The Weight of Small Things

by Wood Emmons, Sherri

  Daniel said nothing for a minute. Finally, he leaned forward across the table and stared at her.

  “I know you love him,” he said. “But you loved me first. And you’re having my baby.”

  Corrie stared down at her coffee cup.

  “I loved you a long time ago,” she said softly. “I was a different person then. A lot has changed since college. I moved on.”

  “Then why did you sleep with me?”

  She leaned her face into her hands. “It was a mistake,” she whispered. “It should never have happened.”

  “But it did happen, and you’re pregnant. And whether you like it or not, Corrie, I am this baby’s father. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

  Corrie rose and carried her coffee cup to the sink.

  “Of course it counts,” she said, her back turned to him. “But it doesn’t change the way I feel.”

  She turned to look at him.

  “I don’t love you, Daniel. I did a long time ago, but we were kids then. Yes, the baby is yours. And we’ll have to figure out how to make that work. I don’t want to keep you away from her, if you want to be in her life. But I am not moving to California. I am not moving in with you.”

  “So you’re planning on raising this baby on your own?”

  She nodded.

  “I have a good job. I have a good support system. I have great insurance. I will be okay. We will be okay.”

  “A baby needs a father.” His voice was grim.

  “A baby needs people to love her, and this baby will have that in spades.”

  Daniel rose and took her hands.

  “I know you aren’t ready to think about it now, but promise me you won’t rule it out altogether,” he said. “Just promise me that.”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m really tired,” she said.

  “Okay, I’ll go. But I’m not going back to L.A. until we’ve talked again.”

  She nodded and walked with him to the front door, allowed herself to be pulled into a hug.

  “I love you, Corrie-Andy,” he whispered.

  “Good night,” she said, pulling away from him.

  She locked the door behind him and sat on the couch to cry.

  41

  The next morning, Daniel was at the door bearing bagels with cream cheese.

  “I have to go to work,” Corrie protested.

  “Take the day off,” he said.

  “I can’t.”

  “Come on, Corrie. I’m only here today. I have to go back to L.A. tomorrow for a Christmas program the kids are putting on. And we have a lot of stuff to talk about.”

  She sighed.

  “All right. Let me call the office.”

  Daniel made coffee while Corrie called Kenetha. By the time she walked into the kitchen, he had set the table and was pouring orange juice.

  “I’m really not much of a breakfast person,” she said.

  “You need to eat. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I can scramble some eggs.”

  “No, just a bagel.”

  “You need some protein,” he said. “It’s good for the baby. You just sit down and I’ll make breakfast.”

  She smiled. It felt nice having someone take care of her.

  Daniel rummaged through the refrigerator, pulling out an onion, a green pepper, eggs, and cheese.

  “When did you get to be so domesticated?” Corrie asked.

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time,” he said to her. “The first couple years in L.A., I pretty much lived on fast food. It got old. So, I learned how to cook.”

  She watched him move about her kitchen as if he were at home, chopping vegetables, toasting bagels, scrambling eggs. The Daniel she’d known in college never cooked.

  “There you go.” He set a plate before her.

  “Thank you. It looks good.”

  Daniel sat down across from her with his own plate. They had just taken a first bite, when they heard a knock at the back door.

  “Who could that be?” Corrie said, rising. “It’s eight o’clock in the morning.”

  She opened the door to find Mark standing on the back steps.

  “I hope it’s okay,” he said. “I need to pick up a couple things before . . .”

  His voice trailed away as his eyes locked on Daniel, sitting at the kitchen table. He looked from Daniel to Corrie and back again.

  “I didn’t know you had company,” he said, his cheeks reddening.

  “It’s okay,” Corrie said. She could feel her own cheeks burning. “Um, Mark, this is Daniel. Daniel, this is my husband, Mark.”

  Daniel rose and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mark.”

  Mark simply stared at him, ignoring the outstretched hand.

  “I’ll come back another time,” he said, turning away.

  “Mark!” Corrie followed him into the yard. “Wait, please. Let me just explain. . . .”

  “You don’t need to explain anything, Corrie.” His voice was cold. “It’s all pretty clear.”

  “No, it’s not! Mark, please wait.”

  But he only got into his car, not looking back. She watched him drive away and felt tears stinging her eyes.

  “I’m really sorry.”

  Daniel stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders.

  She pulled away from him and walked back into the house, Daniel trailing behind her.

  She splashed cold water on her face in the bathroom, willing her stomach to settle down. Finally, she came back to the kitchen, where Daniel was eating a bagel.

  “I can’t do this,” she said, sinking into her chair.

  “Do what?”

  “This . . . any of it. This is not my life.”

  He said nothing.

  “That was my husband,” she said, her voice shaking. “We are sitting here eating breakfast in the house that he bought. God, he probably thinks you spent the night!”

  “He’s the one who left,” Daniel said softly.

  “Because I cheated on him!” Corrie’s voice rose. “And now he comes over to find me sitting here with the man I cheated with. God, I’m such an awful, awful person.”

  She buried her head in her hands and began crying again.

  Daniel sat quietly for a minute, then rose and walked around the table to wrap his arms around her.

  “You are not an awful person. You are the farthest thing in the world from that. You are kind and wonderful and amazing. And you are human.”

  She leaned into him and sniffled to a stop.

  “The eggs are cold,” he said. “So eat your bagel and you’ll feel better.”

  She managed a few bites before giving up. Her stomach was in knots.

  “Okay,” Daniel said, taking the plates to the sink and rinsing them. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  “It’s cold outside,” Corrie protested.

  “So put on a coat. Come on, it’ll do you some good.”

  They bundled up and walked through the neighborhood.

  “Pretty ritzy,” Daniel said as they passed one beautiful house after another.

  “It’s a good neighborhood,” Corrie said.

  “Are you going to stay here after the divorce?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not sure I can swing the mortgage on my own. Besides, it feels really empty without Mark there.”

  “The offer stands, you know. You could come to California.”

  “I can’t, Daniel.”

  “You can’t, or you won’t?”

  “Both, actually.”

  “So if you’re here and I’m there, how are we going to do this parenting thing?”

  She sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, it will be hard to be involved in her life when you’re so far away.”

  They walked in silence for a minute.

  “You could move back here,” she said.

  He shook his head. “I can’t leave the center. There’s still too much to do there.”

  “How’s the
funding?” she asked.

  “We got some checks after the article came out. Thanks,” he said. “But the big news is that we have a potential new donor, a big-time donor. He’s coming to the Christmas program tomorrow.”

  “I hope it works out.”

  “I think it will. He seems pretty excited about the work we’re doing.”

  “It really is cold,” Corrie said, shivering.

  “It feels good,” Daniel said, smiling. “One of the only things I miss about Indiana is winter.”

  “Ugh,” she said. “I could live without it.”

  “Come to L.A. and you can.”

  She just smiled and shook her head.

  “I’m ready to go back,” she said. “I’m freezing.”

  He laughed. “Let’s go make some cocoa.”

  They sat in the living room with steaming mugs.

  “This is nice,” Daniel said.

  Corrie felt a tiny flutter inside. “Oh,” she said. “The baby is moving.”

  “Seriously? You can feel it moving?” Daniel put his hand on her stomach. “I don’t feel anything.”

  “It’s too early,” she said. “Mostly it just feels like a butterfly in my stomach.”

  “Have you thought about names?”

  She nodded. “I really like Emmaline. Emmaline Marie. What do you think?”

  “It’s pretty. I like it. God, I can’t believe we’re having a baby!”

  She smiled. “Kind of an unorthodox family.”

  “But still a family,” he said. “I’ll just have to rack up a lot of frequent-flier miles, I guess.”

  “When she’s old enough, she can come visit you.”

  He sighed. “It’s not the same as being in her life all the time. I really wish you would come to L.A.”

  She said nothing.

  “Come back with me for Christmas,” he said suddenly. “I’ll buy your ticket. Just come out and spend Christmas with me.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t take time off work. And I already told Bryn and Bob I’d come to their house.”

  “Is she still living with him?”

  Corrie nodded. “It seems to work for them both.”

  “Has he filed for divorce yet?”

  “Yes, it should be final in January.”

  “What about the kids?”

  “They’re staying with Bob. Wendy can have them every other weekend, but only at her parents’ house. As long as she’s living with Luke, she can’t have them at her house.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “She made some very stupid choices,” Corrie said.

  “She must have,” he agreed. “Well, good for Bob. Now he can move on. Maybe he’ll meet someone else . . . if Bryn ever moves out of his house!”

  “She will. I think after the holidays she’s going to start looking for a place.”

  “It’s about time.”

  Corrie laughed. “Actually, they seem almost like an old married couple these days. She’s pregnant, too, you know.”

  “Bryn? Bryn is pregnant? Who’s the father?”

  “Paul, but they’ve broken up for good this time.”

  “So, is she expecting Bob to be her baby’s daddy?”

  “No, she’s not. They’re just really good friends. I think her being there has been good for both of them.”

  “If you say so.”

  They spent the rest of the morning talking about the baby. Corrie made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch, and in the afternoon they went to the mall. Daniel bought a car seat for the baby and Corrie bought half a dozen tiny dresses.

  “This feels right,” Daniel said as they walked through the parking lot toward the car. “Just like a regular couple planning for their baby.”

  “It does feel nice,” she agreed. “But we’re not a couple. You know that, right?”

  “I know you keep telling me so.”

  “Because it’s true.”

  He took her to her favorite restaurant for dinner, then walked her to the door of her house.

  “You sure you won’t come for Christmas?” he asked.

  “I can’t,” she said.

  They stood on the porch for a long, awkward minute.

  “I’m really tired,” she said.

  “I know. You should get some rest.”

  He hugged her and kissed her forehead.

  “I’ll call you when I get home,” he said. “And we’ll figure out when I’m coming again.”

  “Okay.” She unlocked the front door and turned to him.

  “Daniel, thank you for today.”

  “You’re welcome, Corrie-Andy. It was fun.”

  She went inside, turned on the television, and fell asleep on the couch.

  42

  Bryn awoke on Christmas morning to a light tapping on her bedroom door.

  “Bryn?” Cody’s voice was soft.

  “What do you need, Cody?” Bryn looked at the clock. Seven a.m.

  “Are you awake?”

  “I am now.”

  “Are you getting up?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Good! Daddy says we can’t open our presents until you get up.”

  “Daddy also told you not to wake her up!” Bob’s voice startled her.

  “But, Daddy, she’s already awake.”

  “Sorry, Bryn,” Bob called through the door.

  “It’s okay,” she called back. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  She yawned, stretched, and reached for her robe.

  The living room was strewn with brightly wrapped packages. The lights on the tree sparkled. Micah and Cody sat on the floor, picking up packages and shaking them.

  “Merry Christmas,” Bryn said, smiling.

  “Merry Christmas, Bryn! Look at all the stuff Santa brought!” Cody’s eyes shone.

  “Here.” Bob handed her a mug of hot coffee. “Sorry about the early wakeup call.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, beaming back at him. “It’s Christmas!”

  “Can we start now, Daddy?” Micah was holding a long box wrapped in festive red-and-white paper.

  “Yeah.” Bob smiled at his sons. “Have at it.”

  The next half hour was pure bedlam, filled with torn paper, scattered bows, and cries of delight.

  “Thanks, Bryn!” Cody had just unwrapped a huge Transformer. “Look, Micah, it’s Optimus Prime!”

  “Cool,” Micah said, not looking up from the package he was opening. Bryn watched him intently, as a huge smile spread across his face. He pulled a pair of binoculars from the box.

  “Whoo!” he breathed. “How did you know?”

  He raised his eyes to Bryn, who grinned down at him.

  “An elf told me,” she said.

  “Thanks, Bryn!” Micah ran to the couch, every trace of his seven-year-old coolness erased, and threw his arms around her.

  “You’re welcome.” Bryn felt tears sting her eyes. She looked over Micah’s head to where Bob sat, gazing at them, his own eyes shining with tears.

  “Okay,” Bob said, rising. “Why don’t you guys pick up the paper and bows, and I’ll start breakfast.”

  Bryn followed him into the kitchen.

  “That was fun,” she said, refilling her coffee cup.

  “Yeah,” he said softly. “I was kind of worried about this, their first Christmas without Wendy. But they seem okay.”

  “Yes, they do. You’re a great dad, Bob.”

  He turned and smiled at her. “And next year, you’ll have a baby of your own for Christmas.”

  “It’s still hard to believe,” she said, patting her belly.

  “Thanks, Bryn,” he said, taking her hands. “You made this morning a whole lot easier.”

  “Back at you,” she said, kissing his cheek.

  The doorbell rang.

  “That’s got to be Corrie,” Bryn said. “I’ll go.”

  She walked into the living room just as Cody opened the front door.

  “Mommy!” He
threw his arms around his mother, grinning broadly.

  “Hey, baby!” Wendy knelt down and wrapped Cody in a tight embrace. “Merry Christmas!”

  “Wendy?” Bob stood in the living room, staring at his not-quite-ex-wife.

  “Merry Christmas, Bob.” She smiled up at him. “I hope it’s okay. I just had to come see them.”

  “I wish you had called first. But . . . sure, it’s okay. Come on in. I was just making breakfast.”

  “Micah?” Wendy turned to look at her older son, standing just behind his father, watching her.

  “Hi,” he said softly.

  “Don’t I get a hug?” Wendy asked, opening her arms.

  Micah walked toward her slowly and allowed himself to be hugged.

  “Where’s Luke?” he asked.

  “Oh, Luke is out of the picture,” Wendy said, smiling at him. “We broke up. So . . . now maybe we can spend more time together.”

  Bob met Bryn’s eyes across the room. She raised her eyebrows and he shrugged.

  “Bryn.” Wendy’s voice was sharp. “I didn’t even see you there.” She eyed Bryn with obvious distaste, her eyes traveling from Bryn’s tousled hair to her short robe.

  “Hi, Wendy,” Bryn said, feeling suddenly very exposed. “Merry Christmas.”

  “So.” Wendy turned away from her and said to Bob, “Are we making Christmas pancakes? Because I brought real maple syrup!”

  She followed him into the kitchen, the boys right behind them. Bryn wrapped her robe more tightly around herself and sighed. She was surprised at how deflated she felt.

  Get it together, Bryn. It’s not like they’re your family.

  She went to her room to pull on some jeans and a sweater. By the time she came back to the living room, the boys were setting the table. In the kitchen, she could hear Wendy laughing. Her stomach tightened.

  “What can I do to help?” she asked, walking into the kitchen.

  “We’ve got it covered,” Wendy said, not turning from the stove, where she was flipping pancakes.

  Bob smiled at Bryn. “Why don’t you just sit down and relax?”

  So Bryn sat at the table, watching the family settle swiftly into an old routine. She was grateful when the doorbell rang again.

  “I’ll get it.” She opened the door and wrapped her arms around Corrie.

  “Thank God you’re here,” she whispered.

  “Are you okay?” Corrie pulled back to look at her.