“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.”
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.
“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.”
32
Corrie slept fitfully that night, waking at every small noise, but Mark did not come home.
She woke early, feeling groggy and disoriented. She had to go back to work today. The winter issue was in production.
She trudged down to the kitchen and stopped short in the doorway. Mark sat at the breakfast bar, a cup of coffee in his hand. He didn’t look at her.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Where have you been?”
“I stayed with my folks,” he said, staring at the coffee cup.
“Do they know?”
He nodded.
“Oh God,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged.
She poured a cup of coffee and sat beside him at the counter.
“Do you hate me?” she asked.
“I don’t know how I feel right now,” he said.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated.
“I know.”
He stood and put his cup in the sink.
“I’m going to stay with Mom and Dad for now, until I can find an apartment. You can stay here. It’s really always been your house, anyway.”
She stared at him in silence for a minute.
“You’re moving out?”
He nodded. “I can’t stay here. I need some time and space to think about things.”
“I’ll sleep in the guest room, and you can have the bedroom,” she said, her voice catching. “Please don’t leave.”
He shook his head. Finally, he looked at her.
“I’m sorry I hit you,” he said softly. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay. It’s not okay at all. That’s why I can’t stay. I’m too angry right now. I need to just be by myself.”
Corrie stood, willing herself not to cry.
“Please stay,” she whispered. “We can work this out if we try.”
He shook his head again.
“I don’t know how,” he said. “Especially if this baby is . . . isn’t mine.”
“It will be yours.” Corrie was begging now. “If you want it, this baby will be yours.”
“Damn it!” Mark slammed his fist on the counter. “You can’t just pretend like it will be fine, Corrie.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
“Look,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. Not now. I need some time. I just came by to get some things.”
“Okay.” Her voice was small.
Mark got his suitcase from the laundry room, where he’d left it. Then he went upstairs, closing their bedroom door behind him.
Corrie sat at the kitchen table, her head cradled in her hands, tears dripping from her face.
Fifteen minutes later, Mark reappeared, lugging his suitcase and a garment bag.
“I’ll talk to you later,” he said.
“When?”
“I don’t know, Corrie. Just later.”
He left, closing the door behind him.
Corrie sat for a long time, crying until her head ached. Finally, she got up, took a shower, dressed, and went to work.
33
Bryn chewed her lip as she pulled into the sweeping driveway of her parents’ house, the house she’d grown up in. Funny that she never called it home.
Her mother had sounded surprised when she called. Bryn hadn’t been to visit in nearly a year. But Keri had said to come; she would change her plans so she could be here.
“Here goes nothing,” Bryn said as she got out of the car.
She rang the doorbell and, after a minute, her mother answered. She hugged Bryn lightly and led her into the living room.
“Hi, sweetheart. How are you? It’s been such a long time.”
“I know,” Bryn said. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been really busy.”
“I know, sometimes life intervenes. I’m just glad you’re here. Sit down. Do you want some coffee?”
“No, thanks.”
Bryn perched on the edge of an ornate wing chair.
“So, what brings you home today?” Keri asked.
“Well, actually, I have some news.” Bryn sat opposite her mother and tried to smile.
“Don’t tell me you and Paul are finally getting married? Oh honey, it’s about time!”
“No, Mom. Actually, I, um . . . well, I’ve left Paul.”
“Oh.” Keri raised her eyebrows. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Bryn said. “Actually, I’m better than all right. I’m pregnant!”
Keri’s eyes widened. “You’re what?”
“I’m pregnant. I’m going to have a baby.”
“Is it Paul’s?”
“God, Mom! Of course it’s Paul’s.”
“But then . . . why are you leaving him?”
Bryn sighed. “Because Paul is not father material. He’s never going to grow up and be a responsible adult. He’s never going to change, and I can’t just keep waiting on him to.”
“But, Bryn, how are you going to take care of a baby all on your own?”
“Well, I have good friends. And lots of women do it.”
“But you hardly make enough money to take care of yourself! Babies are expensive, honey. Paul may not be perfect, but at least he makes a decent salary.”
“Look, all Paul does is sit around the apartment smoking pot and watching television. I don’t want my baby to grow up around that.”
“Paul uses drugs?”
“Not drugs, Mom. Just pot. But it’s all he does.”
“Does he know you’re pregnant?”
“Yes. He suggested I get an abortion.”
“He didn’t!”
“Yeah, he did.”
“Well, good riddance then!”
Bryn nodded.
“But, honey, how are you going to make it on your own?”
“I have a good client base now, Mom. I make enough to live on.”
“Maybe you should move back home. You can have your old room, and I could make the guest room into a nursery.”
>
“No, Mom. I’m not moving in with you and Dad.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have a life.” Bryn stood and took her mother’s hands. “Look, I appreciate it, I really do. But my life is in Middlebrook.”
“You can work from anywhere.”
“Not just my work, Mom. My friends are there, my whole support system is there. Besides, I’m thirty-two years old. I’m perfectly capable of supporting myself and this baby.”
“I think I need a drink.”
Bryn followed her into the kitchen, where Keri poured herself a glass of chardonnay.
“I’d offer you a glass, but you can’t drink if you’re pregnant.”
“That’s okay. I’ll have a glass of orange juice.”
Keri poured the juice and they sat at the kitchen table.
“So,” Keri said, “when are you due?”
“May twelfth.”
“Well, we’ll have a shower in April. Will that be okay? Just a few friends and family. Maybe we’ll do it at the club.”
“Sure, Mom.” Bryn smiled. This was going better than she had imagined it would.
“Bryn?” Keri set her glass on the table. “If you’ve left Paul, where are you living?”
“I’ve been staying with Bob Carter. Do you remember him?”
“Isn’t he married to that awful woman with the red hair, the loud one?”
“Yeah, but he and Wendy are separated now. She left him for another guy.”
“Good lord! Don’t they have children?”
“Two boys,” Bryn said. “Bob is going for full custody.”
“So you are living with Bob while he’s going through a divorce and custody battle? Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“I’m not living with Bob. I’m just staying in his guest room until I find a place of my own.”
Keri shook her head. “I don’t understand your generation at all. When we got married, we married for life, for better or worse. You all don’t even bother getting married. And when you do, it seems like it’s a temporary arrangement.”
Bryn took a drink of juice. She had no answers for her mother.
“Well, it’s a different world, I suppose.” Keri rose and rinsed her glass in the sink.
“So, you’re going to look for an apartment in Middlebrook?”
Bryn nodded.
“How much do they rent for down there?”
The Weight of Small Things Page 19
