The Weight of Small Things

by Wood Emmons, Sherri

  Corrie sat a long moment in silence, then said softly, “You haven’t even asked about the baby.”

  “What? I’m sorry. I . . . How’s the baby?”

  “She’s tiny. She came almost eight weeks early. She’s in the intensive care unit with a respirator and a feeding tube. I only got to hold her for the first time today.”

  “But she’ll be okay, right? I mean, lots of babies are born early. The doctors can do all kinds of things now, right?”

  “She’s getting stronger every day.”

  “Good, I’m glad.”

  “Her name is Emmaline.”

  “That’s pretty.”

  “She is my life. From the first time I felt her move, she has been my life. She is everything in the world. And you didn’t even ask about her.”

  “God, Corrie! I’m sorry. I’m trying, but it’s all so new for me.”

  “Mark.” Corrie’s voice was soft, gentle. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry you’re sad. I’m so sorry everything is a mess. But I’m not sorry about Emmaline. I’m not sorry I have her. I’m not sorry that she’s my daughter. And . . .”

  She took a deep breath and said out loud what she’d known since Emmaline’s birth. “And I’m not sorry that Daniel is her father.”

  Mark let go of her hands, his cheeks a dull red.

  “So you guys are . . . together?”

  Corrie shook her head. “No. I mean, I don’t know. He has a whole life in California. And I’m not leaving Middlebrook. So probably not. But . . . but he’s Emmy’s father, and he loves her so much, and he’s been nothing but good since he found out about her. And I’m really grateful that he’s been here.”

  “And I haven’t been.”

  “No, you haven’t been. I understand why you haven’t been. I hurt you, I cheated on you. You had every right to be mad. I get that.”

  “But now . . .”

  “Now,” she said firmly, “I have a daughter and great friends and a life I’m happy with. And . . . and I’m sorry, but that life is without you. At first that was just so hard, but now, well, now I’ve gotten used to it. It doesn’t hurt anymore. I don’t think we can go back to before. I don’t think I would want to, even if we could. We can only move forward, Mark.”

  “But we could go forward together.”

  “No,” she said softly. “We can’t.”

  “I . . . I guess I should go then.”

  He rose and walked to the front door.

  “I hope you’re happy, Corrie.”

  “I hope you’re happy, too, Mark.”

  The door closed behind him and Corrie sat for a long time, staring at the fireplace. And then she called Daniel.

  65

  “Hey, what’s up?” Daniel sat on the couch beside her. “Are you feeling all right? How is Emmaline?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, smiling at him. “I assume Emmy is fine. I haven’t heard from the hospital since we left.”

  “Good.” He let out an explosive sigh and visibly relaxed.

  “So . . . what’s up? You said you needed to talk.”

  “Mark came by earlier.”

  Corrie could see his shoulders tense. “What did he want?” “The divorce was finalized today. He just . . . he wanted to talk about it.”

  “Are you okay?” Daniel watched her closely.

  “Actually, yes. I am okay. Mark’s not, and I hate that. But I am fine.”

  “Don’t tell me he came over here to tell you he wants you back!”

  “Yeah, he did.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Daniel stood abruptly and paced the same path Mark had paced earlier.

  “So, now what? You move back in with him? He raises my daughter? God, Corrie, that’s not fair!”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Corrie rose and stood in his path, took his hands.

  “I told him that I’ve moved on. And I have.”

  He stared at her.

  “I hate that he’s hurt,” Corrie said. “But I can’t go back to him. I don’t want to. I’m ready to move forward, to live my life with my daughter. And . . .”

  “And?”

  “I’m thinking maybe there’s a place in my life for you.”

  He stared at her and then grinned.

  “Seriously? Are you serious? God, Corrie! That’s . . . that’s amazing!”

  She smiled at him. “It kind of is.”

  He kissed her then, a long, slow, deliberate kiss. And it felt right, kissing him. It felt absolutely right.

  Abruptly, he pulled back, stared into her face, and began talking fast.

  “Corrie-Andy, it will be so great, I promise you! You’re going to love Pasadena! It’s close to the mountains and the beach and the desert. We can take Emmy to the beach every weekend, if you want! There’s live theater, Corrie. Live music. And—”

  “Daniel.” Her voice stopped him cold.

  “I’m not moving to California.”

  “But you said . . .”

  “I said there’s a place for you in my life. And my life is here.”

  His grin faded.

  “I can’t leave the center,” he said. “That’s my whole world.”

  “Or, Emmaline and I can be your world. I didn’t ask you before, I didn’t even tell you when I got pregnant all those years ago, because I couldn’t stand the idea of trapping you in a life you didn’t want. But now . . .

  “Now, Daniel, we have a child, we have Emmy. I don’t want to raise her in California, with all that smog and all that crime and all those people. This is my life. This is my world. This is where I am raising our daughter. You have to decide if you want to be part of that.”

  “That’s not fair,” he said, running his hand through his hair.

  “No,” she said. “It’s not fair. Nothing about this is fair. But it is what it is. If you want to try and be together, if you want to help me raise our daughter, then you have to choose.”

  He stared at her for a long minute, then said very softly, “I’m sorry, Corrie. I can’t just leave the center. I can’t just walk away.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  “So . . . what does that mean?”

  “It means, maybe you should go back to the hotel.”

  “Corrie, please . . .”

  “Go, Daniel. I’ll see you tomorrow at the hospital.”

  He stood a moment, then gathered his keys and jacket and left.

  Corrie sank into the couch and laid her head on the armrest. And then she cried.

  66

  Emmaline grew stronger and chubbier every day. Within a week, she was breathing on her own. The next week, they removed the feeding tube and Corrie fed her a bottle for the first time, while Daniel filmed everything.

  Finally, three weeks after her birth, Corrie strapped her daughter into her car seat, and Daniel drove them home.

  “Slow down!” Corrie said, glancing rapidly from the road ahead to the baby sleeping in the backseat. “It’s not a race!”

  “I’m going the speed limit,” Daniel protested. “Don’t worry.”

  “How can I not worry? She’s still so small.”

  “The doctor wouldn’t let us bring her home if he thought she was too small.”

  He parked in front of the house, behind the construction machinery busily tearing down what was left of the house behind theirs. Then Corrie carefully unbuckled the baby from the car seat and carried Emmaline into the house. They were home.

  Inside, Bryn, Bob, and the boys waited. The living room was filled with pink balloons and flowers. A huge teddy bear from Maya sat on the hearth. But all Corrie saw was her baby, safe in her arms, safe in their own house.

  She sat on the couch, cradling Emmaline. Micah sat on one side of her, Cody on the other, both cautiously touching the tiny girl’s face.

  “So what do you think?” Corrie asked, smiling at the boys.

  “She’s really small,” Micah said.

  “And she’s bald!” Cody chimed in.

  Eve
ryone laughed.

  Daniel made several trips back and forth from the car, shuttling in the car seat, diapers, and bags.

  Bryn had made chicken and noodles. Bob brought salad and a bottle of wine.

  “You can have a glass now,” he said, grinning at Corrie.

  They ate, while Daniel held the baby as she sucked contentedly on his finger. Then Corrie took the baby so Daniel could eat. Her eyes pricked with tears, thinking how right it felt for him to be there, how much it felt like they were a family. Tomorrow, Daniel would fly back to California.

  “Bryn?” Bob’s voice broke into Corrie’s reverie. “What’s wrong?”

  Bryn leaned against the mantle, one hand on her stomach. She raised her eyes to his and smiled. “I think I’m in labor.”

  “Oh my God! Sit down. Put your feet up. Do you have a bag packed? We need to get to the hospital.” Bob’s voice rose with each word.

  “I’m fine,” Bryn assured him. “The doctor said not to come until the pains are five minutes apart.”

  “How far apart are they?” Bob put his hand under her elbow and led her to the rocking chair.

  “The last two were eight minutes.”

  “That’s close enough. We’re going.”

  “Where are we going?” Cody asked, emerging from the kitchen with a slice of bread.

  “I’m taking Bryn to the hospital,” Bob said. “You and Micah are going to stay here.”

  “That’s not fair!” Micah said. “We want to go, too!”

  “Not this time, buddy.” Bob was halfway up the stairs. “Bryn, where’s your bag?”

  Bryn smiled at Corrie. “You’d think this was his first baby.”

  “Bryn?” Micah stood before her, eyes wide.

  “Yes, honey?”

  “Is it going to be okay?”

  “Yes, Micah.” Bryn wrapped him in a hug, then opened her arm to draw Cody in. “It’s going to be perfect!”

  Bob ran down the stairs carrying an overnight bag. “Is this everything?”

  “Yes, honey. That’s everything.”

  “Okay, let’s go!”

  Bob scooped his sons into a hug, then took Bryn’s hands to pull her from the chair.

  “Call us when you know anything!” Corrie held the door open for them, hugging Bryn tightly as they left.

  “Probably they’ll just send us home,” Bryn said, laughing.

  “I love you!” Corrie called after her as Bryn and Bob walked down the steps.

  “I love you back!”

  “You all right?” Bob held her hand tightly as an attendant wheeled Bryn to maternity—the same attendant who’d wheeled her up when Corrie was in labor.

  She nodded, clenching her teeth as a contraction tightened her stomach.

  “That was a strong one,” she said as the contraction eased. “Wow!”

  “Breathe, honey. Just breathe.”

  Four hours later, the doctor arrived. Bryn’s contractions came one after the other, while Bob puffed in her face, urging her to breathe through them.

  “I can’t,” she whimpered. “I can’t do this.”

  “Bryn Elaine Baxter!” Bob’s voice startled her. “You are the strongest woman I know. If anyone can do this, you can.”

  He mopped her forehead and kept his eyes trained on the monitor. “Here comes another one. Okay! Breathe with me!” He began puffing away while Bryn tried to follow him.

  “All right, Bryn.” Dr. Reynolds sat down on a stool between her legs. “This is it. Your baby is ready to be born. The next time you feel a contraction, I want you to bear down and push. Are you ready?”

  “Oh my God, Bob. Have you ever seen anything so incredible in all your life?”

  Bryn held her daughter to her breast, watching in sheer wonder as the baby searched for and then found her nipple.

  “She’s amazing.” Bob sat on the edge of the bed, smiling like a lunatic.

  “She is, isn’t she?”

  “So is her mom.” Bob kissed her forehead.

  “You did it,” he said softly. “You did it.”

  “Hello!” A nurse walked into the room and checked the identical plastic bracelets that Bryn and the baby wore. “I just need to fill out the birth certificate.”

  She smiled at Bryn, touched the baby’s head. “She’s nursing well.”

  “She’s incredible,” Bryn repeated.

  “I just need to ask a couple things. Mother’s name—your official name, the one on your Social Security card.”

  “Bryn Elaine Baxter.”

  The nurse asked about the spelling, then wrote on the form.

  “Father’s name?”

  “Bob Carter. That is, I mean, Robert Carter. Robert Ian Carter.”

  Bob spoke firmly, clearly. Bryn stared at him, felt her eyes filling with tears.

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Really.” Bob kissed her forehead again. “I love you, Bryn. And I love this baby. She’s mine. She’s ours.”

  The nurse paused an instant, then smiled and wrote on the paper again.

  “Baby’s name?”

  Bob looked at Bryn and raised his eyebrows.

  “Poplar,” Bryn said. “Poplar Margot Carter.”

  She spelled the name for the nurse.

  “I’ve never heard the name Poplar before.” The nurse smiled at them. “It’s pretty.”

  “We’ll call her Poppy.” Bryn kissed the baby’s head. “Like the flower.”

  “Poppy,” Bob repeated. “I love that. Welcome to the world, Poppy Margot.”

  “Can we see her?” Micah stood in the doorway with Cody, Corrie, and Daniel behind them.

  “Sure,” Bryn said. “Come in.”

  Cody sat on Bob’s lap, watching the baby nurse. “Why is she biting you?” he asked.

  “She’s not biting,” Bryn said, smiling. “My body is making milk for her. She’s just having her first meal.”

  Micah stood by the bed, studiously avoiding looking at Bryn’s breast.

  “Micah?” Bryn touched his cheek. “It’s okay, honey. I’m just feeding the baby.”

  His cheeks reddened and he did not look at her, but he smiled.

  “Wow.” Corrie’s voice was soft. “I’m really sorry I didn’t get to nurse Emmy.”

  Daniel wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulders. “Emmaline is doing just fine.”

  “I know.” She swiped her hand across her eyes. “I’m glad you get to do it right, Bryn.”

  “Where is Emmaline?” Bryn glanced around, as if the baby might be hiding somewhere in the room.

  “She’s at Sarah’s. We dropped her off on the way.” Corrie smiled again, then abruptly pulled her phone from her purse. “I’m just going to call and make sure she’s okay.”

  She walked from the room.

  Bryn kissed the baby’s head again, then looked from Micah to Cody.

  “Do you want to know her name?”

  “Yeah!” Cody yelled.

  “It’s Poppy.”

  “Poppy?” Micah sounded confused. “Is that a real name?”

  “It is now,” Bob said. “Her full name is Poplar Margot.”

  “That’s beautiful,” Daniel said, smiling at Corrie as she walked back into the room. “Did you hear the name? It’s Poplar Margot.”

  Corrie stood a second, phone still in her hand.

  “That’s lovely, Bryn.”

  “Your mom would be proud,” Bryn said, smiling at her.

  “Yes, that’s a name right up my mom’s alley.”

  “Everything okay with Emmy?” Daniel asked, taking Corrie’s hand.

  “Everything’s fine.” Corrie leaned into him, willing herself not to cry.

  Daniel would leave tomorrow.

  67

  Six weeks later, Corrie stood in Bob’s backyard, holding Emmaline, gazing around at the flowers, tables, candles, and balloons.

  “Look, Aunt Corrie!” Cody carried a huge arrangement of roses to the makeshift altar. “I carried it all by myself!”<
br />
  “Good job, Cody!”

  “Well, you couldn’t pick it up by yourself.” Micah frowned, then laughed. “But you did okay carrying it.” He shoved his little brother and grinned at Corrie.

  “Hey, guys!” Bob called from the back porch. “Come in here and help me with the cake!”

  The boys ran into the house. Corrie sank gratefully into a chair, gazing happily around her. She was so happy for Bryn. So happy for Bob. So glad of a small diversion.

  She’d be alone now, just her and Emmaline. Bryn would move in here with Bob and Poppy and the boys, and start her life all over again. And Corrie . . . well, Corrie would start her life for real as a single mother.

  Daniel called every morning. Corrie held the phone to Emmy’s ear, so she would at least hear her father’s voice. She swore that Emmy kicked her feet extra hard when she heard Daniel on the phone.

  She kissed Emmy’s forehead, still amazed that her daughter was here and fine and growing so fast. Emmaline gazed up at her with wide eyes.

  “Corrie!” Bryn called from the porch. “Can you help me with this stupid bow?” She held a sash in the air. “Where the hell is my mother?”

  Corrie tied Bryn’s sash, while Micah cradled Emmaline under Bob’s watchful eye.

  “Oh my God!” Corrie breathed. “Bryn, you’re beautiful!”

  Bryn stood in the guest room of Bob’s house, the room she’d lived in for months, the room that would now be Poppy’s. The bed she’d slept in was gone, replaced by the crib her mother had bought. The walls were a soft yellow, with a wallpaper border of tiny ducks.

  “I’m fat!” Bryn gazed at her reflection in the mirror, hand on her still slightly rounded stomach.

  “You just had a baby,” Corrie said, wrapping her arms around her friend. “And . . . you’re beautiful. A beautiful, beautiful bride.”

  “I’m here!” Bryn’s mother bustled into the room, carrying several large shopping bags. Then she stopped and simply stared at Bryn.

  “Honey, oh honey!” She wrapped Bryn in a long hug. “You look wonderful!”

  Corrie walked back to the yard, carrying Emmy. She was glad Bryn’s mother had arrived, but now she felt . . . useless.