The Weight of Small Things (15 page)

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Authors: Sherri Wood Emmons

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #General, #Psychological

BOOK: The Weight of Small Things

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“H
i, Aunt Corrie!”

Laurel ran into Corrie’s outstretched arms.

“Hi, pumpkin! How’s my pretty girl?”

Corrie lifted her niece and kissed her cheek.

“I’m mad,” the little girl said, grimacing. “Ian ruined my picture.”

“Did not!” Ian appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I made it better!”

“Okay, you two. That’s enough!” Sarah walked into the living room and took Laurel from Corrie, setting her on the sofa. “I don’t want to hear another word about the picture.”

She hugged Corrie lightly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” Corrie said, smiling at her sister-in-law. “I’m glad to be home.”

“Do you guys want to watch cartoons?” Sarah turned on the television.

Corrie’s eyebrows arched. Usually, Sarah didn’t let the kids watch television during the day.

“Nick Junior!” Laurel shouted. Ian climbed onto the couch beside his sister.

“Okay, just for a while.” Sarah flipped the remote until a cartoon filled the screen.

“Let’s have some tea,” she said, walking into the kitchen. “I’m beat!”

“You feeling all right?” Corrie asked, following her.

“Yeah, just tired.” Sarah poured water into the teakettle and set it on the stove. “Honestly, I love them to pieces, but they’re driving me crazy today.”

Corrie put her arm around Sarah’s shoulders and squeezed.

“You’re just tired,” she said. “If you want, I can watch the kids while you take a nap.”

“That’s okay.” Sarah smiled at her. “What I really need is some honest-to-God, grown-up conversation.”

They sat at the table with their cups.

“So, how was Los Angeles?” Sarah watched Corrie raise her cup, blow on the steam, then set it back down.

“Pretty much awful,” Corrie said. “You were right. I shouldn’t have gone.”

“What happened?”

Corrie stirred her tea, not meeting Sarah’s eyes.

“Nothing, really. Daniel is still just Daniel. He still thinks he’s going to save the world. And he still knows how to push my buttons.”

Sarah said nothing for a minute, then she sighed. “Are you and Mark okay?”

“Yes!” Corrie smiled at her then. “I told him he was right, too. I shouldn’t have gone. And I’m sorry I upset him. But I think he’s forgiven me.”

“Good.” Sarah sipped her tea. “I knew he couldn’t stay mad at you for long. He said Maya called while you were there. Did you get to see her?”

Corrie nodded. “She’s doing well. I think she has a boyfriend.”

“Good for her!” Sarah laughed. “When is she coming home?”

“I don’t think Maya will ever move back to Indiana,” Corrie said firmly. “She seems pretty happy to be far away from the family.”

“She might change her mind someday.”

Corrie shook her head. “No, I think she really feels like she’s escaped. I can’t imagine her coming back to Middlebrook.”

“Middlebrook’s not such a bad place,” Sarah said, smiling at her cheerful yellow kitchen.

“I don’t think Maya has a lot of happy memories here.”

“Well, I’m glad you came back.”

Corrie laughed. “Did you think I was going to stay in California?”

“Not really,” Sarah said. “I just . . . worried a little.”

“I’m sorry I worried you. And I’m really sorry I worried Mark.”

“So, how was it, seeing Daniel again?”

Corrie shrugged, feeling her cheeks redden. She wasn’t used to keeping things from Sarah.

“Daniel is just Daniel. And it was . . . weird.”

“Did you get a good story?”

Corrie nodded. “I think so. It really is an impressive place. I think it’s a good story.”

“Mama!” Laurel’s voice cried from the living room. “Ian pinched me!”

Sarah sighed and heaved herself from the chair. “Some days I wonder why the hell I wanted another one,” she said, patting her pregnant stomach as she waddled into the living room.

Corrie smiled, following her into the room, where Laurel was scowling furiously at her brother.

She sat down on the couch between the children, putting an arm around each.

“You go lie down for a little while,” she said, winking at Sarah. “I’ll stay with them and watch
SpongeBob
.”

“You’re an angel.” Sarah smiled at the three of them. “Just fifteen minutes. Is that all right?”

“Go nap. We’re good here.”

Forty-five minutes later, Sarah reappeared. “I can’t believe I slept so long!”

“You needed it,” Corrie said, smiling.

“But I’d better go now,” she said, kissing her nephew and niece and hugging Sarah. “I told Bryn I’d stop by on my way home.”

She paused in the doorway to watch Sarah pull her small daughter onto her lap, her arm around Ian. She wondered how anyone could ever get tired of those beautiful children.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Corrie stared at Bryn, aghast. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Bryn sighed.

“I know,” she said. “It sounds crazy. But he seemed really sincere. And if there’s even a chance he can change, don’t I owe it to the baby to try and make it work?”

They sat in Bob’s living room, surrounded by trucks and Legos. Bob had taken the boys to the park, and Bryn had invited Corrie for coffee.

“But you were so adamant before,” Corrie said. “You said you were through with Paul.”

“I know. And I meant it. And maybe I still mean it. I just don’t know anymore.”

“God, Bryn, this is Paul we’re talking about. He’s had over ten years to get his act together, and he never does. Why would you think he’s any different now?”

“Because of the baby,” Bryn said. “He really wants to make it work, to be a family.”

“And you believe him?”

“I don’t know.” Bryn sighed again and sipped her coffee. “Part of me says, ‘There’s no way he can change.’ But part of me really wants to believe he can.”

Corrie said nothing for a minute, just watching her friend. Finally, she leaned forward to stare into Bryn’s face.

“I know you’re scared,” she said softly. “I can’t even imagine how scary it is to be pregnant and on your own. But you can do this, Bryn. If anyone can do it, it’s you. You’re strong enough to be a single mom. You don’t need Paul.”

“It’s not just that,” Bryn said. “It’s the baby. What if Paul
can
be a good dad? Doesn’t the baby deserve a dad?”

“Well, if Paul can get himself together, then maybe he can be a father to this baby. But, Bryn, that doesn’t mean you have to go back to him. I mean, he can see the baby and help with support, but you can still live on your own.”

“I know. And maybe that’s what I’ll do. I just don’t know.”

“Well, promise me this,” Corrie said. “Promise me that you’ll wait a while before you do anything. I mean, if he’s serious then let him prove it. Let him court you.”

Bryn laughed. “Court me? God, Corrie, are we living in the Middle Ages?”

“I’m serious,” Corrie said, grinning. “He never had to court you before. You just jumped into bed with him. If he wants you back, make him work for it.”

Bryn smiled. “I kind of like that idea.”

“Good! Let him court you. Make him take you on real dates, buy you flowers, all the stuff he should have done in the beginning.”

“That sounds nice.” Bryn sighed yet again. “But where am I going to live while Paul is wooing me?”

“Right here.” Bob stood in the doorway, holding two bags of groceries. The boys ran through the living room, headed for the kitchen.

“Hey there!” Corrie smiled at him. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m good,” he said. “And I’m serious. Bryn, you stay here as long as you want.”

“I can’t just live here forever.” Bryn rose and took a grocery bag from him.

“No, probably not,” Bob agreed. “But you can live here until you decide what you want to do. And I think making Paul woo you is a very good idea.” He winked at Corrie. “Make the bastard work for it.”

“What’s a bastard?” Micah asked from the kitchen.

“Busted!” Bryn hissed.

“Never mind,” Bob said, walking into the kitchen. “It’s a word I shouldn’t have used. Now help me put these things away.”

Bryn returned to the living room with the coffeepot. “Want a refill?”

“No,” Corrie said, rising. “I’d better get home and start dinner.”

“Okay,” Bryn said, hugging her. “Thanks for coming. Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime,” Corrie said. “See you later, Bob.”

She drove home, frowning at the traffic. Why would Bryn even think of going back? Why couldn’t she see Paul for the self-absorbed jerk he was?

Probably for the same reason I slept with Daniel.

She shook her head. Weren’t they both smart, strong, educated women? How could they fall for such jerks?

She pulled into her driveway and smiled. Mums bloomed along the front porch, small explosions of red, yellow, and orange.

I love this house,
she thought.
I love my life
.

“Thank you, God,” she said. “Thank you for . . . well, for everything.”

In the kitchen she turned the music up loud and sang slightly off-key as she made dinner. Then she showered and changed into a pretty green chemise, set the table, poured the wine, and waited for Mark to come home.

“W
hat do you mean, you’ll date me?” Paul’s voice rose slightly on the phone.

Bryn smiled. “I mean just what I said. You want me back? Show me you mean it. Show me you can be the man I need you to be.”

“Come on, baby. You know I’m the man you need.”

“I’m not talking about sex, Paul.” Bryn’s voice was flat. “I mean, I need to see that you can be a grown-up. I need to see that you can be responsible and thoughtful and . . . I need to see if you can be like a real dad.”

“I told you, I talked to the university. And we can look at another apartment, if you want.”

“I know what you told me,” Bryn said. “But I need you to show me.”

Bryn smiled, hearing him sigh heavily.

“Okay,” he said, “so, what do you want to do?”

“I want you to ask me on a date, a real date. One where you plan something special, not just sitting at home getting stoned and watching TV.”

“So, like dinner and a movie?”

“That’s a start.”

“Okay, so do you want to go to dinner and a movie tonight?”

She smiled again. “I can’t tonight. Bob and I are taking the boys to see
Kung Fu Panda
.”

“Oh, you and Bob are going out. So, are you dating him, too?” Paul’s voice was sharp.

“No, Paul. I’m not dating Bob. He’s my friend and he’s been very good to me the last few weeks, and we are taking his kids to see a movie. It’s not a date.”

“Does Bob know that?”

Bryn laughed. “Seriously? Are you seriously asking me that? God, Paul, this is Bob we’re talking about. He’s married to Wendy, and I’m preggers with your kid. Does that sound terribly romantic to you?” She giggled again.

“Fine,” Paul said. “Then what about tomorrow? Are you free for dinner and a movie tomorrow?”

“Actually, I am.”

“Okay, then we’ll go tomorrow. What time should I pick you up?”

“Well, that pretty much depends on where we’re going, doesn’t it? Why don’t you make the plans and call me back.”

There was a long silence on the phone. Bryn smiled and stretched, yawning, on the couch.

“Fine,” he said again. “I’ll call you back.”

“You look pretty pleased with yourself.” Bob walked into the room, carrying a book and his glasses.

“It’s kind of nice,” Bryn agreed.

“Just be careful,” he said. “That guy has hurt you way too much in the past. I don’t want to see him do it again.”

Bryn just smiled. “What are you reading?”

Bob held the book toward her, so she could see the title:
Helping Your Kids Through Your Divorce
. “My attorney recommended it.”

“So, have you filed papers?”

“Not yet.” Bob sat down in the lounge chair and put on his glasses. “But he’s got everything he needs from me. So, he should have them drawn up in the next week.”

“Has Wendy got a lawyer?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her since the whole thing with the picture.”

“Do you think she’ll fight you for custody?”

He smiled sadly. “If she does, she’ll lose. I gave the picture to my lawyer, and he said it’s pretty much a slam dunk for me.”

“Good! Because those boys need you. They need to be here.”

“I think so, too.”

“Do you think it will hurt your chances if I’m staying here?”

Bob shook his head. “I talked to the lawyer about it. It’s not against the law to have a houseguest . . . even a pregnant one.” He grinned at her.

“Okay,” she said. “But if Wendy starts to make a big deal about it, I’ll go stay with Corrie.”

“Don’t worry about it, Bryn. I already told you, you can stay as long as you want. The boys like having you here, and so do I.”

B
ryn paced the living room, checking her appearance every few minutes in the hall mirror.

“Calm down,” Bob said. “You’d think this was a blind date.”

“It feels like one,” Bryn said. “God, I don’t even know why I agreed to this.”

She jumped when the doorbell rang.

“Six o’clock, on the nose,” Bob said.

“I can’t believe he’s on time,” Bryn said. “Paul is always late.”

She opened the front door and found Paul holding another huge bouquet of daisies.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, taking the flowers from him. “Give me just a second to put them in water.”

He followed her into the living room and smiled at Bob.

“Hey, how you doing?”

“I’m good,” Bob said. “Here, Bryn, I’ll take the flowers.”

Bryn handed the bouquet to him and picked up her sweater.

“I’ll see you later,” she said.

“Okay, you kids have fun.” Bob smiled at her.

“Where are you going?” Cody appeared from the hallway carrying a comic book.

“Bryn is going out for dinner with her friend Paul,” Bob said.

Cody stared at Paul suspiciously. “Why?” he asked.

“Because she’s hungry,” Bob said.

“Why doesn’t she just eat with us?” Cody looked from his father to Bryn.

“I thought you might want some time just with your dad,” Bryn said.

Cody didn’t respond. He took Bob’s hand and simply stared at Paul.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you later,” Bryn said.

Paul held the door for her as Bryn got into the car.

“What’s with the kid?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“He acted like you were his mom or something.”

Bryn smiled. “He’s five, and he really misses his mom. That’s all.”

They drove to Bryn’s favorite Italian restaurant. She felt her heart lift. This might actually go well, after all.

They ordered and the waiter brought their drinks—sparkling juice for Bryn, a glass of red wine for Paul.

“So, how are you feeling?” Paul asked.

“Okay,” Bryn replied. “I’m sick a lot, but I’m feeling good right now.”

“So, what does the doctor say about it?”

“That it’s a normal part of pregnancy.”

“But can’t you do anything about it? Isn’t there some kind of pill you can take?”

She shook her head. “It’s okay, it’s just a pain in the ass.”

“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” he asked.

She laughed. “Not until at least sixteen weeks, the doctor said.”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” Bryn said, smiling. “Either one would be okay, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Have you thought of any names?”

She laughed again. “Nope! I’m still getting used to the idea of the baby. I haven’t even thought about names.”

“Well, if it’s a boy, maybe we could call him Will. That was my dad’s name.”

“I didn’t know that was your dad’s name.” Bryn leaned forward to stare at Paul. “You’ve never talked about him at all.”

“Well, he died when I was a kid, so there’s not a lot to talk about.”

“Will . . . I guess it’s a good name. Not William, just Will.”

The waiter brought their salads. Paul drained his glass and asked for another. Bryn raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Talking about his family always made Paul uncomfortable.

“So, if it’s a girl, are you going to want to call her Helen?” Bryn asked.

Helen was Paul’s mother.

“God, no!” He spat out the words. “I mean . . . no.” His voice softened. “I’ve never really liked that name.”

“Okay, then. Maybe Will. Definitely not Helen. Any other ideas?”

“No,” he said. “That’s all. I just kind of like Will.”

The waiter brought his second glass of wine and they set upon their salads.

“So,” Paul said after a brief silence, “do you think Bob’s wife is going to come home this time?”

“No,” Bryn said. “I think this time he wouldn’t take her back even if she wanted to come home.”

“Seriously?” Paul’s eyebrows raised. “So old Bob has finally grown a pair. Good for him.”

“It is good for him,” Bryn agreed. “Wendy is a selfish, selfish bitch. Bob and the boys are better off without her.”

She told Paul about the picture they’d seen of Cody and the dog and the drugs.

“Yeesh,” he said when she’d finished the story. “She always was kind of . . . off. I mean, she’s a looker, I’ll give her that.”

He stared into space for a long minute. “I always loved that wild hair.”

The waiter brought their entrees, and Paul ordered another glass of wine.

“Well, it made me think about some things,” Bryn said when the waiter was gone. “If we do decide to try again, if I do move back in with you, you can’t be smoking pot all the time. And you can’t smoke at all in the apartment. It’s not good for the baby.”

“I know,” he agreed. “That’s why I was thinking we should look for a different place, maybe one with a balcony. So I could just go outside to smoke.”

“It would be better for everyone if you just quit,” Bryn said quietly.

“One thing at a time, babe. One thing at a time.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes. Then he signaled the waiter and asked for a fourth glass of wine.

Bryn sighed to herself and hunkered down in her chair, waiting for the inevitable.

By his seventh glass of merlot, Paul’s voice had grown loud and quarrelsome.

“I bet old Bob wants you to stay right where you are, right? I bet he wants you to stay with him for good and take care of his kids . . . and take care of him.”

He leered at Bryn. “I see how he looks at you, babe. I see him look.”

Bryn sat quietly, cursing herself for agreeing to the date. Cursing Paul for his drinking. Cursing fate that this man was the father of her child.

“Well.” Paul rose and steadied himself with his chair. “Let’s hit the road.”

Silently, she took the keys from him, poured him into the passenger seat of the car, and drove back to his apartment. Then she guided him up the stairs, into the apartment, and onto the bed.

He grinned up at her, his eyes glassy.

“How about a hit?” he asked. “I’ve got some killer weed. Let me get it. It’s right here.”

He began digging through the drawer of the bedside stand for his stash.

Bryn walked from the room and out of the building, walked two blocks to the coffee shop, ordered a chai tea latte, and called Bob.

“Hey.” His voice was like a balm on her nerves. “What’s up?”

“Are the boys still up?” she asked, blinking back tears.

“Yeah, we’re just playing with the Wii.”

“I’m at the coffee shop on Third and Kirby. Can you come get me?”

“Sure,” he said. “Hang tight. We’re on our way.”

After he put the boys to bed, Bob sat on the couch next to Bryn, his arm across her shoulders.

“It was bad?”

She nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“It started out so well,” she said. “We were talking about the baby and names and stuff. And then he started drinking.” Her voice trailed away.

“I’m sorry, Bryn. I know you were hoping he could change.”

“The sad thing is, I think he’s trying. I think he’s really trying to change. He brought the flowers, he put some thought into the restaurant, he talked about getting a new place. But . . . but then he started with the wine. And then of course he wanted to get stoned. He’s not even close to father material.”

She sighed heavily. “I don’t know why I thought he could be.”

“Hope springs eternal.” Bob smiled at the cliché. “All those times you guys asked me why I took Wendy back after she cheated, it’s the same thing. I always thought, ‘Maybe this time it will be different. ’ But it never was.”

Bryn nodded.

“At least now you know,” Bob said. “At least now we both know.”

“Bob?”

She looked up at him and smiled.

“What?” he asked.

“If I didn’t like you so much I think I’d fall in love with you.”

He laughed and kissed her forehead.

“Ditto,” he said softly.