Reba – People In Glass Houses 14
Barbara Jean had promised to meet Reba in the lobby of the courthouse, but she and Terry went on up to the justice of the peace after waiting for twenty minutes. Reba had a showing in an hour across town and had never been late to one before. Besides, this was just a formality. She would live in her house. She had asked Terry to give her that. They would spend three evenings a week together planning. She had no desire right now to give up her job until she practiced the philanthropy thing. He agreed reluctantly because it was her only concession.
Terry's witness was his secretary, a wiry little man who apparently had been with him since he got out of grad school. He was on time because he had to leave for soccer – three of his six kids played. He was pacing outside the office of the justice of the peace.
"Let's just go ahead," said Reba. "There's no telling what Barbara Jean's up to. She won't answer her cell phone. We've all got things to do."
"All right with me," said Terry.
His secretary was visibly relieved. They walked into the office.
Reba was wearing nothing special, just what she normally wore to a showing: black dress pants, a two-inch heel, a fitted cotton jade blouse, and a light unconstructed jacket.. Terry was in khakis and a polo shirt.
Just as the woman behind the counter was about to ask them if she could help them, Barbara Jean burst in.
"Why didn't ya'll wait?" she said.
"We did," said Reba, glaring at her. "For thirty minutes."
"Well," started Barbara Jean, "I was just thinking that…I know you two have made up your mind to get married, and I was the one that got you together…"
Terry's secretary glared at Barbara Jean. "Well, let's get on with it! I'm supposed to be on the soccer field in twenty minutes!"
"…oooooo…I'm just n-n-n-not sure you two really belong together...," said Barbara Jean with trepidation.
"Oh hell, I didn't think it was a good idea either," said the secretary.
"As if you all have any say in the matter," said Reba, and grabbed Terry's arm. "Come on; let's get this over with."
Terry wrenched his arm away from Reba. "What did you say?"
"I said, 'Forget them and let's do this.'"
Terry shook his head, staring at Reba as seriously as a statue. "No, you said, 'Let's get this over with.' I don't want to marry you if you want to just get it over with as soon as possible."
Reba's eyes began to fill with tears as she saw how she was hurting Terry. "I'm sorry, Terry; that was heartless of me. You love me and I want to honor you. Now," she said, taking a deep breath and dabbing at her eyes. "I am committed to this relationship." She smiled. It was a little forced, but no one could tell except Barbara Jean, who began to tear up realizing that Reba meant to go through with it even though she didn't love Terry.
They both turned toward the justice, who had appeared a few moments ago and was patiently waiting her turn.
"Do you want the civil or religious?" said the justice.
Reba said, "Religious" at the same time Terry said, "Civil." Then Terry said "religious" and Reba said "civil."
The justice rolled her eyes and said, "Okay; I'll mix it up. Dearly beloved…"
"Stop!" yelled a familiar voice, and around the corner ran Gary Clinton at top speed. He tripped against an end table and sprawled out on the tile floor face down in between Terry and Reba.
Terry knelt down next to him. "You okay?"
Clint turned his face toward Terry and held out his hand. "Gary Clinton."
Terry shook his hand. "Terry (whatever terry's last name is. Sorry – I don't have the DVDs). Can we help you with something?"
Clint got himself up to address Terry. He still hadn't said a peep to Reba, too afraid to look at her reaction yet.
Reba was speechless. Why had he come? Why did he have to show up now? Did something go wrong with the signing? Van was supposed to take care of that and get the commission. Had he screwed it up? That rat!
Omigosh, Clint hadn't even looked at her or turned around and here she was getting those visions again. Just being in the room with him made her feel radiant all over. She could feel herself glowing. Surely no one noticed. She felt like she was back in high school and the boy she liked was sitting in the desk next to her. Sheesh! And her tongue was tied! She couldn't say even what are you doing or why are you here? She was glued to the floor with her mouth open and her eyes dilated.
Terry was the one Clint needed to speak with now. He'd find out Reba's motives in a minute.
"Terry, I understand you want to marry Reba. I have to ask you one question. Do you love her, cherish her, and honor her? "
The justice said, "Hey, that's my line!" Clint held up his hand. The justice shrugged and took a step back.
Terry turned his head to the side but still kept his eyes on Clint. "Who wants to know?"
"Gary Clinton, elementary school principal, and a former client of Reba's."
Reba frowned and found one word, at least. "Former?"
Clint kept his eyes on Terry but said to Reba, "Shari's buying the house alone."
"You're not-" began Reba, to his back.
He turned around briefly to answer her and she almost fainted at those dancing eyes and that wide, winning smile. "No, I'm not." He whirled back around to Terry.
Terry put his hands on his hips and stepped up to Clint. "Am I to understand that you love Reba, too?"
Clint turned to Reba, who had begun to tremble and flush. Yes. Yes, I do," he said with conviction and a broad smile.
"Then you're going to have to fight me," said Terry.
Barbara Jean let out a giant laugh and stifled it with her hand.
Terry began to hop like a boxer around Clint with his fists up, punching him lightly every so often and feignting and dodging nothing.
"I'm not fighting you, Mr. ," said Clint. "I think Reba needs to make the decision."
"That's not the male way, "said Terry. "Bulls always fight each other for the mare."
An amused smile appeared on Reba's lips. This was Terry's way of handling embarrassing situations – humor always broke the tension and got everyone feeling better. Terry was a genius. No wonder he was a multi-billionaire.
She walked over to Terry and patted him on the back. "It's okay, Mr. Stallion, I think I can make my own decisions."
Terry relaxed and sighed. "So I guess you choose the poor educator guy over me, huh?"
Reba put her arms around Terry. "It's not because you're short. A little bird told me there was ample compensation elsewhere."
Terry pointed at Barbara Jean. "Oh, you."
Barbara Jean winked at him. Terry looked back at Reba. "Could I just request one kiss?"
Reba rolled her eyes. "Oh, well, alright. Here."
And she threw him down in a tango pose and gave him a long, hard one on the lips. Then she set him back upright and stepped away.
Terry blinked and stood briefly, then swayed and wavered before crashing onto the tile floor.
The justice said, "Is there going to be a wedding today?" Reba turned to her, crinkled her nose and shook her head. The justice replied. "Didn't think so," and left.
Barbara Jean squealed, knelt down, and picked up Terry's head. His eyes were rolling around. "How many fingers, Terry?" asked Barbara Jean.
"Um, seventeen?" said Terry.
Barbara Jean was about to dial 911 when one of the workers in the office said, "I'm an EMT in my spare time; let me take a look."
Once everyone in the office was looking at Terry, Clint took Reba's hands gently and led her out into the hall.
"I can't believe you love him, even if he is filthy rich and a really great guy," said Clint,leaning against the wall.
"Well, I really don't," said Reba, still flushing madly. "I hope he doesn't take it too hard."
Reba peeked around the door and looked at Barbara Jean, who was kissing on Terry and fussing over him. The EMT had to push her out of the way. Terry was loving it, too.
"I think Barbara Jean will help him get over it," said Clint,as Reba turned around to face him again.
"You know," said Reba, "They are made for each other. I don't know why I didn't see that at the beginning."
"But you were not made to be worshipped from afar like some Grecian goddess. You need someone you love passionately who will love you right back. You need a mental, emotional, and spiritual challenge. And I think you need a physical challenge as well."
Reba's legs went to jelly, but she steeled herself. She didn't want to miss any of this –it was too good. Again, she found herself mute. It was okay, because Clint wasn't done quite yet. He was still leaning with his back against the wall and his head turned toward her. Reba was leaning her side against the wall, a couple of feet away from Clint. She could smell him from here. He was still damp from running from his parking place two blocks away and then up four flights of stairs. But he didn't smell bad. He just smelled…Clint-y. She took a deep breath of him and enjoyed it more than the air in a bakery.
Clint tried to look serious but his hope got the better of him and he had to smile a little bit. "Is there someone else besides Terry that might be up to your challenge? Someone who may have no money, but fell in love the first time he saw you and who has not been able to get you out of his head from day one?"
Reba finally found her voice again and stepped close to Clint. "How about let's find out?" she said.
Then she turned to face him and pressed her body against his. She breathed in his scent once more and couldn't help but let out a little "MMMmm…" Then she lifted her face slowly and put her lips an inch away from his. "Are you ready to find out?"
Clint smiled, "Oh, I already know." And he let her move her mouth on top of his.
Oh, sweet baby cinnamon rolls, thought Reba, nothing has ever tasted this sweet or lit me up like a Vegas marquee. Am I still on the planet?
Clint was 'way past the planet and moving toward another galaxy. He had to strain his mind to remember they were in a public hall so he wouldn't touch her where he wanted to touch her or make the sounds he wanted to make. He was already planning moves he had thought about at night for weeks.
Suddenly, an elevator door opened and a gurney clattered onto the hall tile floor. Clint and Reba broke the kiss and simply held each other, looking into each others' eyes, stunned at the power of the passion between them.
"You'd better keep holding me,' cause I could fall down right now," she said, her eyes half open.
"I've got you now," said Clint. "Don't even think for a minute that I'll let you go."
The EMTs rolled Terry out on a gurney with Barbara Jean right behind. "Can I ride in the ambulance?"
"Are you his wife?" asked one.
"No," she said.
"Then, no." They put Terry in the elevator and wouldn't let Barbara Jean on. "You can sit and wait in the emergency room like all the other girlfriends."
The elevator door closed. Barbara Jean stood there, clasping her hands to her chest as if she had just won Miss America. "His girlfriend!" she cried. "They called me his girlfriend!" And she opened the door to the stairs to go to the hospital.
Terry's secretary was the next out the door. "This was a total waste of time," he said, checking his watch.
"Sorry," said Reba.
"Not as sorry as I am," he replied and also went down the stairs.
"So," said Clint, snuggling Reba. "How about dinner?"
Suddenly, Reba screamed. "My clients!" She looked at her watch. "I have to show a house in fifteen minutes!"
"School's out for the day for me," said Clint. "Mind if I tag along?"
Reba was already on the move, dragging Clint by the hand. "Come on, old man; get a move on."
"Old man? Oh, don't you start that. You cannot take me on the old thing. We'll take my car," he said.
"Your car? It's fifteen years old. It will make it look like I never sell any houses," said Reba.
They got in the elevator, which had finally come back up.
"And your van makes you look like you sell houses every day?"
"Hey, said Reba as the doors closed, "With the price of gas, it looks like I sell mansions when I drive a gas guzzlers like my van."
But once the doors closed, it was almost as if they were magnetized to each other. Clint was all over Reba with his hands. He couldn't stop himself. She couldn't either. But it was only six floors on a speedy elevator.
So when the elevator hit the ground floor and they broke apart there waas not a lot of straightening of clothes to do before the door opened. And it was a good thing too, because about ten people stood ready to walk in. And every single one of them could tell beyond a shadow of a doubt what Clint and Reba had been doing in the elevator. They all smiled as Reba and Clint got off.
"He's a cutie!" said one woman to Reba. "I don't blame you!"
"Lucky bastard," said one thirty-something guy in a suit to Clint.
Once in the car, Reba said, "I think we need some ground rules."
"OK," said Clint. "When I can get you on the ground, I will make passionate love to you."
Reba grinned, her eyes still on the road. "We need to date. I mean, seriously, we've known each other what, six weeks? I don't know where you were born or what your first pet's name was."
Clint closed his eyes. "Damn. And all this time you came across as a loose woman."
Reba rolled her eyes. "Right. Was it the tailored clothes or the van that gave it away?"
"So what do I need to do in order to…um…take it to the next level?"
"Oh, so that's what the kids are calling it these days?"
Clint sighed. "Reba, it's okay.I love you. I would rather not wait, of course; that's just implied. And trust me,I will still continue to ask. But I won't go any farther than you want."
"That's what I'm afraid of,"said Reba. "I almost lost it in the elevator."
Clint frowned. "Lost it? You were married for twenty years!"
"Control, Clint; I almost lost control. Virginity has nothing to do with it."
"But lovemaking is best when it's out of control."
"But in a setting with parameters. I'd like to have a wild fling,too. Never had one. Ever. But I have Jake at home, a job, a spotless medical history, and a not-so-great track record with emotional relationships."
"But I think the control part is the problem. You know me and you love me. What other parameters do you need?"
"I'm a divorced woman, Clint. I need to know that you can stand up to my worst parts. Brock couldn't take it. I can get really mean."
"Reba," said Clint. "Please. I am an elementary school principal. I just expelled a fourth grader for dealing and carrying concealed. You don't know mean."
"But that was a kid. How hard could it be? You pick him up and throw him out the window."
"When I say 'mean,' I'm talking about his 350 pound mother with the phrase, 'I Kill You" carved –not tattooed, carved- into her left bicep."
Reba gulped. "Elementary school sure is different than when Jake left."
"You can't scare me, Reba. Unless you break your leg or something."
Reba had to look at him briefly and smile.
OK, I'm going past The Wedding Planner plot. Are ya'll still interested? I think I have one or two more chapters in me. I like a neat, tidy ending.