All language subtitles for Reba.S01E13.Brocks.Swan.Song.1080p.NF.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-FLUX_track4_[eng]

So are you kids excited
about your big weekend?

Oh, yeah. Two fun-filled days
with Dad and Barbra Jesus.

Aw, come on.

It's a chance to spend some quality time
between you and your father...

and between me
and a box of fine chardonnay.

Barbra Jean wants us
to call her Mommy B.J.

Don't.

Van, I am sorry, but we are not naming
our baby after Vinny Testaverde.

You know, I think I'd prefer
something simple,

like... like Laura.

Oh, Laura's a pretty name.

Oh, yeah. For a girl.

Do you like Pete? Pete is a cool name.

We're gonna find out the sex of our baby
in a couple hours.

We can talk cool names then.

Like Pete.

[door opens]

Oh, hey, Brock. Kids, go get your stuff.

Actually, slight change of plans.

- The kids can't stay overnight.
- Yes!

All right, what's the lame excuse
this time?

John D. passed away.

Oh, Brock, I'm so sorry.

Who's John D?

John D. Hart, Daddy's father.

Remember that guy
who let you puff his cigar?

Oh, yeah.

I liked him.

Brock, I can't believe this.
How did it happen?

He had a heart attack on the golf course.

Well, at least he died
doing something he loved.

Swingin' at a golf ball.

Actually, he was swinging at a swan.

[theme song playing]

♪ My roots are planted in the past ♪

♪ Though my life is changing fast ♪

♪ Who I am is who I want to be ♪

♪ A single mom who works too hard ♪

♪ Who loves her kids and never stops ♪

♪ With gentle hands
And the heart of a fighter ♪

♪ I'm a survivor ♪

Why did Grandpa hit a swan?

It honked at him.

Please tell me there's more.

Well, he was on the golf course,
about to putt,

when this swan starts yappin' at him.

Now, everybody knows you don't mess
with John D. when he's puttin'.

Apparently the bird
didn't get the message.

- When is the funeral?
- I don't know.

Who handles that sort of thing?

Kids, would you give your dad and me
a minute, please?

Mom, maybe we should
cancel the ultrasound.

Oh, no, don't.

A soul passes on so another can be born.

- Keep your appointment.
- Absolutely.

Maybe we should
name the baby after John D.

Well, now, that's real sweet, Van,
but, frankly,

John D. wasn't the type of guy
you'd name your kid after.

Maybe if you had a mule.

Oh, all right.

You kids, go on
to your doctor's appointment.

Brock, you were John D.'s only son.

You have a responsibility.

Why?

He left when I was 12,
he came drunk to my graduation,

and he only calls once a year
to see how you're doing.

Oh, that's so sweet.

But it's still your job
to plan the funeral.

Yeah, okay. Will you help me out?

Me? Don't you have a new little helper?

Oh, come on. B.J. never even met the man.

But you and John D. go way back.

Please?

Come on, Reba. You know I'm not good
with this emotional stuff.

That's always been your area.

Oh, all right. I'll help.

[sighs] Where's John D. now?

Oh, geez, Reba. I'm not a religious man.

We, at the Hudson Funeral Home,

know how painful
the loss of a loved one is.

So we offer a variety of plans

to best suit your needs.

Do you have the "get 'em in the ground
as cheaply as possible" plan?

That would be this one here.

Brock, you can't put your father
in a plain pine box.

It's not plain, it's got handles.

Mr. Hudson, what would you recommend?

If I could pick my own casket, and I have,

I'd go with our Excalibur model.

Five layers of solid steel.

Leather interior. Guaranteed against
water penetration and rust.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. How much?

$6,000.

$6,000?

Well, can't we just chuck a pillow
in the pine box?

Isn't there a mid-price model?

Sort of like a coffin version
of the Buick Century.

Well, um, this one just came... back.

Priced to move at 1,500.

Wrap it up.

Oh, and finally,

would you prefer a open or closed casket?

Closed.

And locked.

Well?

It's a girl! [screams]

Oh, baby, I'm so happy!

- It's a girl!
- Ah!

Yeah.

But remember, the nurse said
the ultrasound isn't conclusive.

There's only an 80% chance it's not a boy.

Oh, but we saw her on the monitor,

- and she did not have a you know what.
- [laughing]

Maybe he had a small you know what.

Like Blinsky, the left tackle.

Let's go up and talk names.
I know that I said Laura,

but after seeing her, I...

I think she's a Tiffany.

- Oh!
- [both laughing]

Great. First he's got a small one,

and now you want to give him
a girl's name?

- [knock at door]
- Come in.

[sniffles]

My heart is so heavy.

There, there.

Brock, I've ordered the flowers,

and I've reserved the small chapel
at the mortuary.

Now, I figured since it's just
the seven of us, we can drive ourselves.

Reba, uh, regarding the funeral...

- Hmm?
- ...B.J. has a few suggestions.

- Oh?
- Yes.

Brock told me what you were planning,
and it did seem a trifle...

insufficient.

Now, we all know the Lord frowns
on small services.

So I have asked all 80 members
of my church to be present,

and they've agreed.

And as we speak, a Baptist choir
is en route on a chartered bus.

You're busin' in Baptists?

Not just any Baptists,

Shreveport Baptists.

It's been said they sing
directly into the ear of God.

[pops lips]

I thought we agreed to keep this small.

But John D. is my future father-in-law.

You do know he's dead.

Anyway, after I read my poem,

I will give the signal for the release
of 100 white doves.

- Doves?
- Mmm.

The man beat the crap out of a swan,
for God's sake!

You, kitchen. Now.

[groans] Oh!

Poor little Jakey.

Come give a hug to Mommy B.J.

Come here.

Oh, yeah!

Oh, you must be so, so sad about Grandpa.

I don't really remember him.

- You'll get to see him again one day.
- How?

In heaven.

See, when you die, an angel comes down
and whisks you up to heaven.

And when you get there,

you get to meet all the wonderful
people who have ever died,

from Adam and Eve to Frank Sinatra.

I just wanna know
why you dragged me into this,

if you're gonna let her turn it into

B.J.'s Flying Circus.

Well, sometimes it's just easier
to let her have her way.

And that's the way
it always is with you, isn't it?

Making things easier.

Easier?

Those singing Baptists
are costing me a grand.

You know, there's a sayin' that a man

doesn't really become
a man until his father dies.

But you're just shooting that
full of holes, aren't ya?

Look, I don't really care how we do it.

I just want to get it done.

John D. wouldn't want any part
of this junk, and you know it.

He'd have been a lot better off

if they just left him out there
on that stupid golf course.

That's a fancy course, Reba.
They won't even let you wear shorts.

What ya looking at?

Oh, it's an old album
with photos of John D.

Oh, wow. He looks just like Dad.

How come he never came around?

Well, let's see.

He did take a swing at your dad
at the '85 Cotton Bowl,

but they went golfing the very next day.

He sure did like to swing at things.

Then another time they almost
came to blows over stacking charcoal.

Sounds like they had some issues.

Yeah, we had a gas grill.

But, you know, I think
the real problem was that

your daddy has never forgiven him
for running out on the family

when he was still a kid.

- That's so sad.
- Hmm.

No wonder Dad's dysfunctional.

- Hey.
- Hey.

I understand everything now, Dad.

What are you doing here?

You were right, Reba.

John D. would be better off
on a golf course.

So that's where he's going.
I've got his ashes out in the car.

What?

What you said to me yesterday
really hit home.

So instead of some bogus funeral

with doves and phony mourners,
I had him cremated.

And you and I are gonna
spread John D.'s ashes

on the 12th hole at River Lakes.

You're serious.

One of the most beautiful holes
in the county.

Brock, I am not about to go
with you and your cremated father

to a golf course
in the middle of the night.

I remember one time you went
to a golf course with me

in the middle of the night.

Yeah, and look where it got me.

Please, Reba.

I swear I will never, ever
ask you for anything again.

Brock, don't think for a second
that that puppy dog face

is gonna work on me anymore.

Do you want me to rake or sprinkle?

All right, now, try and spread him evenly.

Golfers have to hit shots
out of here tomorrow.

Don't you think you ought to say
a few words or somethin'?

Right, right. Absolutely.

Uh...

We are gathered here
to say good-bye to John D. Hart,

a hard-working man who...

worked hard. Start raking.

That isn't a proper eulogy for a father.

Well, he wasn't a proper father.

Help me out here. You're the talker.

All right.

John D. Hart was a...

was a, uh...

Ain't easy, is it?

Free spirit who lived life to the fullest.

And although he didn't
live a perfect life,

I believe, on the inside,
he had a good heart.

Except right there at the end, of course.

May he find peace in heaven.

Amen. Let's do it.

Hey, hey, hey. Lookie there.

A perfectly good Titleist.

That's a good omen.

[siren wails]

[officer] Freeze! Police!
Drop your weapon!

Van, are you disappointed
we're having a girl?

Well, maybe a little.

Cheyenne, when you told me
you were pregnant,

I saw a little boy.

Well, after I threw up.

And all I ever thought about
was all the stuff I was gonna teach him.

But that changed yesterday.

I mean, does a daughter care
about zone coverage?

What's zone coverage?

See?

Girls aren't into defensive strategy
or cool cars

or loud belching. [belches]

- Gross.
- See?

I'm gonna have zero in common
with a daughter.

What did you eat?

Mom! Mom!

Jake, what's wrong?

An angel took me to heaven,
and Frank Sinatra beat me up.

Come here, big guy.

I think you got the wrong idea
about heaven.

- You don't get beat up there.
- Really?

Oh, no. Bullies aren't allowed.

That's why they call it heaven.

So the angels aren't mean?

No, no, no. They're too busy
passin' out Game Boys.

Really?

And when they're not doing that,

they're making chocolate chip cookies
as big as your head.

- Cool.
- Yeah.

I'll tell you what.

Go back to bed, and I'll check on you
in a few minutes.

- Thanks, Van.
- Aw.

What?

That was great what you just did.

Well, it's easy. He's a boy.

Girls have nightmares too.

About what?

Mismatching their sweaters
with last year's shoes?

And other scary stuff. [scoffs]

And just like boys,

they need their daddies
to make things all better again too.

[sighs] You know,
now that I think about it,

Laura is a pretty name.

Actually, I'm starting to like
Cheyenne, Jr.

Yeah?

Well, I looked it up, and guess what?

You can't sprinkle dead people
on a golf course.

Well, if this isn't typical John D.

Even from the grave,
he's causing me problems.

You remember what he pulled
at our wedding?

"Does anyone here have any cause
why these two shouldn't be married?"

And he stands up and says,
"I do. That woman's too good for the bum."

Amazing how he knew even way back then.

What a psycho to do that to his own son.

- He did apologize.
- Yeah, five years later.

It was the day that
tropical storm, Jacklyn hit.

Yeah, I remember.

I had just given birth to Kyra,

and we were on our way home
from the hospital...

to a house with no roof.

John D. did help me fix it.

Help?

He did it all while you sat
on a lounge chair drinkin' Budweisers.

Well, that's because he wouldn't
let me touch his precious hammer.

He didn't want you to hurt your hands.

He was so proud that you were a dentist.

- He was?
- Yeah.

How come he never told me that?

Maybe he didn't know how.

Maybe he didn't know
how to tell you a lot of things.

Hey.

Did I ever tell you about
me and Bobby Adkins?

Mmm-mmm.

Bobby was this fifth grade bully

who used to kick my ass
at least twice a week.

Well, when John D. found out,

he decided it was time
for me to learn how to duke.

So every night,
we'd put on the gloves and slug it out.

Then one day, he sent me out
to settle the score.

- And you pulverized Bobby.
- No, he beat me silly.

When I got home,

John D. apologized
for sending me out too soon.

Then he went out and...

had a few words with Bobby's dad.

Bobby never bothered me again after that.

[chuckles] That's a true story.

My father's dead, Reba.

That's the first time you said father
instead of John D.

[sobs]

It's okay.

- It's okay.
- No.

No, it's not okay.

I really blew it, Reba. I really blew it.

Brock, your father had a really good life.

And I'm sure he knew you loved him.

I'm not just talking about him.

Brock, your father just died,
and you're upset.

Don't say things
you'll be sorry for tomorrow.

I will be sorry...

forever. [sobs]

Stop this. Brock, you made a choice.

While you were out running around
trying to find yourself,

I was the one that was at home
with our kids, trying to be strong.

And there was many a nights
I cried myself to sleep

over this whole mess.

But I'm through cryin'.

So you grieve for John D.

And if you need to, you grieve for us.

I already have.

Well, I just got off the phone
with the golf course, and I just--

Are you cryin'?

No.

Well, you're free to go.

Thank you.

But John D. Hart has to go with you.

That's a pretty big bag.

Well, there might be
some sand in there, ma'am,

but we wanted to make sure
we got all of him.

Careful. He's kind of heavy.

He ain't heavy.

He's my father.

Tell me you didn't just say that.

The 12th hole at River Lakes.

You know what, buddy?

This is where your grandfather
taught me how to hit a golf ball.

Why can't we come here in the daytime?

'Cause Daddy's been banned from the club.

[whispering] Hit the turf!

Ah, it's all right. It's just headlights.

Hey, Jake,

you know how much I love you, right?

Yes, Dad. You told me 50 times today.

Well, you might
have to hear it another 50.

All right. Give me the bag.

Is that Grandpa?

It's just some of him.

I dumped the rest of him
in the mud pit at the Kit Kat Club.

What did Grandpa teach you there?

[chuckles]

That's a story for another night.

[theme music playing]