The Weight of Small Things

by Wood Emmons, Sherri

  “I think I’m going to head home,” she said, rising.

  “But it’s only nine o’clock,” Bryn protested. “You’re not staying till midnight?”

  “No.” Corrie put her coat on. “I’m really tired, and my feet are sore, and I just want to go to bed.”

  “Okay.” Bryn hugged her friend. “Drive carefully. It’s amateur night, you know.”

  Corrie looked at her quizzically.

  “You know, the night the amateur drinkers are out in force.”

  Corrie laughed. “I’ll be careful.”

  “Thanks for coming,” Bob said.

  “Thanks for having me.”

  When she’d gone, Bob and Bryn settled on the couch.

  “Do you want to watch a movie?” he asked.

  “Okay, but first I’m going to make some popcorn.”

  “You just had half a pizza!”

  “Hey, I am eating for two.”

  “Yeah, you and Orson Welles.”

  She swatted his head as she walked into the kitchen.

  45

  On New Year’s Day, Bryn was reading a magazine on the couch when the door opened and Wendy walked in.

  “Are you always here?” Wendy asked, glaring at her.

  “Do you ever knock?” Bryn spat back.

  “Hey.” Bob emerged from the hallway. “Cody’s just getting his jacket.”

  “You sure you don’t want to join us?” Wendy smiled at Bob, tilting her head slightly. “It will be more fun if we go as a family.”

  “No,” Bob said. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

  “More important stuff than spending time with your kids?”

  Bryn stared down at the magazine intently, wishing she were anywhere else.

  Bob’s voice was low and angry. “Wendy, I am not playing this game with you. You want to see Cody and he wants to see you. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  “What about Micah?”

  “I told you last night, he already had plans today.”

  “And you just let him go, even though you knew I wanted him today?”

  “He didn’t want to go with you.” Bob’s voice shook slightly. “I don’t think you have any idea what he’s going through, how mad he is that you left.”

  “I’m sure you’ve just been filling his head with poison.” Wendy was shouting now.

  “Daddy?”

  They turned to see Cody standing in the dining room.

  “It’s okay, buddy.” Bob scooped him into a hug. “Mommy’s here to take you to lunch and see a movie.”

  Cody looked anxiously from one parent to the other. Wendy smiled at him.

  “Come on, baby,” she said, stretching out her hand. “Let’s go see a movie.”

  Cody walked to his mother and took her hand.

  “I’ll have him back by five,” Wendy said, and they left.

  “God! She is such a witch!” Bryn’s voice shook. “How can she stand there and make you out to be the bad guy? I don’t know how you can stand it.”

  Bob shook his head and sat down. “I feel kind of sorry for her, actually.”

  Bryn stared open-mouthed.

  “I do,” Bob insisted. “She’s lost her kids. She’s lost her home. She left everything because of a dirtbag, and now she’s lost him, too.”

  “Well, I don’t feel sorry for her at all. She’s the one who left. And she doesn’t even see what she does to the boys.”

  “Yeah, she’s not the greatest mother in the world.”

  He smiled ruefully at Bryn. “I’m sorry you got stuck in the middle today.”

  She shrugged. “I could have gotten up and walked out, I guess. But I didn’t want to leave you alone with her.”

  He laughed. “She’s a spoiled, selfish child, but she’s not dangerous. She’s just Wendy.”

  “I didn’t mean she was going to kill you or anything. I just . . . I want you to know I’m on your side. Always.”

  “Thanks, Bryn. That means a lot to me.”

  He rose and ran his hand through his hair. “What are you going to do today?”

  “You’re looking at it.” Bryn raised the magazine. “It’s too cold to go out.”

  “Do you want to help me with something?”

  “Sure.” She laid the magazine on the table. “What are we doing?”

  “I need to go through a bunch of stuff in the attic, pull out Wendy’s stuff and box it up for her. I’ve been meaning to do it for a long time, but I just keep putting it off.”

  “Okay, let’s do it.” Bryn put on her tennis shoes. “It’ll be easier if you have company.”

  They walked up the stairs and Bob unlocked the attic door.

  “Wow!” Bryn drew a quick breath. “This is an awesome space! I can’t believe you don’t use it for anything. The light is incredible.”

  “We always talked about doing a playroom up here, but we never got around to it.

  “You seriously should do something with it. This room is amazing.”

  He smiled. “It’s amazingly dusty, that’s for sure.”

  They began at one end of the room, opening boxes and making piles—one of things to stay and one of things to go. And a separate pile for things Bob wasn’t sure about.

  “God, look at these.” Bob held a photo album out to her. “Look how young we were.”

  “And how goofy.” Bryn laughed at the picture of Bob and Wendy, Corrie and Daniel, and she and a boy whose name she couldn’t remember, all sitting on top of a cannon in the town square.

  They carried the album to the window and flipped pages.

  “There’s Paul. Look how young he was! God, he was just a little older then than we are now. I thought he was so grown-up and sophisticated. Turns out he’s the least grown-up adult I know.”

  “I love this one of Corrie and you.” Bob smiled at the picture. “You look like you’re about to break into song.”

  He turned the page and stopped.

  “My dad took this one the day Wendy and I got engaged,” he said softly.

  “You look happy,” Bryn said, looking down at the picture of Bob with his arm around Wendy’s waist, both of them smiling at the camera.

  “I was,” he said. “I thought the best part of my life was about to begin.”

  He stared at the picture for a long minute before closing the album.

  “Okay, I guess this stays.” He put the album in a pile.

  “Do you still love her?” Bryn didn’t mean to ask the question, but it slipped out before she could stop herself.

  “In a way, I guess.” Bob sat down on the floor next to the “keep” pile. “I mean, she was the first girl I ever loved, the first girl I ever slept with. She was my wife for almost ten years, and she’s the mother of my children. I can’t just erase all that.”

  “She’s the first girl you slept with?”

  “First and only.”

  “Seriously? You’ve never had sex with anyone but Wendy?”

  “I know, pretty sad, right? But we were all of seventeen when we started dating and then we got married.”

  “I think it’s sweet.”

  He just laughed.

  “Oh, wow,” Bryn said, opening a box. “Look at all the records! There must be a hundred here.”

  “Those were my dad’s,” Bob said, grinning. “Wait right there.”

  He walked to the other end of the room and opened a cabinet.

  “Here!” He sounded triumphant.

  “A record player? Seriously, you have a record player? Does it work?”

  “I think so.” He carried the turntable to an electrical outlet and plugged it in.

  “What do you want to hear?”

  “Oh, we have to play some disco! I mean, it’s a record player.”

  Bryn handed him an album by the Bee Gees, and watched while he placed the needle on the vinyl. The record popped and crackled for a second, and then the pulse of “Stayin’ Alive” filled the attic.

  “Oh, hell yeah!” Bryn was on her fe
et in a moment, dancing to the music and singing along. Bob watched her, grinning widely.

  “Come on!” She grabbed his hand. “Dance!”

  And so they danced until they were out of breath. And then they danced some more. And then the pace changed and they were listening to “How Deep Is Your Love?”

  “Uh oh,” Bryn teased. “A slow one. Are you going to slow dance with me?”

  He hesitated just a second, then took her in his arms and began swaying with her to the music.

  Bryn leaned into his chest, her arms draped around his neck. She was surprised at how nice it felt just to be held. She’d forgotten the thrill of dancing with someone new, even if the someone new wasn’t completely new.

  They moved around the attic, Bob humming along with the music. Neither spoke.

  When the song was over, neither of them let go. They stood close together, arms around each other, for a long minute. Finally, Bryn took a step back and looked up at him.

  “Thanks,” she said. “That was fun.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her then, not a friendly, just-pals kind of kiss. A real, open-mouthed, heated kiss. And for just an instant, she kissed him back.

  Then she pulled away abruptly.

  “No,” she said.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  He turned from her, his cheeks reddening.

  She took his hand and made him turn around.

  “It’s not that I don’t want you to kiss me,” she said.

  “Then what?”

  “You’re still married to Wendy. You said just a while ago that you still love her. You’re in a bad place right now. I can’t be your rebound.”

  “That’s not what I was thinking.”

  “I know.” She smiled at him. “You would never do that on purpose. But trust me on this, I would be a rebound. And I just can’t do that right now.”

  He walked to the window and said nothing for a minute. Then, he turned back to face her.

  “I don’t think that’s it, Bryn. I mean, I know it might seem that way. But having you here the last few months, it’s been great.”

  “For me, too.” She sat down on a box. “It’s been a lifesaver for me. But you’re married, Bob. More than that, you’re still in love with your wife.”

  He sat down on the floor by her feet.

  “I know,” he said softly. “But this feels so . . . right. You and me, we just work.”

  Bryn watched him, her heart pounding hard.

  “If you still feel that way after the divorce—and I don’t mean right after the divorce, I mean after a while—then we’ll think about it.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “It’s really okay. I’m in a weird place, too. I mean, I’m pregnant and facing raising a child alone. Part of me wants to grab hold of you and hang on for dear life. But I can’t.”

  “Why not?” He looked up at her. “Seriously, why not?”

  “Okay,” she said steadily. “You’re the counselor. You should know this. We’re both going through hard transitions. How many rebound relationships survive?”

  “I guess,” he conceded.

  They sat for a minute, then Bryn rose and dusted off her jeans.

  “I think we’ve made a dent here,” she said, nodding to the piles on the floor. “I’m ready for a shower.”

  She left him in the attic, still sitting on the floor.

  46

  “So you’re not going to stay in the house?”

  Bryn stood at the counter in Bob’s kitchen, making scrambled eggs. The boys were at school and Bob at work.

  “No,” Corrie said. “I mean, I love the house. But it’s our house, Mark’s and mine. I can’t stay in it without him. It’s just too sad.”

  Bryn nodded, putting bread into the toaster.

  “Plus, I’m not sure if I can afford it on my own.”

  “I wondered about that,” Bryn said. “I mean, it’s a great house. But you could find something nice for a lot less.”

  She scooped eggs onto plates, buttered toast, and set the plates on the table.

  “Thanks,” Corrie said. “This looks good.”

  “I’m glad your appetite is back.” Bryn laughed. “Mine is back with a vengeance. I feel like I’m hungry all the time. Pretty soon, I’m going to look like a beached whale.” She patted her stomach.

  “You’re hardly even showing,” Corrie said. “Besides, you’re supposed to eat well when you’re pregnant.”

  “Well, so are you, so eat up.”

  They ate in companionable silence.

  “I was thinking,” Corrie said, not looking up. “Maybe we could get a house together.”

  “Oh.” Bryn sounded surprised.

  “Only if you want to,” Corrie said. “I mean, if you want to get your own place, that’s fine. Or maybe you’ll just stay here. . . .” Her voice trailed away.

  “No, I can’t just stay here,” Bryn said. “I’ve been putting it off for months now and Bob’s been great. He’s been so great. But I do need to find a place.”

  “So what do you think?” Corrie asked. “We could look for a house to rent together. Something with four bedrooms, maybe near the park. Between the two of us, we could afford something nice.”

  “Maybe,” Bryn said.

  “We don’t have to,” Corrie said. “I understand if you don’t want to.”

  “It’s not that! I mean, I’ve actually thought about it, us living together. It would be fun, and we wouldn’t have to do it all on our own. But . . . what if you and Mark get back together? Or, what if you decide to go to Los Angeles with Daniel? Or . . . I don’t know, what if you just decide you don’t like living with me? Then where would we be?”

  Corrie smiled at her friend.

  “I know I like living with you,” she said. “We did it for four years in college.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Bryn said. “We were kids. We didn’t have kids. I just don’t want to do anything that would ruin our friendship.”

  “Nothing will ever ruin our friendship, Bryn! You are my best friend in the world. I love you. Yeah, it might take some getting used to. But I think we could make it work, if we tried.”

  “And if Mark decides he wants to make it work?”

  Corrie shook her head. “That’s not going to happen. He’s filed for divorce. He’s made it pretty clear that he can’t forgive me and he won’t raise Daniel’s baby.”

  “And what about Daniel?”

  Corrie smiled ruefully. “Daniel is in California, and he’s going to stay in California. I don’t want to live with him or even see him, really. If I could, I’d forget about him completely.”

  “Well, you do whatever works for you,” Bryn said firmly. “You take care of you and your baby, and let Daniel take care of himself.”

  They washed the breakfast dishes.

  “I should probably go to work,” Corrie said. “I’ve been out of the office so much in the last few weeks, I think Kenetha is ready to quit.”

  “Have you told her yet?”

  Corrie shook her head. “I’ve been waiting until I had the test results, and then Christmas came and I just put it off.”

  “She’ll be so excited for you.”

  “I hope so. I hope she doesn’t freak out.”

  Bryn laughed. “I don’t think so. This is Kenetha we’re talking about. She’s not going to judge.”

  Corrie hugged her tightly. “Thanks, Bryn. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  She picked up her purse and briefcase.

  “Corrie?”

  Bryn smiled at her.

  “This weekend, let’s look at houses.”

  “Okay!”

  Two days later, newspaper in hand, they drove through the quiet park neighborhood of Middlebrook. The park was blanketed lightly in snow.

  “There it is.” Bryn pointed to a small, yellow, craftsman-style house facing the park, sporting a FOR RENT sign in the tiny fro
nt yard.

  Corrie parked on the street and they got out of the car.

  “It’s cute,” Bryn said. “And it’s got a great view.”

  Corrie nodded. “It is cute. But it looks kind of small.”

  They knocked on the front door, which opened immediately, revealing a large, matronly looking woman.

  “Mrs. Winston?” Corrie said. “I’m Corrie Philips. We spoke on the phone.”

  “Yes, come in.” The woman stepped aside so Corrie and Bryn could enter the house. “It’s cold out there today!”

  The living room was small but cheery, with a stone fireplace and a cozy window seat.

  “This is the living room,” Mrs. Winston said. “And through there is the dining room and behind that the kitchen. Then you’ve got two bedrooms down the hall and two more upstairs.”

  They wandered through the house, opening closets and flushing the toilets. It was much smaller than Corrie’s house, but it felt homey.

  Later, they sat in the car out front, talking.

  “It’s awfully small,” Corrie said again.

  “But it has four bedrooms,” Bryn said. “You can have the two downstairs, and I can take the upstairs. Or you can have upstairs, if you’d rather.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I love it!” Bryn’s face shone. “It’s cute, it’s cozy, and the park is right here!” She waved her hand toward the park. “It’s by far the nicest one we’ve seen. It’s not far from campus, and it’s not far from Bob’s. It’s perfect!”

  Corrie smiled. “Okay, I’m glad you like it. But you know I can’t move on it until I talk to Mark about the house. We’ll have to put it on the market. I can’t afford that mortgage and this rent at the same time.”

  Bryn’s face fell.

  “Maybe I can,” Corrie said. “If Mark keeps paying half the mortgage on the house, maybe I can do both. I’ll talk to him about it. Are you okay?” She eyed Bryn’s face. “Last month you seemed perfectly content to stay at Bob’s, and now it seems like you’re in such a rush to leave.”

  “He kissed me.” Bryn didn’t look at Corrie as she spoke. “A couple weeks ago, we were packing up some of Wendy’s stuff in the attic, and we found some old records, so we played them. And we danced. And then . . . he kissed me.”

  Corrie stared at her for a minute. “Oh my God,” she said. “Did you kiss him back?”