He leaned his head against her and breathed in deeply.
“Do you know when I fell in love with you?” he finally asked.
Corrie didn’t answer. She just stared at Maya’s small figure in the bed, willing her to get better, to be strong.
“Corrie-Andy!” Daniel’s voice broke her concentration. “Do you know when I fell in love with you?”
“Daniel,” she said, touching his hair, “it doesn’t matter.”
“Yes,” he said, “it matters. It matters because it’s about who you are, who you’ve always been. And you need to hear this.”
He stood and began pacing the hospital room.
“I remember the time we first met,” he said. “First day of school, in the cafeteria, with Bryn.”
She stared up at him, surprised he’d remembered.
“I thought you were cute.”
She laughed, not a pretty laugh.
“You wanted to score.” Her voice was harsh, surprising even her.
“I thought you were cute, but not for me.” He sat down on the floor beside her, holding her eyes.
“I didn’t want to get involved with anyone, let alone a small-town girl from Indiana. I wanted to travel, see the world, save the world.”
“You made that perfectly clear,” Corrie said.
“But then you showed up at the food pantry,” Daniel said. “And I saw you weren’t just a cute little girl. You’d felt poverty. You knew poverty.”
Corrie pushed him away. “You felt sorry for me.”
“No!”
His voice was so loud it startled them both.
“No,” he repeated more quietly. “I envied you.”
“Oh, screw you!” Corrie stood, pushing him away again. “There is nothing to be jealous of about being poor! You have no idea, Daniel! God!”
She walked around the bed and stopped, lowering her voice.
“You think it’s romantic, somehow, being poor.” She spat the words at him. “You think it makes people better somehow, more noble. But you’re wrong!”
“Corrie, wait . . .”
“No! You’re just wrong, damn it! Being poor isn’t noble or romantic or . . . or anything. Being poor sucks! It means wearing clothes your classmates threw away, while they whisper about you behind your back. It means not knowing if there will be dinner on the table that night, and if there is, it’s beans and bread or soup or plain rice. It means eating the nasty free lunch at school, and everyone knowing. It’s humiliating and . . . and it sucks!”
She sat down in again.
“Look,” she said, “I appreciate that you brought me here, Daniel. I do. And I will pay you back for the airplane tickets. But you need to go.”
She stopped suddenly, staring at her sister, who had begun moaning softly.
“Get the nurse!”
But Daniel was already out the door, running to the nurses’ station. In an instant he was back with a nurse.
“Sounds like she’s waking up,” the nurse said. She checked the monitors tracking Maya’s heartbeat. “That’s a good thing.” She smiled at Corrie.
Maya’s eyes fluttered open briefly and then closed again.
“Maya?” Corrie touched her sister’s cheek, held her hand. “Maya, honey? Are you awake?”
“It might take her a while,” the nurse said. “She’s been heavily sedated.”
“Should we do anything?” Daniel asked.
“Just being here helps,” the nurse said. “Even if you think she’s asleep, she knows you’re here.”
Corrie sat on the edge of the bed stroking Maya’s cheek and crooning to her: “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray.”
Maya’s eyes opened again and rested briefly on Corrie’s face.
“Corrie?” she whispered.
“I’m here, honey. I’m here, and you’re okay. You’re going to be okay. I’ll take care of you.”
At midnight, Daniel left to find a hotel room close by. Corrie sat all night by her sister’s bed, talking to her, singing the songs she’d sung when Maya was small, holding her hand, and praying.
55
The phone woke Corrie from an uneasy sleep. She still sat in the chair by Maya’s bed, her neck cramped and sore. She pulled her phone from her purse and answered. “Hello?”
“Coriander, don’t hang up!”
“What do you want, Mom?”
“Are you with Maya? Is she all right?”
Corrie looked down at her sister, her chest rising and falling steadily, the monitors beeping regularly.
“She’s going to be all right. She woke up for a minute, but she’s sleeping now. The nurse says she’s stable.”
“I need to come out there. You were supposed to take me with you!”
Corrie rose and walked to the window, staring out at the sky just starting to lighten to a steel gray.
“No, Mom,” she said, “you need to stay put. I’ll take care of Maya.”
“But I’m her mother. . . .”
“Mom, do you know why Maya is here? Because some guy decided to drink and drive. Apparently, he already had three DUIs. He was driving without a license and without insurance. He’s a career alcoholic, just like you.”
“That’s not fair!” Patrice was yelling now. “I am not an alcoholic. Do I drink? Yes, I do. Maybe more than I should. But I’m not—”
“Yes, Mom, you are. You’re an alcoholic.”
“You don’t understand.” Patrice’s voice instantly changed. She was in martyr mode now. “You have no idea what it’s like. . . .”
“Really, Mother? I have no idea what it’s like to be suddenly alone with a child? To be overwhelmed and scared and responsible for another life? You honestly think I don’t understand?”
“Oh, Coriander.” Patrice’s voice broke. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t think . . .”
“You never do.”
“I need to be there,” Patrice said. “I need you to buy me a ticket.”
“No, Mom.” Corrie spoke softly but firmly. “What you need is to quit drinking. What you need is to act like a mother instead of a child. I’m telling you this, Mom, and I absolutely mean it. Unless you get sober, you will never be a part of my life again. Or of Maya’s.”
“But—”
“No, seriously! I will not let you expose my baby to your drunk, stupid, selfish behavior. And I won’t let you drag Maya down, either.”
Corrie ended the call, her hands shaking.
“Good for you.”
Corrie turned to see Daniel standing in the doorway, smiling. She tried to smile back, but could only manage a small grimace.
“You look like hell,” Daniel said. He held a cup of coffee out to her.
“Well thanks so much,” she said, taking the cup.
“I mean it. You need to get some sleep.”
Corrie shook her head. “I need to be here when she wakes up again.”
“No, you really need some sleep. You’re exhausted. It’s not good for you or for the baby.”
Corrie sank into the chair she’d occupied all night.
“I’m okay.”
Daniel took her hands and pulled her back up.
“Here.” He put a card into her hand. “This is the address for the hotel. I’ve got a room. You go downstairs, get a taxi, go to the hotel, and get some sleep.”
“But . . .”
“But nothing.” His voice was firm. “Here’s the key. It’s room 824. I’ll call you the instant anything changes.”
Corrie stood uncertainly, wanting to protest. But her legs could barely hold her weight. Her head throbbed. And then the baby kicked.
“Okay,” she said, taking the key. “Just for an hour.”
“Good girl.” Daniel kissed her forehead. “Do you think you can find your way to the lobby?”
She nodded. He handed her another sheet of paper. “I made you a map.”
She smiled at him, let him wrap her in a tight hug.
; “Thank you, Daniel.”
She stumbled through the maze of hallways, following the map he’d made, silently thanking God that she wasn’t there alone.
The taxi deposited her in front of a nondescript hotel. She fumbled with the door key before the door finally swung open to reveal an equally nondescript room. But Corrie didn’t notice the faded wallpaper and worn-out carpeting. She only saw the bed, covers neatly turned down. She didn’t bother getting undressed. She dropped onto the bed, pulled the covers over her head, and fell into a deep, heavy sleep.
When she woke up, sunlight was streaming in through the window. She stared around herself, unsure at first where she was. Then she sat up, glanced at the clock, and cursed softly. It was almost noon.
She reached for her phone and dialed Daniel’s number.
“Hey,” he said. “Feeling better?”
“How is she?”
“She’s okay, Corrie. She’s opened her eyes a couple times and I think she smiled at me once. But mostly she’s just been sleeping.”
“I can’t believe I slept this long. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Take your time.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Take a shower, have something to eat. Maya’s not going anywhere, and neither am I.”
She hung up and reached for her jacket, then caught sight of herself in the mirror. She did look like hell.
She dropped her jacket and headed to the tiny bathroom for a long, tepid shower.
When the cab dropped her at the hospital, Corrie pulled the map Daniel had drawn from her purse, retracing her steps from the night before.
Outside Maya’s room, she stopped and listened intently. That was Maya’s voice!
“Hey!” She walked into the room and stopped, staring at her sister’s face, now with more color and definitely awake. She sank gratefully into the chair by the bed.
“Hey, yourself.” Maya smiled at her. “Look at you, all pregnant and cute.”
Corrie kissed Maya’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a train.”
“Can I do anything? Should I call the nurse?”
Corrie started to rise, but Maya pulled her back down.
“I’m okay,” she said softly. “Sore and pretty pissed that I’m going to miss so much school. But I’m all right. How are you?” She watched Corrie’s face carefully.
“I’m good,” Corrie said, her cheeks warming. “I’m fine, the baby’s fine, everything is fine.”
“Yeah, right.” Maya smiled at her. “You’re in the middle of a divorce, Mom is treating you like crap, you had to move out of your house . . . but you’re just fine.”
“Hey.” Daniel’s voice startled Corrie. She’d forgotten he was there.
“I’m going to get some coffee. Do you want anything?”
“No,” she said. “Thank you, though.”
Corrie watched him leave, then turned back to Maya, who was studying her face.
“What?” Corrie said.
“So . . . Daniel?”
“No,” Corrie said. “Not Daniel. I mean, yes, he’s the baby’s father. And yes, he wants to be involved in her life. But it’s not what you’re thinking. I slept with him one time, and it was a mistake.”
Maya arched her eyebrows, then winced. “Ugh,” she said. “That hurt.”
“Have you talked to the doctor?” Corrie asked, glancing at the monitors still chirping away behind the bed.
“She left right before you got here,” Maya said. “I’m gonna have to be here a few days, but then I can go home. I don’t know how I’m going to get to classes with this.” She pointed to her broken leg.
“Maybe you should take the semester off. Give yourself time to heal.”
Maya shook her head. “This is my last semester,” she said. “I only have three more months and classes are done. I can’t just quit.”
“I didn’t say quit. I said take one semester off. Come home and let me take care of you.”
“No.” Maya let her head fall back onto the pillow. “I’m not coming back to Middlebrook, and you have enough on your plate without taking care of me.”
“You can’t stay out here by yourself,” Corrie said. “You’re going to need someone to help you until you get back on your feet.”
“I’ve got friends. And I have Bryan.” She smiled up at her sister.
“So . . . Bryan?” Corrie narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t go all big sister on me.” Maya laughed. “Bryan is great. He’ll be here in a bit. You’ll get to meet him.”
By the time Daniel returned, they had agreed. Corrie would stay a few days. She could sleep at Maya’s student apartment and use the bus to get back and forth. Then she would go back to Indiana, and entrust Maya’s care to Bryan and various friends. Corrie wasn’t completely happy with the arrangement, but Maya would not take no for an answer.
“And you,” Maya said, looking at Daniel in the doorway, “you need to get back to Los Angeles before tomorrow. You have that meeting you have to be there for.”
“I can reschedule it,” he said.
“No, you need to go home. I’ll be fine.” Maya nodded at him, then winced again.
“Only if you’re sure,” he said.
“I’m sure.”
The nurse came in, pushing a tray of instruments.
“I need to take some blood,” she said. “And then let’s get you cleaned up.”
“We should go,” Daniel said.
“No, you go. I’ll stay.” Corrie stood by the bed, watching the nurse.
“Go,” Maya said. “I don’t need you to be here for my bath!”
Corrie kissed her sister’s cheek and promised she’d be back in an hour. Then she and Daniel walked to the cafeteria and bought sandwiches and sodas.
“Thank you,” she said, as they sat down at a table. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you here.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled at her as he unwrapped his sandwich. “I’m just glad you let me come.”
“Are you going home today?”
“I guess so.” He took a bite and chewed slowly. “But I’m only an hour away if you need me. I mean it, Corrie! They have regular flights all day long between L.A. and San Francisco. You call me for anything, and I will be here.”
“Thanks, Daniel. I’ll be okay.”
“I know you will, Corrie-Andy.”
Corrie’s phone rang. She checked caller ID and turned off the phone.
“Patrice?”
“Yes. It’s the fourth time she’s called today.”
“You should probably tell her that Maya’s okay.”
“I will.” She sighed. “I just don’t want to talk to her right now. But I probably should call Bryn! I forgot to last night.”
“I called,” he said. “When I left last night I called and talked to Bob. But you should call Bryn if you want to.”
She leaned back in her chair and smiled. “You really have been a godsend the last couple days.”
“Like I said, you can nominate me for sainthood anytime.” He grinned at her and took another bite of his sandwich.
56
Corrie spent the next few days shuttling between Maya’s studio apartment and the hospital. She stocked Maya’s pantry, washed all the bedding, vacuumed the floors, and cleaned the bathroom. When Maya was finally allowed to come home, lying in the backseat of Bryan’s ancient Volvo, she gazed around the small apartment and stared reproachfully at her sister.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
“I guess not.”
“Thanks, Sis. You’re the best.”
That night, Corrie half slept on the couch, mindful of every small noise coming from the bed at the end of the room. But Maya slept soundly, snoring softly throughout the night.
The next morning, Corrie stood with her suitcase, surveying the schedule Bryan had made with several of Maya’s friends. Someone would be in the apartment with her around the clock. Meals wou
ld be brought in. Chores would be done. Maya was in good hands.
“Are you sure you want me to go? I can stay a few more days.”
“I’m fine, Corrie. You need to go home. You can’t take forever off of work.”
“I’ll miss you.” Corrie leaned over the bed, where Maya rested on several pillows, her leg still suspended in a sling.
“I’ll miss you more.” Maya smiled at her. “You really are the best sister in the world.”
“Don’t forget, Daniel said to call him anytime. He’s only an hour away.”
“I’ve got his number on speed dial.”
They hugged for a long minute. Then Corrie took her bag, smiled at Bryan, and turned to go.
“Corrie?”
Corrie turned back toward her sister.
“Daniel really does love you.”
Corrie smiled and shook her head. “I’ll call you when I get home.”
Bryn was at the airport, checking email. Beside her, Cody sat watching impatiently for Corrie.
“There she is! Hi, Corrie!” He ran to her, wrapping his small arms around her legs.
“Hi, Cody!” Corrie knelt down to hug him. “Thanks for picking me up.”
“Bryn said we can get ice cream!” Cody grinned at her.
“That sounds great.” Corrie rose and hugged Bryn.
“God, look at you!” She stepped back to survey her friend. “You’re huge!”
In reality, Bryn was still tiny. She hadn’t gained weight anywhere but her belly, which bulged as if she carried a soccer ball under her shirt.
“Thanks a lot!” She smiled at Corrie. “I’ve gained two pounds since you left. I think that calls for ice cream, don’t you?”
“Sure,” Corrie said. “Where’s Micah?” She looked around the terminal.
“He’s at Matt’s,” Bryn said.
“He said he didn’t want ice cream.” Cody shook his head and rolled his eyes in disbelief.
“More likely, he didn’t want to spend time with me,” Bryn said quietly.
“Everything okay?” Corrie asked.
“Yeah,” Bryn said. “I think he’s just processing stuff.”
The Weight of Small Things Page 30
