Part III

They had more than two dinners. They'd planned on two, but 'dinner' turned out to be so satisfying that they made a date every week. For over a month they sneaked out to meet each other like forbidden lovers. While Jake was at Cheyenne and Van's house, or his friend's house, or really anywhere else, they made reservations at their favorite restaurants. Then they would always take food home to Reba's house. Which house they used didn't matter since they were only blocks away, but she preferred her own room. The thought of carrying on their "affair" in the house where Barbra Jean lived...

She never needed to explain. Brock felt the same way.

As September turned into October, Reba started to get nervous about being caught. Things were going too well. They were having so much fun since they didn't have the pressure of an actual relationship. Unlike their marriage, they didn't have to worry about paying bills together or raising young kids. All their old issues didn't affect them anymore. Remembering a conversation she'd once had with Cheyenne, she supposed she had a case of the "going good blues." Either she and Brock would call it off soon, or someone in the family would find out. Their blissful little bubble couldn't last forever.

Even Brock felt the anxiety whenever he saw their kids, or talked to Barbra Jean on the phone. They decided to cool off for a bit when Kyra returned from her tour. The observant eighteen-year-old wouldn't need more than a day to pick up on weird behavior between her parents.

Reba thought Jake had been oblivious to all this, especially with school starting, but one day he became very somber while having his afternoon snack. Reba was cleaning up the kitchen before she left to show clients a house. Since Jake had just turned thirteen, she decided to let him stay home by himself for short amounts of time.

"Hey, Mom?" Jake asked innocently, his snack almost done.

She smiled at him while she put away clean dishes. "Yes, Jake?"

"Are you and Dad sick?"

Hesitating, Reba put down the plate she'd been holding. "No, of course not, honey. What in the world would make you think that?"

Jake looked immensely relieved by her assurance. "Oh, it's nothing. I was wondering why you and Dad were so itchy."

Dear Lord.

Positive she would burst out laughing, Reba stared up at the ceiling while she regained her composure. "Scratching an itch" had become her and Brock's code for when they were in the mood. They even made jokes about it, trying to out-do each other with subtle puns that went over their family members' heads. They even played the game in front of Van and Cheyenne.

Finally she managed to reply, "Don't worry about it, Jake. Just, uh...something that happens to people when they're older."

"Are you sure? When Jimmy got poison ivy, his mom..."

Reba shook her head. "We'll be okay." She bit the inside of her cheek, shaking from bubbling laughter as Jake finished his snack and ran up to his room When she was sure he couldn't hear her, she let loose and laughed until tears streamed down her face.

They had a small homecoming party for Kyra. Brock, Van, Cheyenne and the kids came over for dinner that night to congratulate the guest of honor. Jake pretended to be upset that his big sister had returned, but everyone knew he didn't truly mean it.

While Kyra's return would have been enough to celebrate, the singer had news. Her band had offers from several indie labels and managers. The band wanted to spend the next few weeks making decisions about their future. Meanwhile, they'd already started working on an official album. So far they'd only made a demo to sell on tour.

Later on, after Van and Cheyenne's family left, the remaining family members sat around the living room finishing up slices of ice cream cake. Not for the first time that night, Reba spontaneously trapped her middle child in a fierce hug. "I'm so glad you're home!"

Returning the hug, Kyra joked, "Never would've guessed, Mom." Her eyes filled with rare sentimentality as she glanced at the ice cream cake. "Thanks for the party. You didn't have to."

"Of course we did!" Brock insisted. He sat in the club chair closest to the door, a goofy grin on his face and a dessert plate in his hand. "My daughter, the rock star. Were the fans crazy? Did they wave their lighters in the air, chanting Ky-ra, Ky-ra?"

While Reba and Jake laughed, Kyra attempted modesty. "Not really, we mostly opened for bigger acts. Although I did turn down a bunch of drunken marriage proposals."

"Not from the band members, I hope," Brock replied.

Kyra only chuckled and shook her head, knowing her parents worried about her touring with all guys. "So, I feel like I've been talking about myself all night." She frowned, averting eye contact with either parent. "How has it been here, you know...without Barbra Jean? I stopped by to see her when we passed through Arkansas. She's doing good there."

Reba and Brock paused, exchanging discreet glances. "Well it's certainly been, uh...quieter," Reba finally replied.

"Dad's over a lot," Jake supplied, making his parents even more nervous. "We have dinner together almost every night. Sometimes I come home from a sleepover, and he's already here in the morning. We have breakfast together too."

His parents winced. Confused, Kyra slowly put her dessert plate back on the coffee table. "Wow. Sounds like everyone's getting along just fine." She narrowed her eyes at each of her parents, noted their guilty expressions, wondered if the insinuation could possibly be true. "More than fine. Odd that I'm noticing now, but you two haven't traded insults all night."

Reba tried for a casual shrug. "We've changed, I guess, like everyone else."

"Maybe," Kyra conceded, not fully convinced. "I mean, you did call Barbra Jean your 'best friend.'"

Relieved that his daughter let the subject go, Brock put his plate on the table and stood up to leave. "It's late, so I'm going to head back. Kyra, I do remember that you were staying with your mom, but any time you want to sleep over in your old room, just let me know. I can't guarantee there will be anything decent in the fridge, but..."

"Got it, Dad. Thanks."

When Jake and Kyra started talking about the tour again, Reba calmly went to meet Brock at the door. "We'll have to be even more careful than we thought," she whispered.

Brock nodded in agreement. "Yeah, when Jake said what he did about breakfast I thought for sure..."

"I know. She's probably still suspicious." Reba paused, realizing she and Brock would have to take an official break from each other. "So, um...the next time the house is empty for the night..."

Smiling, Brock replied, "It's a date."

"What are you guys whispering about?" Kyra called, half-joking, half-accusing.

Jake didn't look fazed. "They're probably itchy again. They talk about it a lot."

Putting two and two together, Kyra's jaw dropped while Brock made a fast exit. "'Night everyone!" He didn't even look at Reba as he ran out to the porch.

Reba brushed off the incident, strolling over to the coffee table to clean up dessert. "So Kyra, you're probably tired after a day of traveling. Why don't you unpack your stuff and I'll clear the table?"

For the rest of the week, Reba lied through her teeth whenever Kyra asked about the status of her parents' relationship. "Nothing's going on!" she'd insisted many times, her fingers crossed behind her back. "Come on, me and your dad? I would never! We broke up for a reason, and him being single doesn't change that."

She'd prayed God wouldn't strike her down.

By the weekend, Kyra mercifully let up on the subject while she put her focus back on the band. They had phone interviews with half a dozen managers and labels. They picked a manager right away but couldn't decide where to record their first full album. Over the summer they'd passed through southern states mostly, so she'd never be too far away, but she didn't oppose the idea of picking a major city in Texas like Houston or Austin.

Reba hated herself for having mixed feelings about this. She'd be thrilled if Kyra stayed home a little longer before going off into the world, especially since the singer insisted on not going to college. On the other hand...if Kyra stayed home, this "thing" with Brock would be over. Reba wasn't good enough of a liar to actively hide such a big secret.

Anyway, she didn't want to be a good liar. All this sneaking around reminded her too much of Brock and Barbra Jean's affair. She wasn't Barbra Jean. They either had to stop this completely, or tell the family they were a couple again.

Were they a couple? Did she want a romantic relationship, engagement, and marriage, all with a man she'd been through it with before?

Her logical objectivity went out the window one weekend when Kyra left for an overnight music festival. Without even realizing what she was doing, she suggested to Jake that he go sleepover one of his friend's houses. He didn't need much convincing. Her house would be empty for the first time in over a month.

Reba and Brock rushed through their usual dinner, skipping dessert before hoping back in the car less than an hour after they'd arrived. They didn't fall asleep until the early hours of the morning. This was why, despite knowing Kyra planned to return that day, Reba and Brock slept until almost ten.

The alarm bells didn't sound even when Reba trekked down to the kitchen to start the coffeemaker. She felt too relaxed to worry about anything.

Her satisfied smile remained in place as her daughter walked into the kitchen from the living room. "Good morning, Kyra. How did the concert go?" She went over to hug her daughter, not noticing the disturbed expression Kyra wore.

"Mom...why is Dad's car in the driveway?" The teen paused, raising an eyebrow at her mother's pajamas and robe. "And why are you just waking up now?"

Finally those alarm bells rang loudly in her head. Almost dropping her coffee mug, Reba realized with horror that Brock would stumble downstairs any minute for breakfast. "Oh, uh...the shower wasn't working so he..."

"Hey Reba, do you want to go out for breakfast? Jake's staying at his friend's house for the day, so we should have a few hours before Kyra comes back..."

He trailed off when he saw Kyra standing in the kitchen. It didn't help that he also wore a robe.

"Guess again," Reba replied, defeat in her voice.

Their youngest daughter didn't say anything. She didn't even look shocked. Too angry to speak, she whirled around to go out the way she came. Reba and Brock cringed when the front door slammed.

After they both got dressed, Reba and Brock found Kyra pacing away her fury in the house she called home for three years. The parents kept quiet as they entered, standing by the door until Kyra felt ready to talk. Without even thinking about it, Brock put his arm around Reba and rubbed her shoulder, both afraid of their daughter's reaction.

The simple movement finally got Kyra's attention. Her eyes bugged at the strange sight.

While Brock jumped away, realizing he'd only added to the situation, Reba stepped towards Kyra. "I'm sorry we lied," she began.

"Lied about what?" Kyra snapped, resuming her pacing. "What the hell is going on here? The only reason I didn't run to Cheyenne was because I wouldn't know what to tell her. I mean, if you guys were officially together, someone would have told me before now." She paused to glare at them. "And you wouldn't be sneaking out to breakfast when the kids aren't around." The remark landed, causing a fresh wave of guilt on both her parents' faces. "So what is this? Another affair we weren't supposed to find out about until it ripped our family apart again?"

While Reba lowered her eyes in shame, Brock became defensive and went to stand next to her. "Now hold on there, Kyra. What I did in the past was wrong and I regret breaking our family apart. This, though, this is completely different. Your mother and I are both single."

"It's different, but that doesn't make it okay," Kyra retorted. The anger had started to mix with fear, betrayal and general hurt. Tears threatened but she wouldn't allow them to flow. "Maybe you two don't remember the last years of your marriage, but I do. There was fighting and yelling and Dad running off to play golf all weekend because he didn't want to be home. Then I was there when Dad and Barbra Jean had problems. Every single time things start to get a little bit normal around here, the parents mess it all up. I am tired of listening to you people fight. When whatever this is between you two goes bad, I won't stick around to hear it."

Unable to look at them, she ran up to her old room and slammed another door.

Emotionally drained, Reba and Brock fell back onto the couch. They sat there while they contemplated Kyra's brutal honesty. "We knew this would happen," Reba said, her head in her hands. "Someone was bound to find out. We should've stopped at once or twice, but we had to get greedy and careless." She wondered if she should go upstairs to console her daughter, but decided against it. Kyra wouldn't want to talk to her anyway.

"She's right, too," Brock replied, his elbows resting on his knees. "What are we doing? Don't take that the wrong way, because you know I love you. I always will and part of me feels like we have a marriage even though we're not married anymore." He paused while Reba blushed at his confession. She couldn't believe he'd said that, and she felt the exact same way. "What worries me is that we haven't been fighting. At all. It's not natural," he continued, half-joking. "Are we just living in a bubble that's going to burst?"

Reba chuckled. "Oh Brock, of course we are! We haven't been living together. Sure, we don't have as many challenges now that we're older, but it's only a matter of time before some of our issues resurface. We get along better now now but we also lead separate lives. It would be tough to combine them fully without resenting the other's interference." She raised an eyebrow at him. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask about your 'volunteer work.'"

Shrugging, Brock replied, "At first I wanted to impress you, but I actually enjoy it. Is it such a surprise that I like being needed?"

They both laughed. "So then," Reba said, a little sadness in her words. "I guess we're done."

"I wouldn't put it that way," Brock argued. "We did learn something from this."

"What's that?"

"We can be friends now. Friends who maybe...scratch an itch every once in a while?"

Reba returned his hopeful smile as she put an arm around his shoulders. "We'll see." She glanced back at the stairs and stood up from the couch. "I'll go explain all this to Kyra. Wish me luck."