The Weight of Small Things (17 page)
Read The Weight of Small Things Online
Authors: Sherri Wood Emmons
Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #General, #Psychological
Corrie leaned her head against the back of the couch and rubbed her eyes.
“You don’t have to decide anything right this minute,” Bryn said. “Mark won’t be home until Tuesday, right? Just give yourself a couple days to think about it. Don’t make a decision today. Promise me?”
Corrie nodded slowly. She felt incapable of deciding anything at all just now.
“When will Bob get home?” she asked.
Bryn glanced at the clock. “Soon,” she said. “Why don’t you splash some cold water on your face?”
Corrie rose. “No,” she said. “I’m going home. I don’t want him to see me like this. He’ll know for sure that something’s wrong.”
Bryn nodded and hugged Corrie.
“Call me when you get home, okay? You’re upset and probably not in the best shape to drive. So call me.”
Corrie promised to call and left.
Bryn sat back down on the couch, her hands on her belly.
“Well, baby,” she said softly. “I thought you and I were in a mess. But, man, our situation is a breeze compared to Corrie’s.”
Then she went to the kitchen to make spaghetti for Bob and the boys.
30
O
n Tuesday, Corrie took the day off from work. After early Mass, she drove home, dusted furniture, mopped the floors, and started dinner in the Crock-Pot. And she cried.
n Tuesday, Corrie took the day off from work. After early Mass, she drove home, dusted furniture, mopped the floors, and started dinner in the Crock-Pot. And she cried.
Mark would be home in the afternoon. One way or the other, she would have to tell him she was pregnant. She couldn’t put it off. She was already having morning sickness. He’d know something was wrong.
Mark knew her so well.
At least he thinks he does
.
.
She shook her head and swiped her hand across her eyes.
Please, God, give me the strength to do what’s right. Please help me
.
.
She had talked to Bryn every day, argued and cried and listened and argued some more. But in the end, she knew what she would do. She’d known from the start. She would tell Mark the truth. She had to.
She was in the kitchen, wiping down the counter for the third time, when she heard the garage door opening.
Please, God . . .
“Hey!” Mark paused in the doorway, grinning at her. “What are you doing home?”
“I took the day off.”
He pulled her into a hug. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and tried to smile. “How was your flight?”
“Long, late, and bumpy.”
“There’s wine in the fridge,” she said. “Do you want a glass?”
“Sure,” he said. “Let me just dump this stuff in the laundry.”
She poured a glass of wine while he emptied his suitcase.
“How’s the project coming?” she asked, handing him the wine.
He took a sip before answering.
“It’s good,” he said. “I think we’re going to come in ahead of schedule and maybe even under budget.”
“That’s great.”
They sat at the breakfast bar.
“Don’t you want a glass?” Mark asked, raising his glass in her direction.
She shook her head.
“Are you okay?” he asked again. “You look kind of . . . I don’t know, pale or something. Are you feeling all right?”
She started to nod, tried to smile again. Then she shook her head.
“I have something to tell you,” she said softly.
“Okay, shoot.”
She sat quietly for a long minute, tearing a paper napkin on the counter.
“Corrie?” Mark leaned toward her. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered.
“What?” He stared at her, open-mouthed. Then he jumped from the bar stool, swept her into his arms, and whirled her around the kitchen.
“Honey, that’s great! Oh my God, I can’t believe it. We’re going to have a baby!”
“Mark,” she said, “wait. There’s more.”
“When are you due? Have you seen the doctor yet? Oh my God, Dr. Ping is going to be so thrilled for us.”
He held her tightly to his chest. “I’m so glad, Corrie. God, I’m just so . . . happy!”
She leaned against his chest, felt tears stinging her eyes. “Have you told anyone else yet?”
He tilted her head to look her in the eyes.
“Just Bryn,” she said.
“Bryn . . . how cool is that! You guys are both going to have babies at the same time. Wow.” He kissed her forehead. “Just . . . wow. I love you!”
“Mark,” she whispered. “There’s something you have to know.”
He took a step back, still holding her hands.
“What?” he asked. “Is there something wrong with the baby?”
“No,” she said. “I mean, I assume there’s nothing wrong. I’m only a few weeks pregnant.”
“So, what’s wrong, honey?”
She released his hands and turned, so she wouldn’t have to see his face when she told him, wouldn’t see the hurt.
“When I was in Los Angeles, I slept with Daniel.”
The words hung in the air like acrid smoke.
“What?” His voice was soft, disbelieving.
“I slept with Daniel,” she repeated.
He said nothing. Finally, she turned to look at him. His cheeks were red, his eyes wide.
“It was a mistake,” she said. “Stupid and selfish and . . . awful. I don’t even know how it happened. It just did. I’m so sorry, Mark. I’m just so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen. And I hate that it did.”
“You slept with Daniel?”
She nodded, dropping her eyes to the floor.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated.
He sat down on the bar stool, leaned his head into his hands, and sat in silence. She touched his shoulder, and he pulled away.
Finally, after what felt like an hour, he raised his head and stared at her.
“So this baby is Daniel’s?”
“I don’t know,” Corrie said. Tears streamed unchecked down her face. “I don’t know if it’s his or if it’s yours.”
She could see he was shaking, could feel the anger in his voice.
“You don’t know if the baby is mine? Or if it’s Daniel’s?” He spat out the name.
She only shook her head, her eyes trained on the floor. She didn’t see him raise his arm, didn’t see the blow coming. He slapped her hard across the face and she stumbled backward against the breakfast bar.
She stared at him in disbelief, waiting for another blow. But he only turned away abruptly, grabbed his keys from the counter, and left, slamming the door behind him. After a minute, she heard the garage door open. She watched through the window as he drove away, tires screeching on the pavement.
She leaned her forehead against the glass pane and wept. Her life, the life she’d so carefully crafted, was over. Mark was gone.
31
“I
can’t believe he hit you!”
can’t believe he hit you!”
Bryn touched the bruise on Corrie’s cheekbone softly.
“I deserved it,” Corrie said.
“Don’t talk like a crazy person, Corrie. No one deserves to get hit!”
Corrie only shook her head.
They sat in Corrie’s kitchen. She had taken another day off work. She couldn’t go to the office with a bruise on her face. She couldn’t face the questions.
“I just wish I knew where he is,” she said. “I just want to know he’s okay.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Bryn said. “He’s probably at Sarah’s.”
“Oh God,” Corrie said. “I hope he doesn’t tell her. I can’t stand for Sarah to know I cheated on her brother.”
“Well, it’s going to come out,” Bryn said. “He’s going to have to talk to someone about it, right?”
Corrie sighed, swirling the cold coffee in her mug.
“Did you try texting him?” Bryn asked.
Corrie nodded.
“I’ve texted, I’ve called. He won’t answer. It just goes directly to voice mail.”
“He needs some time to cool off,” Bryn said, patting Corrie’s hand. “It’s a lot for him to take in. But he’ll come home and you guys can talk about it and . . . and figure out what to do.”
“What is there to figure out? I’m pregnant. I don’t know who the father is. Mark hates me, and he’s never going to forgive me.”
“You don’t know that. Give him time. He might come around.” Bryn tried hard to sound hopeful.
Corrie shook her head.
“You didn’t see him yesterday. He looked at me like he hated me.”
“He’s mad, honey. Of course he’s mad. And he’s hurt. But this is Mark. He’s a good guy, right? Give him some time and he’ll come around.”
Corrie didn’t reply.
“Okay.” Bryn rose, took Corrie’s coffee cup, and pulled her up from her chair. “We are
not
going to sit around here feeling sorry for ourselves. We are going to go out and buy something.”
not
going to sit around here feeling sorry for ourselves. We are going to go out and buy something.”
Corrie shook her head again.
“No arguments,” Bryn insisted. “Go upstairs and get dressed. We are going to the mall and we are going to buy something for your baby. And then I’m buying you lunch.”
She pulled Corrie up the stairs and to her bedroom.
“We’ll get salads at Maxi’s. We’ll drink milk. We’ll be disgustingly healthy and smug. We’ll be two pregnant ladies out on the town.”
Corrie pulled on her jeans and a sweater, applied makeup to her bruise, and allowed herself to be dragged to Bryn’s car. They drove to the mall, the radio blaring, the windows rolled down.
She followed Bryn into the mall, concentrating simply on putting one foot in front of the other. She felt like she was walking in thick, oozing mud, each step a concerted effort. All the while, Bryn chattered away.
“We’re going to babyGap,” she announced. “We’ll get something unbelievably cute and very expensive for the baby.”
She giggled. “Babies, I mean. God, Corrie, we are going to have babies!”
Corrie glanced at her friend. Bryn’s cheeks were pink, her eyes bright. She looked happier than Corrie had ever seen her.
“Come on.” Bryn nudged her with her elbow. “I know yesterday sucked. And I know today sucks. And tomorrow will probably suck, too. But, Corrie Ann, you are pregnant. And that’s kind of a miracle, right? So, just concentrate on that right now. You’re going to have a baby!”
They stood at the entrance of the store, staring at the vast array of tiny sleepers and dresses, overalls and booties. Corrie smiled, in spite of herself.
They wandered the aisles, picking up one adorable item after another.
“We can’t buy clothes,” Corrie said, laying down a lacy lavender dress with regret. “I mean, I’d love to have this, but what if I’m having a boy?”
Bryn laughed. “Okay, let’s look at sleepers then. And these, look at these!”
She held up a tiny pair of white booties, each embroidered with the three little kittens and their mittens.
“Bryn,” Corrie said, laying her hand on Bryn’s. “We probably shouldn’t buy anything yet. It’s bad luck.”
Bryn simply laughed. “Let’s look at our situation, shall we? I’m pregnant by a man who is a total loser. You don’t even know who your baby daddy is. I think we’ve had our share of bad luck, don’t you?”
She held the booties out for Corrie.
“Let’s both get them,” she said. “The babies will match.”
Corrie took the tiny socks and held them to her cheek. “They’re so soft.”
They bought the booties. They bought blankets and hooded towels. They bought onesies and sleepers. By the time they left the store, each carried a large bag. Bryn’s had a stuffed yellow giraffe sticking out the top.
At Maxi’s, they put the bags under the table, glad to be off their feet.
The waiter took their orders and brought their milk.
“Cheers,” Bryn said, touching her glass to Corrie’s. “Here’s to healthy babies.”
“What babies?”
They looked up to see Patrice standing by their table.
“Oh, um,” Bryn stammered. “Hi, Patrice. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, Bryn. What are you two doing here? Isn’t it a work day?” She looked pointedly at Corrie.
“I took the day off,” Corrie mumbled, willing her mother to go away.
“Oh!” Patrice sounded shocked. “Well, good for you! I’m proud of you.”
She sat down in the empty chair next to Corrie, kissed her cheek, and reached for a menu.
“What are you having?” she asked, obviously meaning to join them.
“Just salads,” Bryn said.
“Well, I think I’m going to get a grilled cheese,” Patrice said. “And a cocktail.”
She glanced at the milk glasses on the table, then looked from Corrie to Bryn.
“So . . . what babies were you talking about?”
“Mine,” Bryn said, grinning. “I’m preggers.”
“Oh my,” Patrice said. “Congratulations, Bryn! Are you and Paul going to finally make it legal?”
“Nope! I’ve finally left him for good.”
“Well, good for you, I guess.”
“Thanks,” Bryn said. She winked at Corrie while Patrice gave her order to the waiter.
“So, are you having twins?”
“What? No! I mean, I don’t think so. God, I hope not!”
“Well, you said babies,” Patrice pointed out. “Plural.”
“Oh,” Bryn stammered. “I just meant babies in general.”
Corrie stared at the table, reached for her napkin, then stopped and put her hands in her lap.
“So, you’re going to be a single mom,” Patrice said. “That’s a hard row to plow. Lord knows I never expected to have to raise three kids on my own, but I did it. Sometimes I don’t know how, but I did it.”
You drank your way through it,
Corrie thought, her mouth set in a tight line.
Corrie thought, her mouth set in a tight line.
“Well, it’s a lot easier now, I suppose,” Patrice continued. “So many single moms now, not like when I was raising Corrie.”
The waiter brought Patrice’s gin and tonic, and she drank half of it in one swallow.
“What are you doing today?” Corrie asked, watching her mother swig the drink.
“I just got my hair cut,” Patrice said. “Do you like it?”
Corrie nodded. It didn’t look any different from her usual style.
“Excuse me,” Bryn said, rising. “I’m going to the little girls’ room.”
Patrice watched her walk away, then turned to Corrie.
“So, kiddo,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“Are you? Because you look like hell.”
“Well, thanks.”
“I mean, you look like you don’t feel well. And is that a bruise?” She touched Corrie’s cheek.
“I slipped in the shower,” Corrie said.
Patrice gazed at her steadily. “Are you upset because Bryn is pregnant?”
“No.” Corrie shook her head. “I’m happy for her. Really,” she insisted, as her mother gazed at her. “I’m happy.”
“Your time will come,” Patrice said. “You’ll get your baby someday.”
Corrie nodded, not meeting her mother’s eyes.
The waiter brought their food and Patrice ordered a second drink. Corrie sighed.
“I was going to call you,” Patrice said. “I need your help.”
Bryn rejoined them.
“What’s up?” Corrie asked.
“It’s Caerl,” Patrice said. “He’s in a little trouble.”
Corrie sighed again and glanced at Bryn, who rolled her eyes.
“What’s he done now?” she asked.
“Well, it’s not his fault,” Patrice began. “He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Whatever, Mom.” Corrie took a drink of her milk. “Just tell me what happened.”
“He was at a bar with some friends, and someone started a fight. You know how boys are.” Patrice finished off her drink and smiled at the waiter, as he handed her another.
“Caerl didn’t start it, but he got dragged into it. He was just trying to help his friend, you know. Anyway, the police came and the whole lot of them got arrested.”
Corrie closed her eyes, her head beginning to throb.
“He’s been charged with assault, and he’s in lockup. And I need three thousand dollars to post bail for him. I’ll pay you back,” she said. “Once he goes to court, I’ll get the money back and I’ll pay you back every penny.”
“When are you going to stop bailing him out, Mom?” Corrie’s voice shook. “He’s never going to learn until he has to finally pay for the stuff he does.”
“He’s my son,” Patrice said, her voice flat. “If you had children, you’d understand.”
Bryn’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushed red.
Corrie sighed and pulled out her checkbook.
“Thanks, honey.” Patrice kissed her cheek. “I’ll pay you back. And Caerl has a lead on a new job. You just wait; he’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
They finished lunch in awkward silence. Driving home, Bryn reached over and took Corrie’s hand.
“When are you going to tell her?”
Corrie shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe never?”
Bryn laughed. “You don’t suppose she’ll notice when you start gaining weight?”
“She’s going to have a cow,” Corrie said. “Actually, she’s going to be so angry with me for taking away her cash cow.”
“How many times have you bailed Caerl out?”
“This is the fourth.”
“Has she ever paid you back?”
“No.”
Now Bryn shook her head. “I’m sorry, hon. My mother’s no picnic, but she’s a saint compared to yours.”
“Have you told your mom yet?” Corrie asked.
“I’m going up tomorrow.” Bryn set her shoulders as if preparing for battle. “Bob keeps telling me that once the baby comes, Mom will be fine. He says a baby makes everything okay. I hope to God he’s right.”
Other books
Bold by Peter H. Diamandis
American Dreams by John Jakes
Saint's Getaway by Leslie Charteris
Discovering Treasure by Crystal Mary Lindsey
Under the Influence by Joyce Maynard
Ascension by Hannah Youngwirth
Amazon Chief by Robin Roseau
The Duty of a Queen by Dara Tulen
Linc by Aliyah Burke
Dead Men Scare Me Stupid by John Swartzwelder