"Reba!" Narvel hollered as he knocked on the front door of his old Tennessee mansion, stepping away a moment to pace nervously.
"Reba!" He called out knocking once again when there was no answer.
"Reba!" He yelled out this time, urgently, as he began to now repeatedly knock on the door.
"Hold on Brandon."
"Pregnant women gotta pee," Reba mumbled under her breath as she jogged towards the door. Before Shawna had taken Chassidy to the airport, they had called Brandon to make sure he was available to take Reba to her appointment early next week. He had been a little protective when they told him it was an emergency appointment due to the supposed spotting. Even though Reba had assured him that the doctor had assured her it was nothing to worry about, Brandon had insisted she stop by his house, in which she declined until the next morning.
"I told you -" Reba started as she flung the door open, only to be met with Narvel's flustered face.
"You're not Brandon." She muttered in shock, quickly trying to shut the door again to shield herself from him, anxiety causing her to panic. Only it was too late, the new butterfly shirt she had just been trying on, that highlighted her newly bulging tummy, had already given it away.
"What is that?" Narvel mumbled in disbelief as if he'd never seen a pregnant stomach before.
"What's what?" Reba said as she stepped further into her house, the darkness from the hallway casting a shadow on her frightened face.
"Don't play stupid with me." He said bitterly, trying to control his temper.
"How far along are you?"
"You didn't think I deserved to know?" He continued to question, everything just spilling out one after the other.
"Deserve?"
"What makes you think you deserve to be a part of her life?!" Reba spat back bitterly. She had to laugh at that one. He divorced her, screws their friend, drops her from her own company, and now claims that he DESERVES anything from her? No.
"Her?"
"It's a girl?" Narvel breathed out, his anger suddenly dissipating. In that moment he realized that there was an innocent life that Reba was currently carrying. She was currently carrying his flesh and blood, his little girl.
"I don't want you apart of her life."
"I don't need you, just like you didn't need me," Reba stated, walking back into the light, her anger rising with her words.
"I will get full custody of MY daughter and YOU will do nothing about it!" She said pointing at herself, the tag that was still attached to the shirt swimming into view from underneath her arm. Narvel just stood there a moment in silence as she finished. There really wasn't anything left for him to say. There wasn't anything he could do either. He could try to fight it in court but winning against the Queen of Country in Nashville, Tennessee after everyone had been speculating his relationship and loyalty status? He didn't stand a chance.
"You made your bed Narvel, now go lie in it." She said emotionlessly. He couldn't tell but her hands were shaking and the lump in her throat felt like it was multiplying. She had never felt this much panic before but the anger and resentment she had built up for him kept her adrenaline pumping, and somehow her anxiety at bay.
"It's time for you to go."
"And don't come back." She added again as she walked towards the entrance of the door, inadvertently making him walk backward and further onto the porch. She hadn't really envisioned how this confrontation would go but for her daughter's sake, a small part of her had wished he would have fought. Clearly, that was beneath this new Narvel. Standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, Narvel watched as she stepped back into the house, not even bothering to take another look at him, and closing the door behind her. He breathed in a pained breath as he slowly began to walk to his dark gray car, almost hidden in the Tennessee sunset. What was his goal through all of this? He got his answer but he surely didn't feel like a winner. He'd give her time to cool down, he thought. Time to process it all and then maybe when it came closer to the birth of this little girl her mind would be changed, or at least he hoped.
"Honey, why don't you take Reba some of that potato cream cheese soup?" Kelly mumbled as she pressed her forehead sweetly against her husbands, who happened to currently be dozing off in their brown leather chair that was nestled in the family living room.
"Why?" Brandon mumbled softly, as he moved his hands out of his lap, motioning for her to sit down.
"Because Reba can never say no to food."
"And that way you can finally relax." She chuckled softly as she ruffled his dark hair. He'd been on edge ever since Chassidy had called and had him ensure that he'd be able to take Reba to an emergency appointment the day after next. Nobody but him seemed to be bothered by the fact that there appeared to be something unusual going on. They all just kept mentioning how the doctor said everything else looked perfectly fine.
"I guess it wouldn't hurt," Brandon muttered in agreement, cracking a small smile at the thought. He looked down at his phone a moment, in which he'd been holding onto for the last hour, still awaiting news on Chassidy's delayed flight. Rising from her husband's lap, Kelly extended her hand out, in which he quickly grabbed, helping him to his feet.
"You know what you could also do on your way home?" Kelly questioned cheekily as Brandon followed her to their kitchen to retrieve the container of potato soup.
"If you let me guess we'll be here all night." He laughed, grabbing the already prepared soup and bread, along with his keys. Smiling a bit as he realized that she'd had this planned for a while.
"Baby boy Blackstock would really like some tacos." She said softly, licking her lips a little as they both started to turn back towards the front door. Laughing at his wife's craving he kissed her forehead sweetly.
"For you and the boy, anything." He smiled back.
"I'll be home in an hour." He added softly, as they both stood at the entrance of the doorway.
"If you're extra nice you'll make that an hour and fifteen minutes because we all know how perfectly milkshake's go with tacos." She added with a very serious nod as she pulled her gray knit sweater closed, over her own very large and protruding baby bump. Cringing a bit, he laughed again, nodding back at her odd request in agreement, before he then headed outside in the cool spring air. She'd had yet another very rough pregnancy but it seemed the closer she got to her due date the easier it was for her to actually keep food down. Retrieving the craving's she had was the small price he willingly paid as a thank you for two more healthy and happy children. He also couldn't help but grin as he shook his head on his way to his car. He could have sworn that he'd married the sweetest and most loving human being on the planet. Only his wife would find such a sweet and sneaky way to check on his mom.
"Reba?" Brandon called out once he'd arrived at his old family home. He'd knocked once on the large front door and then quietly let himself in.
"I know you said you were fine but I brought food." He called out again. She never said no to food. Walking down the dark hallway he peered around the corner quietly. Why was it so dark in here? From what he could tell the only light that was currently illuminating the house was the dim sunset peering in from the windows. Otherwise, the house was eerily darkened and silent.
"Reba?!" He called out, this time, a small panic starting to rise in his stomach.
"Red it's Brandon." He said once again as he began to pick up his pace, heading in the direction of the kitchen. She was almost always in the kitchen.
"Reba?" He said yet again as he entered from the side, the silence really beginning to terrify him. Walking around the island he noticed what appeared to be a shattered mug, seemingly dropped involuntarily.
"Reba!" Brandon shrieked in shock. The plastic container of soup that was in his hand, dropping to the floor with a thud, once he'd turned the corner, where he found his step-mother collapsed on the hardwood floor. Dropping quickly to his knees he rested his hands softly on her face, causing her head to turn to the side.
"Mom!"
"Oh my god!" He continued to yell, completely terrified. He could tell she was in agony as he watched her for a moment, slipping in and out of consciousness. Rustling through his jean pockets, he quickly pulled out his cell phone, fumbling with it, and accidentally dropping it on the ground. Lurching forward he grabbed it up quickly and in a blur dialed 911. He wasn't even certain he'd hit the right numbers but no sooner than he'd picked up his phone was it up against his ear.
"911 what's your emergency."
"It's my mom." He rasped out in desperation as he continued to hover over her, his eyes wild.
"She's unconscious and pregnant." He continued to rant, trying to find coherent words.
"And there's blood."
"Oh my god there's blood?!" He yelled horrifically in realization as he glanced back down below her abdomen. Reaching out to touch the floor where he'd just noticed the red stain.
"There shouldn't be blood!" He continued, his free hand grabbing a handful of his own hair.
"Sir, I'm going to need you to calm down for a moment." The operator's voice intervened, trying to grasp Brandon's attention.
"Where are you?" She asked calmly, he could hear the clicking of the keyboard as she presumably typed a million words a minute on the other end.
"My house."
"Your house, what's the address?" She asked softly, her voice still stern and calm.
"175 Cherokee Dock Road, Lebanon Tennessee."
"What's your name again?" She persisted.
"Brandon." He responded, his breath returning to a more normal pace, as he reached for Reba's limp hand.
"Okay Brandon, an ambulance is on its way." She reassured.
"Why don't you tell me a little bit of useful information about your mother?" She instructed. He nodded his head in agreement as if she could see him from the other end of the phone.
"How far along is she?"
"About six months. My sisters went with her for her six-month checkup today."
"They said everything was fine!"
"Were they lying?" He questioned frantically, his stress levels beginning to increase once again.
"No, they weren't lying." The lady falsely ensured. Relaxing a bit again, Brandon breathed. He hadn't even thought about the fact that the operator wouldn't have a clue on whether the doctors had lied or not. Even though it was obvious she was just trying to keep him calm so she could collect answers. But before the lady had a chance to ask any more questions, several paramedics busted through the front door of Reba's mansion.
"In here, she's in here!" Brandon called out, directing the bunch towards the kitchen where they readily went to Reba's aid. Standing back and out of the way, Brandon held his breath as he watched them carefully place her on a stretcher, her limp body looking small and fragile as they did so.
"She's going to be okay right?" He mumbled rhetorically as some of the men walked passed him. A younger paramedic, about his age, turned around at his question.
"Time to hop in the ambulance and find out." He said sternly motioning for Brandon to follow him and his team, who were already wheeling Reba out towards the vehicle.