She was unable to properly hear everything Barbra Jean was saying. Her head was throbbing as she placed it against the cold table, phone still at her ear.
"Lori Ann?" She could hear Lori Ann tell Cheyenne what she had overheard and she could feel her daughter's arms wrap around her.
"Mom? Can you give me your phone?" Cheyenne's voice was right next to her ear, and she could feel the phone being taken right out of her hand.
"Hello Barbra Jean?" Her parents had told her of her snooty rejection of their wedding invitation and she could not help but feel herself make a sound of disdain, "Why is my dad in the hospital?"
As much as Cheyenne could hear or understand, it had something to do with balls.
"Balls? That's the part that matters the most." Lori Ann pointed out with passion.
"I don't think that's what she meant, Lori Ann," Cheyenne was every bit concerned with this and needed to pass on the instructions for Reba, who had all of his insurance policy information. The two of them saw that Reba was totally unfit to fly to Minnesota but she was hysterical, drunkenly hysterical but by the time she was at the boarding gate with a last minute ticket, she had awakened from a slumber that left her head pounding but clearer. Brock was in the emergency room, he was hurt, he was in pain.
She was walking out the unfamiliar airport, her mind all on Brock, when she spotted someone tall, blonde, and Barbra Jean.
"Reba daba doo!" Barbra Jean's face was contorted with emotion, as she pulled Reba into a death grip.
"Barbra Jean," Reba was breathless, choking out her name. When she was let go, the first state of matter was discussed in the calm demeanor Reba tried to be in.
"Well, what did Brock get himself into?" She bit her lip in anticipation for anything that could have possibly happened.
"Ah ha, Reba!" Barbra Jean was laughing nervously as she took Reba to the side, before hissing out with her hands clasped, "I lied. Brock's fine!"
"WHAT?" The woman in front of her was truly mad.
"It was the only way I knew I could see you again!" Barbra Jean dramatically looked at the departures board. It was very hard to keep her lie, "I wanted to call Steve, that was your pilot's name, but I confused his number with Joe, the other pilot? Then I had to call your home phone and tell someone the truth but you were already flying. So here you are!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Barbra Jean," Reba was trying hard not to lose her temper, "You could have just called us up. Not tell me Brock was lyin' unconscious in some hospital!"
"I never said unconscious," Barbra Jean scoffed with a flip of her hair, "I just said that he got hit with a paintball gun."
"Where is Brock?" Reba's voice was as muted as it could possibly be, her eyes glaring at Barbra Jean as evilly as when she first realized she was Brock's mistress.
"Reba, relax," Barbra Jean peered around the airport, "He took Henry to the wee-wee,"
Reba groaned. She was glad that she had an open return flight but not so delighted she was tricked and fully drunken when she was boarding on to some aircraft just to talk to Barbra Jean face-to-face in some foreign location.
Her eyes were still closed, fists clenched and resting on her hips, when she heard his familiar voice.
"Reba? What are you doing here?"A confused Brock was standing in front of her, holding Henry's hand.
"Can I talk to you alone?" Reba hushedly whispered to Brock, her nostrils flared.
"Barbra Jean said you were in the hospital!" Reba was ready to put someone in the hospital.
"What? Are you kidding me?" Brock had to look at his ex-wife who was talking to Henry.
"You didn't know?" She was skeptical.
"Of course I didn't!" He put his hands in the air.
"Alright," She nodded, suddenly in grateful comprehension that nothing had happened to her beloved, "I was scared."
He could see her bite her lower lip and he fought the urge to hug her. When she folded her arms, it was then that Brock could not keep his hands off of her by that point, pulling her in for a quick smooch before the two returned to the scene.
"Alright, Barbra Jean, it was nice seeing you. I have to go exchange for a ticket at the counter now," Reba held up her ticket and ID card.
"No wait," Her voice was as serious as when she called her about Brock's "accident", "I've been meaning to say this. I give both of you my blessing and I hope that you have the happy ending I have with Adam. However, I think it is best for all of us to forget what has happened. I love Adam and I don't want him to know of my past. It would kill me if he knew who I once was. That is why I can't attend your wedding."
Reba was the first to break the silence.
"Like it or not, Barbra Jean, you'll always be connected with us," She had considered Barbra Jean family in all practicality, "You and Brock have mutual children, for Goodness sakes!"
"One child." Brock had to input as Reba paused to glare at him before she continued. He took his hand off her waist.
"And you are..." She trailed off as Barbra Jean perked up.
"Are?"
"You're one of my dearest friends, Barbra Jean!" Her voice was raised and suddenly she was wrapped into another giant hug by the weather girl.
"Oh Reba Reba Reba Reba!" She was chanting before she released her with a satisfied grin on her face. She reached into her purse and pulled out a card that she handed to her and with a look of awe on her face, she proclaimed, "Every time you say that, I have a Hallmark card ready to give you. I believe this is the one with the teddy bears."
"Flowers," Reba had opened the envelope and noticed the design.
"Right," She pointed and she hesitated before she pulled another thing out of her bag.
"Since I won't be able to make it, I have compiled a mix tape for you." Reba had to look at Brock before the two of them accepted their wedding gift.
"And the other gift didn't fit in my purse, so I will send it your address," Barbra Jean patted her tiny purse, "Well, take care of Henry. Good bye!"
The presents didn't end there. When they arrived home, Van and Cheyenne were shouting "Surprise!" as if it were a poorly planned birthday party.
"What's going on here?" Brock prodded Henry into the house, where he ran up the stairs with his little backpack on.
"Kyra came up with this idea, actually." Cheyenne waved her hands excitedly, looking at her younger sister.
"Mama?" Reba glanced at the only person who was calm in the living room and her presence deemed her as the spokesperson.
"Reba, I think you need a break. You must be tired and that is why we are going to take over the wedding planning." Helen enunciated each word.
"Mom, you must be swamped." Cheyenne nodded to her husband. She knew that her mother had planned her last two wedding ceremonies with all her heart and at the end of the day, she was always so tired, "And once we found about the Dad not being hurt thing, we decided you guys need a break from all of this."
"We don't want you fainting at your own wedding." Van murmured, bringing back the memories that gave everyone a good scare the last time Van and Cheyenne tried to renew their vows.
"Oh you guys!" Reba had not even realized the stress of having so many guests in town for the wedding, living in her house. When she looked over at Brock, she unconsciously shuddered at the thought of Liz Hart coming over. Brock raised his eyebrows at this unwarranted action,"It's nothing! Mama and Daddy, you are my guests! As for you kids, I'm sure y'all are busy. It's fine. Brock and I can handle this ourselves."
Van suddenly burst out laughing, grabbing his sides. When all eyes were on him, he scratched the back of his head.
"You didn't find that funny?" He gestured at Reba and Brock standing at the bottom of the stairs, "Well come on! I mean, Mrs. H is doing everything!"
They returned blank stares at him as he nodded and looked at his feet.
"Mom please let us do this for you," Cheyenne pressed on, walking up to her Mom and Dad.
"That's not fair to you! It's just not right for my children to be planning my wedding." Reba smoothed her daughter's blonde hair.
"Nonsense." JV McKinney spoke for the first time since Reba walked in, his arms folded, "I believe it is the father of the bride that's payin' for the wedding, carrot top."
"Daddy. It's fine," Reba couldn't help but smile at the familiar boom of her father's voice. Her father was not going to pay, that was something else she was going to have to talk to him about.
"Is that back talk, Reba?" Helen pursed her lips, sitting next to her husband on the couch.
"No!" Reba turned to Brock for any support but he was all for it. "Well, what's there left for me to do?"
"Awww! Thanks Mom!" Cheyenne hugged her mother tightly before beaming at her father, "We won't let you down! Come on, Kyra!"
The two sisters walked into the kitchen as Van lingered on, smiling stupidly at his parent-in-laws before turning around and joining Cheyenne and Kyra.
When Helen unfolded her arms, she held out her hand to her daughter. She was holding out a pair of keys.
"You two deserve a little holiday." She dropped the keys in her daughter's palms.
"Oh no, it's fine, Mama!" Reba shook her head as Brock began to smile to himself in thought of two whole days with Reba until his own name was mentioned, "-Brock and I are going to have a honeymoon, too. A trip before the wedding is too much. We don't need it."
"Reba, it's fine. They can handle themselves. It's the five of them against one of you," He pouted at her, knowing she would always cave in to that. It wasn't often the grandparents could come in and watch the kids anyway. He decided it was safe to joke with her now, "And you want a honeymoon?"
She gasped as she whacked him on the arm with a snide glare.
"It's just at a local hotel. Believe me, Reba, we'll call if we need anything." Helen patted her daughter's hands over the keys. She knew that all controlling aspect of her daughter. She inherited from her.
"You sure, Mama?" Reba did not want to burden them.
"We're sure. And so are your suitcases," She guided their two eyes to the top of the stairs, where Jake was standing with one suitcase for Brock and one for Reba.
"Aw, Jake, you didn't have to do that, buddy!" Brock nodded to himself as he met Jake halfway to take the luggage from him.
"I didn't pack them. Cheyenne and Van did." He shrugged as Reba turned red thinking of the kids digging through her closet. She had a feeling of what exactly was in her suitcase, knowing her eldest daughter.
"Ready, you two?" Van walked back into the living room, nodding to the back door, "Rhonda's waiting."
They really wanted them gone. The last time she was allowed in Rhonda was before scraping its door. And the two of them nodded, for it was all they could do.
"Reba honey?"
The redhead turned to look at her mother once more.
"Everyone deserves a little holiday," Mother knows best indeed.
A/N: They need their moments. :) And maybe because I've listening to "Love Needs A Holiday" nonstop.