Chapter 10

Alternate Timeline, January 2007

They reappeared in Brock's office, in a patient room. Brock was tending to an attractive woman, and was being assisted by a male hygienist.

"What happened to Barbara Jean?" Reba questioned out of curiosity.

"She quit," Terry explained, "It got so tense between her and Brock after he told you they had a fling that she thought it was best."

Reba smiled. "It probably was. Now shh, I wanna listen."

"Okay, you're all done. See you in six months," Brock was saying, taking his rubber gloves off and throwing them in a nearby trash can.

The brunette woman sat up and removed the paper bib. Giving Brock a seductive grin, she placed a delicate hand on his bicep. "I don't know if I can wait that long."

"Of course you can come sooner if you feel you need another appointment," Brock replied, obviously enjoying having her hand on his arm.

Idly running her finger up and down Brock's arm, she explained, "I was thinking of something more along the lines of going out for coffee sometime?"

"Y-you know, coffee is bad for your teeth," Brock stuttered, shrugging her hand off and pretended to busy himself with arranging his cleaning instruments.

The woman chuckled as she walked toward the door and glanced back at him. "Then I guess I will be needing another appointment, won't I?"

Brock blushed, watching her as she went into the waiting room. When he couldn't see her anymore he started chatting with his hygienist.

Gritting her teeth, Reba clenched her fists to prevent herself from smacking Brock across the face. After all, it wasn't like he would feel it if she did. "What is wrong with that man? Doesn't he ever learn his lesson?"

"He did," Terry answered. "And he has yet to have an affair. But you know Brock – he can't help but flirt."

"He's still loyal…" Reba whispered in amazement.

Terry nodded. "Yup. Don't get me wrong, he's the biggest dang flirt you'll ever meet, 'specially when a babe starts giving him compliments."

"Some things never change," Reba muttered.

Giving a short laugh, Terry reasoned, "But that isn't the point. Yeah, he flirts every once in a while, but he's as loyal as a childhood dog. And might I add that you two have never been happier."

"Jeez," Reba murmured, shaking her head. "I can't believe it."

Terry put a hand on her shoulder. "Well, get over it quick cause we've got somewhere else to go."

They arrived in a bedroom of a strange apartment. Cheyenne was packing clothes into a suitcase, while Kyra looked on from her seat on the edge of the queen-sized bed.

If seeing Jake in a football uniform stunned Reba, seeing Kyra in a cheerleading uniform was enough to give her a heart attack.

"W-what…" Reba blurted, doubling over with laughter. "What in God's name is Kyra wearing?"

"She's a cheerleader now," Terry replied, not surprised in the least.

Reba glared at him. "Well, that's obvious. I meant why is Kyra a cheerleader. The Kyra I know wouldn't touch a cheerleader's uniform unless she was punching one."

"It's simple, really," Terry told her. "You see, Cheyenne never got pregnant and married at seventeen. Therefore, Kyra couldn't feel completely superior to her. So instead of being Cheyenne's total opposite, she tries to be just like her, only a better version. That includes earning straight A's as well as being popular and on the cheerleading squad."

"But Cheyenne was on the drill team," Reba responded, not sure why she felt the need to bring that up at the moment.

Terry shrugged. "In Kyra's mind, the cheer squad is better than the drill team."

Watching Kyra gladly help her sister fold some clothes, Reba commented, "This just doesn't sit right. I dare you to look me in the eye and tell me that this Kyra is happy with her life."

"She is," Terry informed her, looking her in the eye. "She doesn't know what it's like to be her other self, so she's fine with being the three P's."

Reba raised an eyebrow. "The three P's?"

"Pleasant, pretty and popular," Terry answered.

Rolling her eyes, Reba went back to her daughters. Watching Cheyenne packing a suitcase on a strange bed made her realize she had no idea where they were. "Hey, Terry…where are we?"

"Cheyenne's apartment. Well, soon to be Cheyenne's former apartment," Terry added. "She'd been living with her boyfriend, but they broke up this morning. She's going to move back to your apartment like she always does."

"'Always does'? What do you mean – "

Terry put a finger to her lips and pointed to the sisters. "Listen."

"So what happened this time?" Kyra was asking, folding up a sweater and placing it in the suitcase.

Cheyenne huffed in annoyance, throwing a t-shirt on top of the folded sweater. "He's such a jerk. He said he couldn't live with me because my makeup spilled over into his side of the sink. How lame is that?"

"It's obviously an excuse," Kyra reasoned. "It's the same with every guy you've dated in the last few years, Cheyenne. You want to move in with him before he's ready, and he gets freaked out about commitment and bails."

Staring at her younger sister, Cheyenne remarked, "You have got to stop watching Oprah with Mom."

"Seriously though, you have to stop thinking every guy you meet could be your future husband. Guys are so not thinking about marriage when they meet you," Kyra reminded her.

Cheyenne put a hand on her hip. "That's…not true. A guy proposed to me last week."

"It doesn't count if he's inebriated," Kyra quipped.

Obviously not knowing what the word meant, Cheyenne snapped, "He wasn't inebriated. He was drunk, for your information."

Kyra chuckled to herself. "Right. Anyway, the point is that you have to loosen up. I mean, what happened? You were a total slut in high school."

"I don't know," Cheyenne admitted, not bothered by Kyra's "slut" label in the least. "Once I got to college, all I could think about was that I wanted to get married. Maybe it's cause I'm not really good with grades and stuff, you know? Maybe I think the only way I'll have any money is if I marry a successful guy."

Indicating the somewhat dingy bedroom, Kyra reasoned, "Then how do you explain going out with this guy?"

"Oh, shut up," Cheyenne retorted. Desperate for a change of subject, she asked, "So Kyra, how's the cheerleading squad?"

Smiling, Kyra answered, "Awesome. Today I did this cool flip…"

Reba tuned out of the conversation and turned to Terry. "Funny. I never pictured Cheyenne as one to be too quick to get married."

"That's because she had to at a young age. She never got a chance to play the field and figure out what she wanted," Terry explained.

"And there's something else bothering me about this picture," Reba went on. "Why is Kyra helping Cheyenne pack? Are they best friends now or something?"

Terry hesitated before replying, "Well, sort of. Cheyenne doesn't see that Kyra wants to be like her just to be superior. She thinks it's flattering that Kyra wants to follow in her footsteps, so to speak, so they hang out more."

"That's Cheyenne for you," Reba sighed.

Letting her observe some more for a moment, Terry finally raised his hand, "You ready for our next stop?"

"There's more?" Reba asked in surprise. "But I've already seen Jake, Brock, Cheyenne, Kyra…"

"And you."

After arriving back at the house in the kitchen, Reba turned to Terry and begged, "You know, we don't have to see this…"

"What's the matter, Reba? Afraid of what you might see?" Terry retorted.

Reba glared at him, knowing he'd hit a nerve. "Me? Afraid? Yeah, right."

"Well then look over there," Terry instructed, pointing to the kitchen island. Reba's alternate self was making dinner.

"I think this time travel stuff is affecting my brain," the original Reba remarked. "I'm watching myself bread chicken cutlets…and I don't find it weird."

Terry laughed. "I guess that proves you can get used to anything, huh?"

"No kidding. So, what's going on here?" Reba asked, gesturing to the scene in front of them.

"It's a typical night. Jake's in his room, Kyra is at Cheyenne's latest place, and Brock is on his way home from work," Terry answered. "As for what your life is like, it's not as interesting as it used to be, of course."

Reba smiled. "I can live with that."

"In addition to being wife and mother," Terry went on, "You have a very active social life. You have more friends in the community, you're a leading vocalist in the church choir, and while the kids are at school you're usually volunteering or having lunch with the other mothers."

Digesting the information, Reba commented, "Sounds a little boring and 'Stepford Wives'-ish, doesn't it?"

"It's normal," Terry replied, reminding her of her wish. When she broke eye contact, he continued, "It's also what happens when you have free time."

Reba nodded in understanding. "I guess it makes sense. I finally got to find time for myself since I'm not always worried about trying to fix everyone else's problems."

"That's not all that's changed," Terry said, then looked toward the other Reba.

Finished with breading the chicken cutlets, Reba turned on the heat under a frying pan already on the stove. She washed her hands and was about to start frying the cutlets when the phone rang.

"Hello? Oh, hey Brock, are you on your way home? I can't wait to go out tonight, I'm just about finished making dinner for the kids…oh, well, sure I guess that's okay, it's been a while since you were out with your friends…you're staying at your friend's house…of course, if you've been drinking I wouldn't want you driving home…yeah I'll see you tomorrow. Love you too."

She then hung up the phone and gave a deep sigh. A disappointed look on her face, she continued to make dinner.

The original Reba's jaw dropped, not comprehending how she herself could act that way in any parallel universe. "What the hell happened to me? I was kidding when it came to the Stepford Wives analogy, but seriously, did Brock slip a microchip in my brain when I was sleeping?"

"No, you're just a lot more…trusting," Terry explained. "And forgiving, and submissive…and just not you." At her incredulous stare, he added, "Well, the divorce and Cheyenne's pregnancy shaped who you are now. Without that, you've had no reason not to be trusting. As for the submissive thing, ever since the 'Barbara Jean incident,' you've become paranoid that you might lose him so you pretty much let him do what he wants."

In shock, Reba said, "B-but…you mean I'm…oh, this isn't right, not right at all. That's not me! That's…an imposter me!"

"Okay, you're not making any sense," Terry retorted.

"You don't get…" Reba trailed off as she heard the back door slam open.

"Hey Mom!" Cheyenne greeted, carrying a suitcase across the threshold. Kyra was behind her, a much larger suitcase in her hand.

The addressed Reba turned around and put a hand on her hip. "Oh no. You and Jimmy broke up already?"

"Not 'already.' We lasted two months!" Cheyenne protested, taking a seat at the island.

Dragging the suitcase into the kitchen and dropping it next to the island, Kyra huffed, "Ask her why they broke up, Mom."

"Shut up, Kyra," Cheyenne snapped.

Reba raised an eyebrow at her eldest daughter. "Okay, I'll bite. Why did you and your boyfriend break up, Cheyenne?"

"Nothing. We just decided we couldn't live together," Cheyenne replied.

When Reba looked at her youngest daughter, Kyra supplied, "He said he got annoyed when she left her makeup around his sink."

"Aw, poor thing. Another one not ready for commitment?" Reba commented, putting a comforting hand on Cheyenne's shoulder.

Cheyenne shrugged the hand off. "No! Like I said, we couldn't live together."

"If you say so," Reba said, going back to making dinner. "Now why don't you bring the bags to your room and wash up for dinner."

"Again, what the hell was that?" Reba exclaimed as her daughters carried the bags out.

Terry looked at her, then at the other Reba, then back again. "What? I don't see anything…"

"How could you not?" Reba asked in an incredulous tone. "I mean, I just let Cheyenne shack up with a different guy every month? She moves out constantly, then waltzes back in here like it's entitled to her?"

Shrugging, Terry explained, "What can I say, you've become a lot less controlling."

"I'll say! This is ridiculous!" Reba huffed.

Terry was silent for a moment, then asked, "So I guess that means you don't want to change the future?"

"Yes…no…" Reba replied, at a loss for words. "I guess…I guess it's not that bad, if I think about it."

Surprised at her calm reasoning, Terry agreed, "I suppose it isn't. Especially when you consider what your original wish was."

Reba nodded. "Exactly! Cheyenne's a regular young woman just out of college. Kyra's a popular cheerleader. Jake's a great football player…most of the time. Brock hasn't even considered leaving me, well, seriously anyway. And I get to live life without the high blood pressure and headaches of constantly being surrounded by chaos."

"Sounds perfect," Terry remarked.

"Yeah, totally, one-hundred percent…" Reba frowned. "Perfect. Hey, Terry…what happens to Van and Barbara Jean?"

Terry shook his head. "No, no way. It's bad enough I showed you what happens to your own family members. The most I can tell you is that Van is an intern at his father's law firm since he stayed with his parents, and Barbara Jean is still a weather girl and happily married."

"To who's husband," Reba smirked.

"Believe it or not, yes, she did have an affair with another dentist, who left his wife for her. But it wasn't because he was pregnant – he and his wife were already having problems," Terry informed her.

"Still, I'm not surprised," Reba retorted.

There were several moments of silence. Then Terry waved his hand.

Before Reba realized what was happening, they were in front of Cheyenne's bedroom door. Blinking a few times, Reba asked, "What's going on?" She also noted that they weren't glowing anymore, and that her arm didn't go through the wall when she bumped into it..

"You have to decide now," Terry ordered.

Reba stared at him. "What? I thought I still had two months!"

"Not anymore," Terry corrected. "I wasn't supposed to show you what I did. But because I did, I don't have enough power left to keep you in the past any longer without a final word from you."

Wrinkling her brow, Reba said, "I think I understood that. Besides, I'm pretty sure what I want to choose anyway."

"Good. Now, you remember when I said all you had to do to change everything was walk in on Cheyenne and Van at the right time?" Terry reminded her.

Pointing at the door, Reba whispered, "You mean they're on the other side of this door about to…conceive Elizabeth? There's an image I'll never get out of my head."

Terry ignored that and replied, "Now if you want to change the future, all you have to do is…walk on in."

Thinking for a second, Reba nodded and faced the door. "Alright, I'm ready."

She reached for the doorknob.