The weeks went by and Reba didn't learn to miss Rhett. The one she did miss, however, was never far from her reach. She just knew he would never be truly hers again. She spent as much time with Brock as she could, although she knew that wouldn't help her fall for Rhett. If anything, it was just making things worse. She knew good and well that Brock's marriage with Barbra Jean was on the rocks. Having an affair with him certainly wasn't helping that matter.
Two weeks before the wedding, Rhett came back to Houston.
"It's so great to finally be able to see you again," Rhett told when they saw each other. He had been gone for one month and the only contact they had had were phone-calls and emails.
Reba hugged her fiance back as they stood on the front porch, his bags around them. "Missed you," She lied.
"I missed you more."
Reba pulled away, thinking about how that was entirely possible. "Let's get inside. The kids are here for dinner."
A family dinner was held and everybody celebrated the upcoming wedding with a cake that Cheyenne and Van had secretly ordered to surprise Reba and Rhett.
"I know it isn't as fancy as the wedding cake," Cheyenne said as she cut slices for everyone. "But it'll do. I hope you all like Devil's food cake."
"What kind did we order for the wedding?" Rhett asked Reba, passing her cake to her.
"Vanilla, I believe," She responded. "Cheyenne said she'd order it. It was vanilla, right, Cheyenne?"
"Wait. What?" Cheyenne asked, looking over at Reba. "You wanted vanilla?"
"Yes. What kind did you order?"
"Chocolate."
Reba threw her hands in the air. "Chocolate? How do you mix up chocolate and vanilla?"
"I'm sorry. I guess I just wasn't thinking."
"Rhett doesn't like chocolate. And the cake has already been paid for. What now?"
Cheyenne shrugged slightly, her face told the story of apology. "I'm sorry, Mom..."
"Reba, it's fine," Rhett said. "I'll deal with it."
Reba turned to face him. "You're not going to deal with it. It's your wedding."
"It's our wedding," He corrected her. "Don't get so upset. It'll be fine." He wrapped an arm around her. "Why are you getting all worked up, anyway? Hormones raging?" He winked.
"No," She said. "My hormones are not raging, thank you very much." She sat back and squared her jaw.
"Jeez. You'd think you're pregnant or something with the way you're carrying on," Rhett told her.
The table went quiet before Cheyenne said, "Mom, are you?"
Reba's eyes went wide. "What? No!" She elbowed Rhett. "Don't say things like that."
"I was just kidding. She's not pregnant, you guys," He told the kids.
Everybody went back to eating their cake, but Reba didn't touch hers. She had been a little moody lately, but that was because she was expecting to see Rhett. Now that he was here, she was even more on edge than usual. And she certainly didn't appreciate him making jokes like that.
"And then he told everybody that the reason I was so worked up was because I might be pregnant," Reba told Brock the next evening. She had gone over to his place after Barbra Jean and Cheyenne had gone wedding shopping and Rhett and Jake were playing some video game at her house.
"Are you?" Brock asked, placing his nose in the crook of her neck.
She smacked his chest. "I haven't slept with anybody but you in two months. I hope to God I'm not. But I'm not."
"Good. That would really screw things up."
"You think we're not doing a good enough job with that?"
"I was just saying."
"Well, I'm just saying. You realize we'll have to stop soon."
"I don't want to."
"Well, me either, but this was only supposed to bring temporary relief. We have to go out into the real world, if you will, now. We have to be done playing this game, or whatever it is."
"It isn't a game. It's wonderful."
"You sound like a Hallmark card."
"I'm just stating the facts. It's wonderful being around you."
She moved her head back to look at him in the dim light. "Is it really wonderful? 'Cause it sure feels wrong."
"It's some kind of wonderful. Other people may not see it that way, but it's wonderful to us. And that's all that really matters."
Barbra Jean dropped by the next day with an odd bounce in her step. She had just dropped Henry off at school and was prepared to take advantage of Reba's day off work.
"Hey, buddy!" She called, entering the living room where Reba was dusting the furniture.
"Barbra Jean, what are you doing here?"
"I have something I want to show you."
Reba stopped her cleaning momentarily and turned to her friend. "Okay. What is it?"
"Oh, it's not here. It's downtown."
"Downtown? What do you want to show me that's downtown?"
"It's a surprise."
Reba sighed and placed a hand on her hip. "I have a lot of cleaning I have to catch up on. Either tell me or I ain't goin'."
"It's a fortune teller's shop."
Reba blinked a few times in astonishment before shaking her head. "Nope. I am not going to a fortune teller."
"Reba, why? I know there are some things you're on the fence about. Madame Ilvinsky can help you with that."
"I don't need a fortune teller to solve my problems. And what do you mean you know there are some things I'm on the fence about?"
"Brock told me you had cold feet about the wedding."
"He told you what?"
Barbra Jean took a few steps back as Reba took several forward. "I was just saying how you don't really seem yourself lately. He didn't have much to say so I knew he knew something. I forced it out of him and he told me you were having second thoughts."
Reba was raging mad. She had told that to him in confidence. If it somehow got back to Rhett, her and Brock's affair could get out and that certainly wouldn't help with her being alone issue.
"Don't be mad at him," Barbra Jean said. "I knew I could help you if I only knew what the problem was. Now that I do, I'm taking the proper steps to fixing it. You and Rhett are the cutest couple ever. There's no need to be on the fence about it. Now go get ready so we can go."
"Barbra Jean, I am really not in the mood to go to a fortune teller. I'm going to stay here, finish cleaning, then I'm going to drink a bottle of wine."
"It's not even nine o'clock in the morning."
"Not a problem. I plan to be drunk before then, anyway."
Somehow, she wasn't sure exactly how, Barbra Jean convinced Reba to go downtown with her to see Madame Ilvinsky. Barbra Jean swore by her, having apparently gone to her a more than a few times for guidance. Reba wasn't one to believe in that sort of stuff, but figured if she could just hurry and get it over with, Barbra Jean would leave her alone.
The two walked inside the dimly lit shop, a bell jingling on the door, signalling their arrival. A older woman in a long dress appeared from a door in the back, arms held out.
"You must be my nine o'clock appointment. Barbra Jean?"
"Yes, that's me." Barbra Jean stepped forward. "And this is Reba. She's the one whose palms you'll be reading."
Madame Ilvinsky put her glasses on and walked towards Reba, taking her hands. "I knew you'd be a redhead." She winked before motioning them back. "Come. Sit, sit." She opened the door she had just walked out of and Reba and Barbra Jean followed her in, Reba a little more uncertainly than Barbra Jean.
There was a round table with four chairs around it, a dark tablecloth draped over it. A few candles flickered in the room, giving the place an eerie feeling. Reba was beginning to feel more and more uneasy as she sat down with the two.
"So," Madame Ilvinsky said. "I understand you're here concerning last minute wedding jitters?" She looked at Reba with her grandmotherly face.
"I guess so..." Reba told her. "She drug me here." She pointed at Barbra Jean. "I wasn't very excited to come. No offense. I just don't believe in this sort of thing."
"Reba!" Barbra Jean said in surprise. "Don't be rude."
"She's okay," Madame Ilvinsky said. "Not everyone believes. And not everyone should. It's more fun that way." She winked and grabbed Reba's hands, turning them palm-side up. "You're looking to be reassured that your fiance is the one for you, am I right?"
"I guess so," Reba told her. "But how would you know what's right?"
"I don't know. The lines do." She looked down, tracing the lines in Reba's hands with her own soft, wrinkled ones. After a moment, she said, "Your fiance, he's very kind, isn't he?"
Reba nodded. "Yes, he is."
Madame Ilvinsky clicked her tongue. "A little too kind?"
"Maybe."
She was silent for a moment before saying, "You mean everything to him. He's told you that time and time again. But you just don't feel the same, do you?" She looked up at Reba who's mouth was open slightly. The old woman chuckled. "The truth gets the nonbelievers every time."
Reba closed her mouth, narrowing her eyes. "Anyone could guess that."
"Is there someone else?" She asked. "Someone you love other than your fiance?"
Barbra Jean looked at Reba then to Madame Ilvinsky. "You mean you don't think her heart is with Rhett?" She looked at Reba. "Reba, is that true?"
"The lines don't lie," Madame Ilvinsky said, closing Reba's hands and pushing them towards her. "Do they?"