eyes with his. "Did you figure that out before or after you got her knocked up?"
"That's not fair, Reba and you know it!", he shot back, frustrated.
Reba's hands fell to her side. "Unfair?", she asked blankly. Brock closed his eyes, regretting ever bringing the term into the conversation. "You wanna talk to me about unfair, Brock?"
He let out a long sigh as Reba took her next breath. "Unfair is going to couples' therapy every week by myself. Unfair was having to sleep alone every night wondering where you were, worried sick. And unfair was hearing my husband tell me he was throwing our twenty year marriage away. Twenty years, Brock! And for what? Some tramp you got pregnant?"
Brock looked up to the ceiling in resignation. "That's...that's not what I meant...", he said awkwardly, shaking his head. Outraged and red in the face, Reba took the empty coffee cup and threw it in the sink, the sound ringing in his ears and making him flinch.
He opened his eyes in the direction of door in time to see Barbra Jean's smiling face behind it, poised to knock.
"So help me I never want to see that woman again for the rest of my life!", she spat out, eyes shut tightly in exasperation. Brock waved his arms desperately in a silent attempt to get B.J. to stay where she was. She mouthed the word 'okay' and gave him two thumbs up.
"And I'll tell you something else too.", she started, pointing a finger at him. "I don't want her around here, Brock. You keep her away, you hear me?"
Before he could answer, his pocket started ringing. Horrified, he stole a glace at the door and saw Barbra Jean with her cell out. Numbly, he stood there, looking like a complete idiot while the tune played and played.
"Well aren't you gonna answer your phone?", Reba inquired thickly.
Caught between a rock and a hard place, Brock fumbled around in his pocket for the source of the noise. Reba raised an eyebrow at his unease, wondering when it was exactly that their relationship had taken its turn for the worse.
He cleared his throat and answered. "Tom...yeah hey, buddy. No, I can't play golf today. Yeah...I know...I know I promised, but you understand how it goes...", he mumbled, laughing nervously.
Reba rolled her eyes impatiently and turned away, catching sight of Barbra Jean through the door, staring down at her cell phone, completely perplexed. Reba's eyes widened. "Her!", she choked out, pointing at the window. Barbra Jean, not being able to hear what was being said inside, mistakenly took that as her cue to come in and opened the door, a huge smile lighting up her face.
"Oh Lord...", Brock muttered, tossing his cell phone onto the table and catching Reba around the middle just in time before she launched herself on the unsuspecting blonde. B.J.'s eyes widened but cocked her head to one side as Reba kicked at Brock, trying to get loose. "This a bad time?", she asked, completely oblivious of what she was just saved from.
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A/N - Many thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter, you really made my day! I know the second chapter is about half the size of the first, but I figured this was as good a place as any to stop. :) I promise to make a concerted effort to make the third a bit longer! R&R people!
