"Mom? Mom, what's the matter?"
Reba jumped. She was in the kitchen, sitting on a stool, her chin on her fist. Cheyenne and Van were in front of her, Cheyenne waving her hand in front of her face.
"Huh? Oh, nothing, nothing's the matter!"
"Mrs. H, you suck at lying," Van laughed. Reba glared, and he shut up.
"Where have you been all afternoon?" Cheyenne asked, sitting herself and Van at the table.
"I was at your Dad and Barbara Jean's counseling session. Not fun," she assured them.
"Did something happen?"
Reba nodded. "I guess you could say that…"
"Between Dad and Barbara Jean?" Cheyenne pressed.
"Between all of us," Reba sighed, wondering how to explain without giving it all away. "They're separated, BJ moved out with Henry."
"Oh, that's terrible!" Cheyenne brought her hands to her mouth. "Well is she coming here? Did you ask her?"
"No…" Reba admitted.
"Mom!" Cheyenne groaned. "You're her only friend, you should have asked her!"
"Wait – are you two in a fight?" Van asked.
Rebas head snapped up. "Why would you ask something silly like that?"
"Because Barbara Jean wouldn't wait for an invite – she'd just come on over! Did you call her a mean name?" Van scolded.
"No!"
"Then why isn't she sitting here making your life Hell?" Van demanded, Cheyenne nodding along.
Reba sighed. "We did…hypothetically…kinda-sorta…get in a fight…in a way…but Brock started it!" she finished strong.
"Mom, what went on in there? Tell us now!"
Reba began to feel like she had when she was eight and gotten her siblings distracted in a fight so that she could steal their cookies. She began to go very red and looked at her lap while these teenage-parents stared her down.
"Barbara Jean is mad at me because Brock claims to still have feelings for me," she finally let out. Van and Cheyenne's jaws dropped.
"WHAT?"
"Well, you wanted the truth!" Reba defended herself, scooting back into the kitchen island.
"And what did you say?" Cheyenne demanded.
"Well, what was I supposed to? I didn't really say anything – I just said I wasn't sure how I felt!"
"Mom, go talk to Dad." Cheyenne ordered, pointing to the door.
"But..!" Reba began, but then Cheyenne was on her feet, hands on her hips, giving her 'the look'.
Van joined in. Positioning himself exactly like his wife, he said, "Now!"
Reba stuck out her tongue as she left into the early evening.
As much as she hated this, she knew they were right and that's what kept her walking to Brocks.
Now she was at his back door. Reba stared at her feet. This would be hard, but she tried to stay calm. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door, and opened it.
Brock was sitting at the counter, staring at a bottle of beer in his hand. He did a double-take as he noticed who had just walked in.
"Reba…"he began to stand up, but she held up her hand.
"Shut up, sit down, and get me a beer," Reba instructed and sat across from him. He smiled grimly.
"This is the last one."
"How could you drink every beer in-"
"I didn't drink every single one, there's such a thing as running low!" Brock snapped.
Reba took a calming breath and said, "Fine. Okay, look, Brock – the marriage counselor may think the door will never be gone, but I say differently."
"Reba, the man graduated from Harvard, he's majored in this kind of stuff."
"Well, I was married to you for twenty years, I've majored in your kind of stuff! And here's how it goes: We cannot work – we tried, we really did, but the reason we couldn't work is walking away from you and I think you need to go after her!" Reba begged.
Brock shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you?"
"No, I don't! But that only makes me more frustrated! Brock, when are you gonna make up your mind!"
"As soon as you tell me that you don't love me."
Reba stared at him, her chest heaving. How could this be put on her? Why did their marriage depend on her – why was she the other woman now? Why did Brock always have to make things so difficult, change his mind, break up family?
Reba sighed, staring at her lap. "Brock there's no reason for it to come to that."
"There is every reason for it to come to that, that's why BJ's mad! Now, do you love me or not?"
Reba looked straight in his eyes, and wasn't prepared. The conflict swarmed her.
She could see the years of love they'd shared, cherished. How she had woken up every single morning in his arms, seen the light shining on them. The children they had raised, the smiles, the tears of joy. How he had held her and they'd created so many memories…before he'd hurt her.
Then she saw how he'd displayed his new ardent affections for Barbara Jean, in front of her. He'd cheated, lied, had such little respect for her feelings. He'd left her when she needed him so much, left her hanging, still loving him….she knew she hadn't moved on yet from that yet, and she didn't need another setback.
Now he was asking her if she still did love him. And she knew the answer, the cold answer that had sat undisturbed in a dark place for years now.
Finally, she spoke. "I promised I always would…but if I could take that back…." She began to choke up and looked away.
He understood: She did love him. She'd always loved him, always would, but didn't want to. The kind of love she'd sworn was unconditional, but involuntary. And now she felt like it was all wasted…on him.
"Can you believe that I understand what you mean?" Brock asked quietly. "I know that you could – you should – hate me, and I always thought that you did. But can you believe that I never let go either?"
"You did, Brock. You let go. But a piece of me fell with you somehow," Reba sighed.
"So, in a sense…we're still together?"
"But we shouldn't be."
"No."
Each took a break from speaking, avoiding eye contact. Finally Reba asked, "What now?"
"Nothing. Not yet. We bring it up in counseling." Brock answered, shrugging.
"You mean, go back? You honestly think that man can help? Brock, his job was to get you and Barbara Jean back together, not get us…you know!" Reba reminded him.
"His job was to find any problems and helps us with them." Brock corrected.
"Oh…then I guess he was right about me."
"Huh?"
"I am your guys' biggest issue," Reba sighed. "Just not for the reasons he mentioned."
"He never said that – he said that you might be making things harder for us because you were my ex," again Brock corrected.
"Well…okay, I'll go back." Reba agreed. "Now I better leave, Cheyenne and Van will burst in any second if I'm not home soon." She stood and walked to the door.
"Wait!" Brock stopped her and hurried to her side. "Look…can I sleep over at yours tonight?"
"Why?" Reba joined her eyebrows together.
"I…Reba, I know it's silly, but I can't imagine staying here alone. If you don't want me to, that's fine, but if I could just crash on the couch that'd be great…"
Reba huffed, knotting her eyebrows together. Then she said, "Fine, c'mon over. But…" she paused before letting them both out the door. "Don't mention anything to the kids about all this…it shouldn't involve them."
Brock nodded, then remembered. "Kyra! Look, I'll be over there in a few minutes with her – she'll understand."
Reba cocked her head as Panic! At the disco began to blare from Kyra's room. She actually laughed. "Yeah, that's our angel, always understanding." She was still chuckling as Brock shut the door behind her.
Even though it had hurt to bring up her feelings again, letting Brock know had somehow raised an enormous burden from her mind. Rising with it, however, was a million problems and questions.
And one problem was standing, blonde haired and 5'10" tall, at her front door.