After several more hours, and more pop music than Reba ever wanted to hear in her entire lifetime, Brock finally turned into the hotel where they would be staying on the Gulf of Mexico. Reba breathed a sigh of relief after finding herself learning the words to Genie in a Bottle and fighting the temptation to throttle Barbara Jean for picking such annoying music. She couldn't believe that Brock managed to stand it, but she knew it was easier for him because he noticed her irritation and it amused him. Reba leaped out of the car as soon as it came to a stop and opened the back, getting her duffel bag and walking into the hotel lobby, anxious to get into her room and lay down after the stress of riding in a closed car with Brock and Barbara Jean for so long.
"Reservation for Hart," Reba said with a tired smile to the desk attendant.
"Three rooms?" The attendant, who's name tag read Denise, asked.
"Yes, the rest of my party will be coming in shortly," Reba replied, catching sight of Brock unloading the van.
"Okay, here are your keys. I'll give you two to each room and let you pass them out, okay? They're labeled with the room numbers and check out is at 11 a.m. on Monday for you guys," Denise told her.
Reba and went outside to meet her family, catching them as they started to come inside. "I've got the room keys. Brock, here's 216 for you, Cheyenne, here's 217, and I'll take 218. I'm going to bed; I'll see you all in the morning. Let's meet at 8 o'clock and go out to breakfast, does that sound good?"
Everyone nodded and Barbara Jean started to turn around before lunging forward and grabbing Reba's room keys out of her hand, slipping one out of the holder before giving the other one back. "In case of emergency," she explained with a too-bright smile.
"What emergency could possibly cause you to need to enter my room?" Reba asked incredulously. But Barbara Jean just beamed and skipped away, leaving Reba shaking her head. She briefly met Brock's gaze and lifted an eyebrow, causing him to laugh and shake his head. Reba turned and went to her room, hoping that Barbara Jean would not follow.
Reba pulled her toiletry bag out of her duffel and walked into the bathroom, thinking about Brock and Barbara Jean as she washed her face. They seemed more like roommates than lovers, with Brock spending a lot of time at Reba's house and Barbara Jean operating in her own universe. Brock wasn't even that close to Henry, which had always seemed strange to Reba, considering how much Brock tried to be involved with their three children; Brock and Henry just never really bonded.
Reba splashed cold water on her face as she remembered the feeling of Brock's fingers curling around hers in the car. They occasionally touched each other, a tender hug or gentle hand on the arm. Reba didn't think he'd ever held her hand before, but she hadn't fallen asleep in front of him since the divorce, either. It was a strange feeling, touching him: it was soft like coming home, but she still felt the wildfire passion they had for each other.
A knock at her door startled Reba and she toweled her face off quickly before pulling it open, surprised to see Van standing outside. "Van? What's wrong; is it Cheyenne?"
"No, Mrs. H, Cheyenne's fine. It's you." Van replied seriously.
Reba was bewildered, but motioned Van to come in and sat with him at the small table in her room, "What's wrong with me?"
Van shifted uncomfortably, "You and Mr. H were holding hands in the car."
"Van, that's none of your business," Reba said gently, surprised that he had seen.
"Yes it is," Van exclaimed. "You guys still love each other, but you won't get back together because of Barbara Jean! Everybody thinks I'm so stupid, and sometimes I am, but I'm not a total moron, Mrs H. I know you; you've been like a mom to me, better than my mom, and you deserve to be happy."
Reba smiled and laid a gentle hand on Van's arm, trying to calm him down, "I am happy, Van."
Van blew out a frustrated breath and stood up, "But not like you could be! Listen, I heard you tell Barbara Jean that every marriage that can be saved should be. What if your marriage isn't over yet? Isn't your husband worth fighting for?"
"Brock's not my husband anymore, Van," Reba was starting to get angry and she stood up too.
"He should be," Van replied, "He's not in love with Barbara Jean. He told me one day when we were golfing. And she doesn't love him, not like that anyway, but neither of them know that you love him, so they just stay together because they're too lazy to separate. Just open the door, Mrs. H, just let him know he still has a choice."
"He shouldn't have a choice, Van!" Reba yelled, "He made his last choice when he got Barbara Jean pregnant!"
"He didn't get her pregnant!" Van clapped a hand over his mouth as soon as he realized what he said, and both he and Reba froze.
Finally Reba broke herself out of the shock enough to ask, "What?"
Van sighed, "He didn't get her pregnant, Reba. Henry's not his kid. He did sleep with her, once, right after you separated. She was already a couple weeks pregnant with another married man's kid, but he wouldn't leave his wife, so she told Brock the condom broke and it was his because she was desperate. She's always felt guilty, because she really does think you're her best friend, but she hasn't known how to go back. She got wasted after Henry's last birthday and told Cheyenne when she picked her up from the bar. She said that she wanted Brock to leave her and be happy with you again, because she couldn't think of a way to leave him without tellling the truth, and she couldn't bear the thought of losing you guys."
Reba was shocked and she sank down on the floor, her legs giving out from under her. "Why are you telling me this now," she whispered.
Van kneeled down and put his arms around Reba, pulling her into a hug, "Because I talked to Cheyenne about it tonight, and she's been talking to Barbara Jean. Cheyenne said that Barbara Jean is going to use this vacation to try to win Brock over, because she wants the financial security of a husband, and she doesn't think you love him anymore, and she wants to be happy, and maybe she and Mr. H could learn to love each other. This is your last chance to be with the love of your life, Reba, and Cheyenne and I want you to take it, because Mr. H might give up on waiting for a sign. We love you and figure this is the perfect opportunity. Cheyenne let me talk to you tonight, but she wants you to know that she supports you too. Now I'll let you get to bed, you need your beauty sleep to win back your man!" Van laughed and lifted Reba up by her arms, leading her over to her bed and tucking her in, kissing her forehead and smiling when she chuckled. "Good night, Mrs. H."
"Good night, Van," Reba said softly as she closed her eyes.