The Weekend

Chapter Thirteen

Reba placed her suitcase on her navy blue comforter and slid the zipper across its track. She had an emptiness inside of her that she could not shake and she didn't like it one bit. For once in her life she had no control over the situation and it scared her. Her future was in the hands of someone else, but what if that someone changed their mind?

She gently shook her head and flipped the top of her suitcase open. She tossed her dirty clothes into the hamper next to her closet and grabbed her bag of toiletries, walking into the adjoining bathroom and setting it on the counter top. She hated unpacking, but she figured it best to get it over with right away. Otherwise, she knew it would sit on the chair in the corner until she forced herself to do it.

It was a funny thing. She had been alone in this room for the last six years, but it suddenly felt so much emptier than it did before. She walked out of the bathroom and ran her hand along the oak nightstand that sat next to her bed. She could almost see all of Brock's belongings that had once littered its surface. She ran her hand along the navy blue comforter that had once covered not only her body, but his as well. They had made so much love in this bed, it was hard to believe that everything had gone so wrong.

Reba stopped in front of her suitcase and something immediately caught her attention. She moved a pair of her blue jeans out of the way and revealed to her the shirt that rested underneath them. It wasn't hers that she was sure of.

She lifted it from the bottom of her bag and held it in front of her, a smile immediately taking over her lips. It was Brock's. It was the shirt he had worn the first day of their trip, the one she had slept in the last few nights.

She lifted it to her nose and inhaled deeply. It still smelled of his cologne and even now, she could feel her knees weakening. It wasn't in the bag this morning when she had finished packing, which only meant that he had snuck it in at some point before they left. She felt a warmth inside of her take over the cavity in her chest and she closed her eyes as she held the shirt next to her heart. He was trying to make this easier for her and she was thankful for that.

Reba quickly peeled her top off and replaced it with Brock's tee shirt. She unzipped her jeans and pushed them from her legs before stepping into a pair of pajama bottoms. She grabbed her empty suitcase and placed it in her closet. She picked up the robe that sat atop her bed and wrapped it around her small frame. She needed a glass of wine and a good book to distract her from the thoughts she knew would soon come. Their trip was officially over and there was no use in dwelling on that very fact. The kids would be home soon and she needed to put on a brave face.

As soon as Reba sat down on the couch with a glass of wine, Cheyenne, Van, Jake, and Kyra burst through the front door right on cue. She groaned and rolled her eyes, if the wine wouldn't take her mind off of it, at least their bickering would.

Kyra and Van argued about something as Van set their luggage next to the stairs, Cheyenne was whining about god knows what, and Jake bolted up the stairs before Reba even had a chance to say hi. A typical teenage boy, but she smiled nonetheless.

Reba cleared her throat and the kids stopped their bickering long enough to notice her presence.

"Mom! We missed you!" Cheyenne exclaimed as she immediately walked to the redhead and pulled her into a hug.

"Yeah, Mrs. H, you should've been there. They had Seadoos and everything. It. Was. Awesome." Van's eyes lit up as he spoke and Reba giggled as she pulled away from Cheyenne.

"Yeah, you should've seen Barbara Jean water ski, it was hilarious. You would've loved it."

"Dang it, it's always been my dream to see her being tossed around behind a boat." Reba nudged her daughter with her elbow and smirked. Cheyenne only rolled her eyes, knowing full well her mother loved Barbara Jean with every bit of her heart. "Where's Elizabeth?"

"She's in the car, we gotta get going. She's tired, Van's getting' cranky, and this baby has a craving for some pickles." She said as she rubbed her belly and smiled. Reba nodded and patted her arm, trying desperately to hide her frown. She hadn't seen them in what felt like forever.

"Alright, sweetheart, see you soon." She kissed Cheyenne's cheek and turned to Van, who was shaking his head after drifting off for split second. She leaned in so only Cheyenne could hear the words she was about to speak. "And maybe you should drive home."

"Don't worry, Ma." She winked and walked towards the door, pushing Van through its frame. "I'll stop by tomorrow so you can tell me all about your unpleasant weekend with dad."

"Bye, Mrs. H!" Van yelled out of sight.

Reba's chest went tight at the notion of telling Cheyenne about her weekend with Brock. She had never been a good liar, so she would certainly have to prepare beforehand. She sat back down on the couch in a huff and Kyra walked over and sat next to her.

"Hey, sweetie." She put an arm around the younger redhead's shoulders and side hugged her. "Do I even bother asking you how your weekend was?"

"My room was right next to Van and Cheyenne's and let me just say, the walls weren't as sound proof as they thought they were." Kyra made a disgusted face and Reba shuddered at the thought.

"Oh, you poor thing." She rubbed her shoulder gently and had to sustain the giggle she so desperately wanted to let out.

"How was your weekened?"

Craaaaaaaap. She hadn't prepared for that question yet. Be cool, she chided herself in her head, be cool.

"I – uh, I was trapped in a hotel with your father for four days, how do you think it was?" She said sarcastically, hoping her voice didn't give her true emotions away.

Kyra pulled her head back stunned and looked her mother in the eyes. "You guys had to share the same room? Ha!" She snorted. She couldn't imagine her parents sharing a room for four days. They could barely be together in a room for an hour without the zingers flying left and right.

"Yep. It's about as pleasant as it sounds." A flash of skin swept through her mind and for a split second she could feel his hands against her body. Reba choked on the air she inhaled and began to cough. What the heck was that?

Kyra pulled away and began to rub her mother's back. "Mom, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, honey, I just swallowed the wrong way is all. Is it hot in here?" She said once she caught her breathe, untying her rob and slipping it off of her shoulders.

Kyra just narrowed her eyes at her mother and shook her head. Menopause, man. Not a pretty sight, she thought to herself.

"Wait, isn't that dad's shirt?"

Reba stopped her movement and froze completely. Oh, dear god, what was she supposed to say? Yeah, your father left it in my suitcase as a reminder of the weekend we spent making love together despite his WIFE.

"I don't think so." She mumbled to herself as she weighed her options.

"Huh?" Kyra asked, completely confused. Reba's eyes went wide, had she said that aloud?

"I said, no, it's not his shirt. I've always had this." She looked downwards at the item of clothing and tried to talk as casually as possible, but her voice went an octave higher than she was used to. Get a hold of yourself, you mo-ron!

"Really? I could've swore he wore that –"

"Kyra. Honey, I can assure you this is my shirt." She chuckled nervously to herself before standing from the couch. "Now if you'll excuse me, I am exhausted."

"Okay, if you say so..." She looked at her mother suspiciously as she back away towards the stairs. What had gotten into the woman?

Reba smiled sheepishly before quickly jogging up the stairs and to her bedroom. Once in the safety of her room, she leaned against the door and exhaled, pulling her shirt out from her chest. That was way too close.