This one's shorter - not much time to write in the past couple of days.

Reba – People In Glass Houses 4

When she drove up after scarfing the ice cream, Terry's Mercedes was parked out front.

Hell, thought Reba. I have died, and I am in hell. God kept telling me to keep my mouth shut, but would I listen? No, sirree…

Terry met her on the porch. "Reba, you look beat. I just heard about what that awful man did to you and if you want me to I'll go beat him up."

Reba gave him a dead stare. "You? What did you have in mind? Bruising his knees?"

"Reba, you are so funny. So positive even when your heart is breaking."

"My heart is not breaking," said Reba defiantly.

"Now, Reba," said Terry, "Just sit down." He ushered her onto the sofa and handed her a glass of chilled Chablis. "Rosemary chicken is in the oven, and Barbara Jean's bringing over blackberry cobbler." He went into the kitchen.

"Geez, what is this? People act like somebody died. Next thing, somebody will walk in wearing black and bringing flowers."

Kyra ran downstairs in a dark Goth outfit with a colorful Hawai'ian lei adding just the perfect ironic touch. Reba had to close her eyes and shake her head. Just for a second.

"Goin' to band practice, Mom!"

"Wait just a minute, young lady, I haven't seen you all week."

Kyra stopped short and turned slowly. "Well, I was here. You weren't."

"I have a job that puts a roof over your head."

"And I have a job that will pretty soon put a roof over my head if you'll let me go to practice."

Reba stood up, ready for a fight. "Barbara Jean let you get too big for your britches."

Kyra walked over to Reba and hugged her. "I know about Gary Clinton, Mom. I'm sorry he broke your heart."

"Augh!" yelled Reba "What is this about him breaking my heart?"

"Anyway, I know you're not really mad at me; you're mad at him. Let it out, Mom. Let it out. But let it out later on me. I'm outtie."

Reba fumed. Terry came back in. "Whoa, girl, you're steamin'. Bet if we hooked up a pressure cooker to your ears we'd get them field peas done in fifteen minutes!"

Reba plunked back down on the couch. "I hate it when you start talking country."

"Barbara Jean thinks it's cute. Don't you just love Barbara Jean? She's so naturally vivacious. I just love her."

Reba shot the dead stare again. "Well, then, why don't you marry her?"

Terry tut-tutted with his tongue. "Oh, Reba, now there's no call to act like a third grader."

Reba chuckled softly.

"What's funny?" asked Terry.

"Just my life," she said, turned away from Terry and let herself fall face down in a sofa pillow.

Van shot up off the sofa in Reba's den. "You are not going to let this two-timing scuzz keep you from your promotion. I can't believe that you're even thinking about giving it to me."

"But, Van, you wanted it from the start."

"Yeah, but not because you're scared of it. I wanted it because Codex knows I'm the best. She knows I've had more sales. If you give it to me now, that just makes it cheap and second-hand."

"Oh, stop acting like a girl, Van."

"No, you stop." Van walked over to the picture of the Hart family on Reba's desk. "Are you going to tell them you chickened out? Are you going to tell Jake his mom is a weanie? Are you going to look my daughter and my son - after he's born, of course – in the eye and tell them Grammie passed on the opp of a lifetime just because some scoundrel broke her heart?"

"He didn't break my heart, Van, I only knew him for about ten minutes. He only bent it slightly."

Van made his "What's it gonna be?" face.

Reba sighed. "You're right, Van. I know you're right. Giving in will just make him that much more prone to treat other women that way and get away with it." She began to pace.

Van watched, hoping his rant had some effect.

"I'm doing this not only for myself and my family," she told herself. "I am doing this for all the other potential victims of Gary Clinton."

She whirled around and pointed at Van. "He's expecting me to bow out. He's expecting his future mother-in-law, my boss Ms. Codex, to send someone else, someone he can manipulate. What he doesn't realize is that now that I know his true colors, I am immune to his wiles."

Van frowned. "The wiles of an elementary school principal?"

"Yes!" she yelled. "He wooed me with that distinguished hair contrasted with his boyish face. He could tell I was intrigued by a man who spends all day with kids. He planned to seduce me,even when i was knocked out cold."

Van started pounding one fist into the other palm. "I'll kill 'im."

Reba held up her hand."No, Van, this kind of fox can only be vanquished by ignoring him. I will show him that he is nothing to me but a client. I am completely blind to him as a man. I am immune, like I am immune to chicken pox or the measles. In fact, I am so immune that you could shoot me full of Gary Clinton anthrax and I'd go run a marathon. I am so immune that Chuck Norris asks for shots of me. I am so-"

"I get it, Mrs. H," cut in Van. "Now, go find Gary and Shari another house."