The Weekend

Chapter Fourteen

Brock sat on his couch with a beer in his hand and the game on the television. He tried to focus on the scene playing out in front of him, but all he could think about was Reba, what she was doing now and what she was thinking about. He tried so desperately to think about literally anything else, but somehow everything was connected to her. God, it was taking all of his self-control not to pick up the phone and call her right now. Better yet, walk over there and press her up against the wall and show her just how much he loves her.

Because lord, did he ever love that woman. And if he was a smart man, he never would've forgotten that six years ago when he was trapped in the operating room with his goofball of a wife.

He took a sip of his beer and ran his hand through his hair. What was he to do now?

"Daddy!" Henry shouted as he ran through the front door of their home and straight into Brock's lap.

"Careful there, buddy, we gotta protect that area." He said breathlessly as he recovered from a knee to the groin.

"Van taught me to swim!" Henry said into Brock's neck and he felt a pain in his heart at the idea of missing that moment.

"I wish I could've seen that, buddy."

"Me, too."

"Hey!" Barbara Jean said as she walked through the front door with her luggage in hand, setting it down and closing the door behind her. Brock immediately felt the guilt creep up inside of him, if only she knew.

"Why don't you take your bag upstairs and get ready for bed, me and your mom have some catching up to do."

Henry nodded and quickly climbed the stairs.

"Hey, how was your weekend?" He stood and set his beer down on the coffee table. He didn't know what to do with himself at that very moment, it all felt completely awkward.

"It was good, we had fun. My entire backside is bruised from water skiing, though." She said with a flinch as she rubbed her behind.

Brock chuckled and looked to his feet as he rocked back and forth on his heels. She shook her head and rid her mind of the flashbacks she was having from the water skiing, she was sure she'd be scarred for life. She finally smiled and walked towards Brock, pecking him on the cheek.

It took everything inside of him not to push her away.

"What about you? How was your weekend?" Barbara Jean turned to the table next to the stairs and placed her keys in the dish that sat atop it, trying desperately to contain the smirk that was itching to spread across her lips.

"It was alright, I guess. Nothing special." He pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. For once in his life, the lies weren't coming easily.

"I find that hard to believe." She mumbled underneath her breath and turned towards him.

"What was that?"

"I said, that's too bad. I bet it was nice having your friendship back for a little while, though?"

Before Brock could stop himself, a smile spread across his lips as he thought about all the wonderful moments he and Reba had shared over the weekend. It was the best time of his life. He looked up and met Barbara Jean's eyes, quickly remembering where he was and who was watching him closely. He quickly coughed and stopped smiling. "Yeah, it was kind of like old times."

"I bet." Silence filled the air between them and it felt as if the awkwardness could be cut into two with a butter knife, or at least that's what it felt like to Brock. Barbara Jean just stood there with a goofy grin on her face.

"Before I forget, I need you to sign Henry's permission slip." She reached to the ground and pulled out an envelope from Henry's backpack.

"Barbara Jean, you're his mom. Why don't you just sign it?" He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. She usually just signed his permission slips herself.

"I know that, silly, but they want both parents to sign this time. It's an overnight trip." She smacked the papers down on the table and handed Brock a pen.

"Oh, okay. Where to?" He squinted his eyes, trying desperately to read the writing in front of him with no such luck. His glasses were in the bottom of his suitcase and there was no point in digging them out.

"Some science camp. Sign here and here." She pointed and he obeyed. Once he had signed on the last line, Barbara Jean quickly took the papers out from under his hand and slid them back into the envelope.

"Sounds like a good time."

"Yeah, he's pretty excited."

"I bet."

Silence, once again.

"I'm gonna go tuck Henry in and then get ready for bed, I'm pooped. I'll see yah up there?"

"I shouldn't be too much longer."

She kissed his cheek before climbing the stairs. Her demeanor had changed in the blink of an eye, she almost seemed nervous? He shook his head. What did he know, anyway? Usually he was wrong about that kind of thing.

Barbara Jean quietly closed the door behind her after entering their bedroom and held the large envelope to her chest. She breathed in deeply and exhaled, making her way towards her bedside table. She carefully slipped the envelope into the drawer and sat on the edge of the bed.

Soon, everything would be right with the world.

Reba had tried so hard to fall asleep, however her run in with Kyra earlier that evening had her on edge and sleep was not coming easily. God, how she wished Brock was there to hold her and rub her back. She always did sleep like a baby with his arms wrapped around her.

Her bare feet padded against the cold tile of the kitchen as she made a beeline to the kettle. The one thing she could always count on for a good night's sleep was chamomile tea. She flicked the kettle on with a click and rested her palms against the counter top as she leaned over its surface.

Kyra would put two and two together eventually, if she hadn't already. That girl was too smart for her own good and Reba had to figure out how she was going to handle that. The last thing their family needed was another affair to throw them up into chaos once again.

Or who knows, maybe they could make it a tradition every six years! She rolled her eyes at herself, she felt completely and utterly idiotic. She shouldn't even be in this situation in the first place.

Suddenly, a soft knock on the kitchen door jolted her from her thoughts. Who could it be at this hour? Oh, dear god. It was Barbara Jean. She found out and now she was here to murder her. Reba quickly grabbed a spatula from its holder and slowly made her way to the door, spatula in the air and ready to smack down at any second.

She gently pushed the light fabric aside to see who was standing behind the glass and she felt her whole body loosen when she realized who was disturbing her at this time of night.

"Brock, what in the heck are you doin' here? I thought you were Barbara Jean, you mo-ron." She opened the door and let him into her kitchen, setting the weapon on the counter.

"I'm sorry, I just… needed to see you." He rushed up to her and wrapped an arm around her waist and dug his other hand into her curly, red locks. He held her head in the crook of his neck and her body as close to his as humanly possible. Reba just stood there, taken aback, before wrapping her arms around his middle.

They just stood in the dim light of the kitchen and held onto each other. They had been apart only for a few hours, yet he knew what it felt like to live without her. He'd done it before and that thought, that memory pumped fear into his core.

Reba slid her hand up the length of his chest and pushed him back a step, looking deeply into his eyes with a smile playing on her lips.

"Thanks for the shirt."

He looked between them and grinned, placing his hand on her hips and holding her in place in front of him. She was a vision even in his old tee shirt and a pair of raggedy plaid pajama bottoms.

"It looks better on you anyway." He looked into her bright blue eyes for a moment before invading her space once again and grazing her forehead with his lips.

He barely even touched her, yet she felt a fire ignite inside of her belly. She placed both of her palms against his chest and closed her eyes as his lips gently brushed against her cheek. Her breathing had become laboured and she nearly stopped breathing when his lips touched the corner of her mouth.

"I can't sleep." She whispered and he pulled back, but his nose remained next to hers and he listened to her ragged breathing. He moved his lips to hers and gently captured them in a sweet kiss before pulling away. He smiled as he watched her, waiting for her eyes to flutter open once her head stopped spinning. A feeling he knew all too well.

"Let me stay with you for a little while, until you fall asleep."

The idea of falling asleep in Brock's arms sent a chill down her spine. It was dangerous, that she knew, but she wanted nothing more than to feel his warmth next to her.

"Please." He added wanting to spend as much time with the woman in front of him as possible.

Reba only smiled and took his hand, leading him through the kitchen and to the stairs, all thoughts of tea forgotten. She had the only thing she needed right by her side, if only for a moment.