The Weight of Small Things

by Wood Emmons, Sherri

  “Hey,” he said, smiling. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay,” she said, not stepping aside from the door.

  “Can I come in?”

  After a long pause, she stepped backward so he could enter the house.

  “This is nice,” he said, looking around the room. “Like a real house.”

  “What do you want, Paul?”

  He took off his coat and draped it over the wing chair, then settled onto the couch.

  “I thought we should probably talk,” he said.

  She sat across from him in the rocking chair and waited.

  “Is Corrie here?” he asked, looking around.

  “She’s in the kitchen.”

  “Oh . . . okay.” He sat a moment, then said, “Here’s the deal. I didn’t get tenure at the university. But I’ve got a job offer from the University of Kentucky. It’s in Lexington, just a couple hours away.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Well, good. I mean good for you. I’m glad you’ve got a job.”

  “And I think you should come with me.” Paul leaned forward, his hands on his knees.

  “It’s a good job,” he said. “Tenure-track. I think I could do well there. And it’s better money. And . . . and I think you should come with me.”

  He sat back, waiting for her response.

  Bryn simply watched him.

  “Come on, Bryn. I want you to come with me. We can start over—you, me, and the baby. I’ll get us a house with a yard and a studio for you. We can be a family. Don’t you want that?”

  Still she said nothing.

  “Are you seeing someone else?” he asked finally.

  “No,” she said.

  He relaxed a bit and smiled. “So, you’re alone. I’m alone. We don’t need to be alone, baby. We can be together. Don’t you want the baby to have a father?”

  “Not if that father is a pot-smoking drunk.” Her voice was flat.

  “Okay, fair enough.” He leaned forward again. “I’ve stopped smoking weed.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I mean it. I haven’t had anything for over a month. I gave my whole stash to Larry.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “And I’ve cut back on the drinking. Way back. Like just a beer, maybe two, on the weekend. And I’m trying to quit smoking. That one’s a killer, but I’m trying.”

  She sat back, letting that sink in.

  “I really am trying, Bryn. I want to be a father to this baby. I want to be with you. I want us to get married, the whole nine yards.”

  She shook her head. It was too much to believe.

  “I know you have to think about it. I know you probably don’t believe me. Can we just see each other? Just like . . . date, like we were going to before? Can we just give it a try?”

  “When are you going to Lexington?”

  “In August, when my lease is up.”

  She said nothing.

  “So, that gives us a while to work things out,” he continued. “That’s, like, six months. You’ll see, I can do this. I can be a family guy.”

  She shook her head again.

  “Don’t say no.” Paul rose and reached for his coat. “Just think about it, will you? Just think about how good it will be for us to raise this baby together.”

  He crossed the room and kissed the top of her head.

  “Call me, okay?”

  She nodded, not rising as he left.

  “Are you all right?” Corrie stood by the chair, her hand on Bryn’s shoulder.

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t sound sure about that.”

  Corrie sat down where Paul had been moments before, watching Bryn carefully.

  “He sounded sincere,” Corrie said, sighing. “I mean, I know he’s been a jerk before, but he did sound sincere.”

  Bryn shook her head. “He always sounds sincere when he wants something,” she said. “But he never follows through.”

  “What if he does this time?”

  Bryn didn’t answer.

  “Do you want some tea?” Corrie asked.

  “What I want is a whiskey sour!”

  Corrie stared at her.

  “Don’t worry,” Bryn said. “I didn’t say I was going to have one.”

  Corrie smiled at her. “So, tea?”

  “Yes.”

  They sat at the table in the dining room with mint tea.

  “What are you going to do?” Corrie asked.

  “I don’t know.” Bryn set her cup on the table and rested her head in her hands.

  “I mean, what if he can do it?” she asked, not looking at Corrie. “If he really can grow up and be a dad, am I just crazy to let him go?”

  Corrie didn’t answer. After a long minute, she asked, “Do you still love him?”

  Bryn shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean, I think I don’t. I know I don’t. And then he shows up and does that ‘I can be different’ routine, and I start wondering. Maybe I do love him. Is that crazy?”

  “Love is always crazy,” Corrie said, smiling.

  “Do you think I should give him another chance?”

  Corrie shook her head. “I don’t know. I think you have to do what you want to do.”

  They sat in silence.

  “I think what you really want is to go back to Bob’s,” Corrie said softly.

  Bryn stared at her, then rose, carrying her cup to the kitchen.

  “That’s not going to happen,” she said.

  “I didn’t say it would,” Corrie replied. “I just said I think that’s what you really want.”

  Bryn walked to the front room and pulled on her parka.

  “I’m going for a walk,” she announced.

  Corrie watched her cross the street into the park. Then she called Bob.

  49

  “So, what’s up?” Bob smiled when he opened the front door.

  “Are the boys here?” Corrie looked past him into the living room.

  “They’re with Wendy this weekend. Are you okay?”

  She smiled as she took off her coat. “I’m fine. It’s Bryn I’m worried about.”

  “What’s up with Bryn?”

  “Paul came over today.”

  “Great.” Bob sat down on the couch. “Is she upset?”

  “I think so. I don’t know. He’s got a tenure-track position at the University of Kentucky. He wants Bryn to go with him.”

  “She’s not seriously considering it, is she?” He stared at her, eyes wide.

  “I don’t know. I can’t tell.”

  Bob sighed heavily. “I guess she still loves him, then.”

  “I don’t know that, either.” Corrie paused, then plunged ahead. “She told me what happened, that you kissed her.”

  Bob shook his head. “I know, it was a mistake.”

  “Maybe,” Corrie agreed. “But I watch you guys together and, honestly, Bob, you just seem to fit. It’s like you’re an old married couple. And I know she loves the boys and I know she misses them . . . and you.”

  Bob stared at her again.

  “She made it pretty clear she didn’t want me,” he said softly.

  “Because she thinks you’re still hung up on Wendy,” Corrie said.

  Bob rose and began pacing the living room.

  “How do you feel about her?” Corrie asked.

  “Who, Wendy?”

  “No, Bryn. How do you feel about Bryn?”

  Bob stopped pacing and stood for a minute, staring out the window.

  “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I mean, I love Bryn. She’s my friend. She has been for a long time. And having her here was great, really great. She’s fun and she’s smart and she’s great with the boys.”

  “And?”

  “And . . . she’s beautiful and annoying and sexy and frustrating and wonderful. And she’s probably still in love with Paul. And even if I wanted to, I can’t go after her. Not now. I just got divorced. It’s too soon. She thinks she’d just be my transition relationship.”


  “Do you think that?”

  He sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Corrie. But I am not going to do anything to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to start a relationship with Bryn and then lose her. I couldn’t take that. And neither could the boys.”

  “Okay,” Corrie said softly. “I just had to find out.”

  “I hope to God she doesn’t go back to Paul!” Bob’s voice exploded into the room.

  “Me too,” Corrie agreed. “Me too.”

  When Corrie got home, Bryn was in the kitchen making brownies, music blaring from the computer.

  “Hey,” she said, looking up from the bowl. “Where have you been?”

  “I went in to the office,” Corrie lied. “I had to pick up a file.” She patted her bag.

  “You work too much.” Bryn poured batter into the pan.

  “So, are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” Bryn said.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No.” She put the brownies in the oven. “I mean, I was pissed at first, but I know you just want me to be happy.”

  She turned to face Corrie.

  “You’re wrong about Bob,” she said. “I’m not pining for him, wishing I could go back. He’s a friend, and that’s that.”

  “Okay,” Corrie said. “And what about Paul?”

  “Paul is a jerk,” Bryn said firmly. “He can’t change. He’ll never change. I’m glad he’s going to Lexington. Out of sight, out of mind.”

  “Okay,” Corrie said again. “Well, good for you.”

  Bryn hugged her tightly, then said, “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

  50

  Bryn stood in the dark hallway the next day, key in hand, staring at the door of the apartment she had shared with Paul for so many years. He’d be in a faculty meeting today. Every Monday afternoon for all the years she’d known him, faculty meetings had been the bane of his existence.

  She felt foolish even being here. Of course he hadn’t changed. He couldn’t change.

  Still, if there was a chance . . . She’d just slip in and look around. She knew where he kept his pot, his clips, his bong. She’d check the fridge and cabinets for liquor. At least then she’d know for sure.

  She took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

  “Hey, babe!” A voice came from the living room. “I thought you had a meeting today.”

  Bryn stepped into the kitchen and looked into the living room. A young blond woman—not a day over twenty-five, if that—sat on the couch in an oversized jersey and panties, painting her toenails.

  Her smile froze when she saw Bryn.

  “Who are you?” She rose, holding the polish brush in front of her like a weapon.

  “I’m Bryn.”

  The woman’s face remained blank.

  “I’m Paul’s ex.”

  The young woman relaxed a bit. “What are you doing here?”

  “I . . .” Bryn paused. What the hell was she doing here, anyway?

  “I just came to drop off my key.”

  She removed the apartment key from her ring and handed it to the young woman.

  “Okay.” The blond took the key. “I’ll give it to him.”

  Bryn turned to leave, then turned back.

  “This is his baby, you know.” She opened her coat to pat her belly.

  The girl simply stared at her.

  “Take my advice, get out while you can.”

  Bryn closed the door behind her and walked to her car, feeling lighter than she had in a long time.

  “Oh my God!” Corrie took Bryn’s hands. “Are you okay?”

  “Actually, yes.” Bryn smiled. “I’m fine. I mean, you’d think I’d be angry or sad or something. But mostly I’m just relieved.”

  “I cannot believe him! I cannot believe he would come over here and beg you to move to Kentucky with him and promise you he’s changed, and he’s got a girl living with him. What an unbelievable ego!”

  “Yeah,” Bryn agreed. “Paul has enough ‘self-esteem’ for an entire city.”

  “So, you’re really fine?”

  “Yes, I really am. I knew he was who he was. I just had to make sure. I should have trusted my instincts. I feel kind of stupid for even half believing him, but I had to see for myself.”

  “And now you know.”

  “And now I know.”

  Someone knocked on the door, hard.

  “I’ll go.” Bryn rose and opened the door. Bob stepped into the house without a word and took her hand.

  “Okay, I know I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was stupid and selfish and . . . stupid. And I know I only just got divorced. And I know you think I still love Wendy. But you’re wrong. I mean, I do still care about her. She’s the mother of my kids, and she’ll always be part of my life. But I’m not in love with her anymore. I’m through with that chapter, and I’m ready to get on with my life.”

  Corrie rose and tiptoed into the kitchen.

  “Bob . . .” Bryn began.

  “No, wait,” Bob interrupted her. “Hear me out. Just sit down and listen for a minute.”

  Bryn walked back to the couch and sat down, keeping her eyes on Bob as he paced back and forth before the fireplace.

  “Look, Bryn,” he said. “I don’t know how you feel about me. I mean, we’ve been friends forever, and maybe that’s all you want to be. And that’s okay. I mean, it’s not really okay, but it is. I mean . . . God, I’m making a mess of this.”

  He dropped down beside her on the couch.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I care about you. I really care about you. As a friend, but not just as a friend. As . . . I don’t know, but more than a friend. I miss you. I hate that you left and I hate that I miss you so much and I hate that I’m probably freaking you out right now and you’ll never want to see me again. But I won’t just stand by and watch you go back to that jerk! You’re too good for him. You’ve always been too good for him. And . . .” His voice trailed away and he stared at her, smiling at him.

  “And I’m not going back to Paul,” she said softly. “I’m never going back to Paul.”

  “Oh. Well . . . good, then. I mean, I’m glad.”

  He rose. “Then I should probably go. Right? I mean, you probably were doing something and I just barged in and . . .”

  “Bob, sit down.” Bryn took his hand and pulled him back down to the couch. She took a deep breath and said, “You are so great.”

  “Okay,” he said, turning away. “I get it. We’re friends and that’s all you want. And that’s fine, really.”

  “Are you going to let me finish?” She held onto his hand.

  He sighed and sat back, looking away from her.

  “You really are so great,” she said again. “And yes, we’ve been friends forever. And yes, it’s scary to think about screwing up that friendship. And yes, it freaks me out to think about being in a relationship with you. But . . .”

  He turned to look at her finally.

  “But what?”

  “But I really care about you, too. As a friend and as more than a friend. I do worry that you’re not over Wendy. And my situation is a mess. And the timing is all wrong. And it’s probably a huge mistake to even think about it. But . . . I miss you, too. I miss you so much. And I miss Micah and Cody and Saturday morning pancakes and Friday night movies. I miss them. I miss feeling like I’m part of a family. But mostly, I miss you.”

  He grinned at her then. “Are we crazy?”

  “Probably,” she said.

  “Are you scared?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Me too.”

  They sat for a minute, holding hands and watching each other. Then Bob leaned forward, tilted her chin up, and kissed her.

  Bryn felt her breath catch in her chest. She leaned into him and savored his smell, his taste, his touch.

  Then the baby kicked.

  “Wow!” She sat up straight, her eyes wide.

  “What’s wron
g?” He watched her closely. “Is it too much? I’m sorry. We can take things slow if you want.”

  “No!” She laughed and guided his hand to her stomach. “Do you feel it?”

  He paused, focusing intently on her hand on his. Then he laughed.

  “The baby kicked! You’ve felt it before, right?” He left his hand on her stomach.

  “Yeah, but never a real kick like that.”

  “So maybe it’s a sign.” Bob kissed her forehead. “Maybe the baby is giving us a blessing.”

  “Or maybe Baby doesn’t like what I had for lunch.”

  They both laughed then.

  “So, what do we do now?” Bryn asked softly, leaning against his shoulder.

  “Now . . . I don’t know. Maybe we go on a date?”

  She laughed. “That sounds nice. Maybe we can take the boys to see Alvin and the Chipmunks.”

  “Or maybe,” he said, kissing her cheek, “we can go out like real grown-ups and see a movie with real people in it. And have dinner someplace besides Pizza Hut.”

  “That sounds lovely.”

  “Friday night?”

  “Don’t you have the boys then?”

  “I can find a sitter.”

  “Okay,” she said, smiling. “Friday night.”

  51

  “Are you and Bob going out on Valentine’s Day?”

  Corrie poured coffee into a mug and handed it to Bryn.

  “I think so,” Bryn said. “We’re going to try that new Thai restaurant on Fourth Street.”

  “That sounds nice.” Corrie poured a second cup of coffee and sat down at the table.

  “What are you going to do that night?” Bryn watched as Corrie sipped her coffee.

  “Nothing, I guess.”

  “I’m sorry, hon. You can go to dinner with us.”

  “That would be very romantic.” Corrie laughed. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

  “I know it’s going to be a hard day.”

  Corrie nodded. February 14 was her wedding anniversary. Every year, Mark had planned a special evening for Valentine’s Day. Last year they had flown to Bermuda for the whole week.

  “I can watch the boys while you go out,” she said.

  “I think they’re going to Wendy’s parents’,” Bryn said. “But I’ll ask Bob.”

  They drank their coffee in silence. Then Bryn said, “We don’t have to go out that night. We can stay in and cook something together.”