So if you're wondering why it's been so long – three words: Grapes of Wrath. Enjoy!!

Reba was nervous as she approached Brocks condo. It looked different even from the outside – colder. She didn't want to think it was because BJ was gone, but what else had changed since she'd been there?

She knocked three knocks on the door and waited. It only took a moment or two and the door slowly opened, and there was Brock. He was wearing a gray faded T-Shirt that once said "Salt Lake City" from a short vacation the family had taken years ago. His face was pale, except for around the eyes where you could see he had been crying. Reba had seen him like this before very rarely, and it only killed her more to see that he was suffering for BJ like he had never suffered for her. The pain was horrible, but she had developed a habit of forgetting herself when Brock needed her. Because he needing her was something she had missed for so long, so she opened her arms and let him cry on her shoulder, and held him tight as she dared.

Once Brock had a better grip and remembered the neighbors may be watching, the two entered his condo and he immediately collapsed on the couch and buried his head in his hands, no longer crying, but still in pain. Reba stood awkwardly for a moment and asked, "Brock, can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks."

"When did you last eat?" No answer, and she knew what that silence meant; he couldn't remember. "You need to eat, Brock. You'll feel a little better. So, grill cheese?"

Brock couldn't resist and in a few minutes he was eating like a pig. She waited patiently until he was full then took the dishes to the kitchen. She'd never been this far into their house before, but she could almost feel the absence of everything BJ had given to the house; Beanie Babies, girlish candles and fragrances, wall fairies…everything that had made up for the absence of her, Reba, in Brocks life. And now it was gone, and even she could feel the joy that had slipped through the cracks of the house. But it just kept getting emptier and emptier, and she just didn't know what to do. She wished that she could have stopped this long before it happened – that she had fought for Brock so BJ never could have taken her place...

Reba made her way back to the living room where Brock was still grief-stricken, but not hungry anymore. At least she'd managed to fill the most important part of a man: His stomach. Silently she sat down next to him, watching him. She wasn't sure what there was to say.

"Brock, what happened?" she said finally. It took a moment for him to respond.

"She…started to doubt me. I can't blame her for that… she said, 'You left a wife and three kids…how do I know you won't leave us?'"

Reba's eyes bulged. "She said that?" Somehow, she couldn't picture blonde, cheesy-smiling, Beanie-Baby loving, floral-print-wearing BJ to have the guts or nerve to let that out. Reba filled her cheeks with air and slowly let it out, then said as kindly as possible, "Do you want me to talk to her?"

"That's not your job, Reba; I wouldn't make you do that."

"But if you want her back-"

"I don't." His words were quiet, but they seemed to echo around the room like a pipe oregon. Reba couldn't believe her ears. "What?" she asked, gaping. "After all this…" she ran out of breath, not able to believe it. She wanted Brock to explain himself, and at the same time was angry enough to slap him in the face. But she didn't; he was in enough pain right now.

"Brock, you don't mean that. You two had a fight and now you're making decisions you shouldn't be making in this state – "

"No, that's what I did with you." Reba wished he'd stop that – saying all these things she'd been dying to hear, all too late. Taking a deep breath, she said exasperatedly, "When did this start?"

Brock sighed and shrugged. "It really didn't start out well…" Reba let out a 'psh!' as low as she could. "…after we found out she was pregnant, everything was more of an obligation. She must have sensed it…she's not as stupid as she looks." Now Reba didn't try to let her 'psh!' out low. For as long as she'd known Barbra Jean, she'd never gotten a vibe of sense from her. Brock sighed again from Reba's scorn and didn't speak for another minute. Finally he went on, "But she was right; I would have never left my family if I didn't have to. When we'd fight she always brought you into the picture, and the kids. I hated it, she hated it. It was just…bad, Reba."

Reba was quiet now. She almost wished they were having this discussion over the phone, because it was easier to get through these awkward silences then (AN – Don't ask me why, it's just like that). She chewed on her nail, wishing she knew just what to say; it was so much easier to comfort him when they were married. She could make him smile whenever she wanted to, but now it just wasn't like that. She could fill his stomach, listen to his story, but not make him happy. Brock had lost two women in the past year and now he just didn't know what he wanted. Worried, she glanced over at him, only to find that he was asleep. She couldn't help but roll her eyes and think 'Men'.

All the same, she gently made him lay on the couch with a pillow beneath his head and a soft blanket to cover him. Then she left, after writing a note that said:

Brock – Call me if you need anything. Love always, Reba.

As soon as she was in the car she turned on the radio, hoping to get her mind going more positively. It worked; they weren't playing any depressing songs. She felt her mood getting slightly better as she pulled in the driveway of her home, but it was sucked away when she realized she'd wasted all that time trying to feel better when she could have been thinking of a way to tell her kids that BJ was gone.

Luckily Reba found herself in a sleeping house, but she was way too lost in thought to find room for relaxation. So she poured herself a glass of milk and tried to put her scattered thoughts in place. None of the kids seemed to like BJ very much anyway, but how would she answer little Jake when he asked "So why don't you and Daddy get back together?" It just wasn't that simple. Could she just automatically trust Brock like that again? If not BJ there could be someone else, and she just didn't think it was her; he wasn't out of his mid-life crisis yet. Maybe they could just…

She shook her head fiercely. She could think about that later…now she needed to think about the best way to break it to the kids. But she didn't get much farther, and ten minutes later, the last thing she expected happened – there was a knock at the door.

Who would be coming here at this hour? She thought, trying to look through the glass. Reba couldn't see through the glass on the door, but she guessed it was Brock, waking up and needing to talk some more. How surprised she was to look up and see a 6-foot, 6 month pregnant blonde biting her lip at her.

In that moment Reba felt her heart harden. She'd accepted BJ breaking her heart, but Brocks? There was a difference - a big, big difference. Not only was she jealous of this woman, but she was angry: She'd broken her heart, her family, Brocks heart and his new family. She was like…Godzilla.

"Barbra Jean," she said stiffly.

"Reba." Pause. "I think we should talk."

Sorry for such a short chapter after such a long time!! School is really starting to interfere with my free time. We need to rethink that whole system, know what I'm saying? Ha ha so until next time!!!