The Weight of Small Things

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The Weight of Small Things Page 15

by Wood Emmons, Sherri


  “Hey, Daniel! What are you doing back in Middlebrook?” Bob’s voice carried into the kitchen.

  “I have a few things I need to get sorted out.” Daniel’s voice was soft. Bryn had to strain to hear him.

  “Micah! Take your backpack to your room,” Bob called.

  Bryn stepped from the kitchen and smiled as the little boy ran into the room, skidding to a stop just short of the coffee table. He grinned at Bryn, picked up his bag, and ran back down the hall, sliding in his stocking feet on the wooden floor.

  “So.” Bob sat down across from Daniel. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I just have a few things I need to figure out,” Daniel repeated.

  “I told him he can’t stay here,” Bryn said. “No room.”

  Daniel looked from her to Bob.

  “You can sleep on the couch if you want,” Bob said.

  “Great, thanks!”

  Bob turned to Bryn. “How are you feeling today?”

  “I was a hell of a lot better before he showed up!” Bryn returned to the kitchen and put a tray of biscuits into the oven. “Dinner will be ready in ten.”

  “So,” she heard Daniel ask, “is she staying permanently?”

  “No,” Bob said, “just till she finds a place.”

  “Hey, Bryn!” Cody ran into the kitchen. “Look what I made today!”

  Bryn took the picture the child held out to her.

  “Cool!” she said, smiling. “Who’s that?”

  “It’s my family,” Cody said. “That’s me and that’s Micah. And that’s Mommy and Luke. And that’s you and Daddy.”

  Bryn felt a small catch in her throat.

  “That’s beautiful, Cody.” She swept him into a hug. “That’s really just . . . beautiful.”

  Looking up, she saw Bob standing in the doorway to the kitchen, frowning slightly.

  “Look, Daddy!” Cody held the picture up. “That’s all of us.”

  “Good job, buddy.” Bob smiled at his son. “Why don’t you wash your hands for dinner.”

  “Are you gonna put it on the fridge?” Cody asked, holding the picture toward Bob.

  “Sure,” Bob said, taking the paper from him. “Of course I’m putting it on the fridge. We’ll put it right here.”

  Cody ran toward the bathroom as Bob taped the picture to the refrigerator, then stood back to survey it. Bryn watched him carefully.

  “I think it’s good, how he’s adjusting,” she said softly.

  Bob sighed and ran his hand through his graying hair.

  “I hope so,” he said. “I hope so.”

  Daniel didn’t talk much at dinner. Bob seemed quiet, too. But the boys kept up a running dialogue about Legos and Halloween costumes and Spider-Man.

  After dinner, Bryn retreated to her room while Bob and Daniel cleaned the kitchen and the boys watched a movie. She didn’t want to watch Daniel saunter through the house as if he owned it. When the living room quieted and the boys had gone to bed, she opened the door to her room and tiptoed into the hallway, listening carefully.

  “So seriously, man, what are you doing back in Middlebrook?”

  “Like I said,” Daniel replied, “I have a few things—”

  “Yeah, you said that,” Bob interrupted him. “What things?”

  “Just some things. What are you drinking?”

  “Rum and Coke,” Bob said. “You want one?”

  “Sure.”

  Bryn shifted from one bare foot to the other, peering around the corner to see Daniel in the same place on the couch. Bob returned with another glass and handed it to his friend.

  “Thanks.” Daniel took a long drink and leaned back.

  Bob sat down opposite him, watching.

  “So,” Bob said eventually, “I know it’s none of my business, but those things you need to figure out . . . is one of them Corrie?”

  Bryn held her breath.

  Finally, Daniel sighed deeply.

  “I still love her,” he said, his voice soft. “And I think she still loves me, too.”

  “She’s married.” Bob’s voice was firm. He leaned forward, hands on his knees. “She’s married,” he repeated.

  “I know,” Daniel said. “But I think—”

  “I don’t care what you think!” Bob’s voice rose, startling Bryn and Daniel both.

  “You had your chance with Corrie ten years ago, and you bailed on her. She’s married now, and she’s happy!”

  “Is she?”

  “Yes, Daniel, she is. She’s been going through a hard time with the infertility and stuff, but she and Mark are solid.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Bob rose and began pacing the living room. Bryn pulled back so he wouldn’t see her standing in the hall.

  “Look, man, Corrie is married.” Bob’s voice was soft but steady. “That means something, Daniel. Just because you saw her and it reminded you of the old days, that doesn’t mean you get to come back here and mess with her head.”

  “I’m not trying to mess with her head.” Daniel’s voice rose. “I love her. I never stopped loving her. And I think she feels the same way.”

  “I don’t think so,” Bob said, shaking his head. “She’s good with Mark. They’re happy.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing!” Bob’s voice rose again, shaking now. “Corrie is married. And you need to stay the hell away from her!”

  Bryn shrank against the wall. Of course Bob would feel that way, given the situation he faced with Wendy.

  “Marriage doesn’t have to be a life sentence.” Daniel’s voice was flat.

  Bob said nothing for a long minute. When he spoke again, it was in a voice Bryn had never heard from him before, gravelly and harsh.

  “You can stay for the night. But tomorrow, you need to go back to California.”

  “But I—”

  “We go way back, Daniel,” Bob continued. “You’re my friend. But if you’re here to wreck Corrie’s marriage, then you’d better find someplace else to stay.”

  With that, he stalked into the hallway, nearly bumping into Bryn before he saw her. Taking her hand, he dragged her down the hallway into the guest room and closed the door behind them.

  “Did they sleep together?” His voice was soft but firm.

  Bryn started to lie, to deny it. Then she looked into his eyes and simply nodded.

  Bob sank onto the bed and buried his face in his hands.

  “Corrie is really sick about it,” Bryn whispered, taking one of his hands in hers. “She knows she messed up, and she just wants to forget about it.”

  “God,” Bob groaned. “What a mess.”

  They sat side by side on the bed, holding hands.

  “Try not to hate her, okay?” Bryn said, squeezing his hand.

  “I don’t hate Corrie. I could never hate Corrie. I’m just really sorry she slept with Daniel.”

  “Me too,” Bryn agreed.

  “Has she told Mark?”

  “No!”

  Bob looked up in surprise.

  “I mean, she was going to, but I told her not to.”

  Bob said nothing.

  “She wanted to,” Bryn said. “She was going to. But I told her it would only hurt him. And it would wreck their marriage. And . . . and she’s not Wendy, Bob. She’s not going to leave Mark for Daniel or for anyone. You know Corrie. She always does the right thing. So she messed up, big-time. But she shouldn’t wreck her whole life, and Mark’s whole life, because of one mistake. Right?”

  Bob sighed heavily. “I guess not.”

  “Don’t tell her you know, okay? She’d die if she thought you knew.”

  Bob rose and kissed the top of Bryn’s head.

  “When did life get so screwed up?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “But it’s not all bad.”

  He simply stared down at her.

  “I mean, you’ve still got the boys, and they’re great. And I’ve got . . .” She patted her stomach and smiled.


  Bob smiled back at her then. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s not all bad.”

  He kissed her head again and left, closing the door behind him.

  24

  Corrie sat at her desk the next morning, a cup of cold coffee before her, wondering if Daniel had, indeed, gone back to California. What if he showed up at the house again? What if Mark was there next time?

  “Please, God,” she whispered. “Please just let him go away.”

  A knock on her office door roused her from her thoughts.

  “Hey,” Kenetha said softly. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” Corrie said. “I’m fine.”

  “Well, there’s a guy here who wants to see you. He says you’re old friends.”

  Daniel’s face appeared over Kenetha’s shoulder.

  Corrie’s stomach fell.

  “What do you want?” she demanded.

  Daniel walked into the office and smiled.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m going back to L.A. today. I just wanted to see you before I left.”

  Kenetha looked from him to Corrie, eyebrows raised.

  “It’s okay, Kenetha.” Corrie forced a small smile.

  Kenetha left, closing the door behind her.

  Daniel sat in a chair opposite Corrie and smiled again. “I’m not going to bite, I promise.”

  Corrie simply sat, waiting.

  “I know,” Daniel said, leaning forward. “I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have come to your house.”

  “No,” she said. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “I just had to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you? Because you don’t seem fine.”

  Corrie sighed. “Okay, I’m not fine. I’m angry with myself and I hate what I did to Mark. I feel like the worst person in the world. And I just want to forget it.”

  “I don’t,” Daniel said, smiling again. “I won’t ever forget how it felt to have you in my bed again.”

  “Stop it!” Corrie stood, holding the desk for support. “Just go back to California, Daniel. For God’s sake, please just go away.”

  “I’m going,” he said softly. “I have to be at a board meeting tomorrow. We have a potential donor coming. But I won’t just forget about you. You know that, right? I won’t ever forget, and I won’t stop hoping. And I won’t stop trying to convince you to come back. We belong together, Corrie. We always have, we always will.”

  Corrie shook her head, settling back into her chair, gripping the armrests. “No, we don’t,” she said firmly. “I belong with Mark. I love him. He’s my husband. What I felt for you, that’s over, Daniel. I didn’t know it until now, but I don’t love you anymore. All those years, I wondered if I still did. And now I know I don’t.”

  “Look, Corrie. I know you’re upset about Jenny, my . . . friend. I wish to hell you hadn’t heard that message. I wish to hell I could make you believe that what we have, what you and I have, is totally different. Jenny is just . . . she’s a friend and sometimes we sleep together. That’s all. But you, God, Corrie—you’re you! You’re the one I fell in love with all those years ago. You’re the one I never stopped thinking about. You’re the one I love. It feels like my life has just been on hold, and now I know why. I love you. I want you back.”

  “Daniel, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re unhappy, I am. But . . . but I left because I realized I don’t belong with you. I never did, really. My life is here. My family, my friends, my husband—my whole world is here. And it’s a good life. I like my life. I love my husband. And I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t love you anymore.”

  “I don’t believe you.” He gazed at her, not blinking.

  “Well, that’s too bad,” Corrie said, rising from her chair and walking to the door of the office. “Because it’s the truth.”

  She opened the door and held it, willing him to leave.

  Daniel stared at her in silence for a long moment, then rose and walked to the door. He touched Corrie’s hair with one finger, before she pulled away.

  “I’m not giving up,” he said softly. “I love you, Corrie. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “Go home, Daniel. Please just go home.”

  He leaned forward, kissed her cheek, and left.

  Corrie sat back down at her desk, leaned her face into her hands, and cried.

  The phone rang, and she sniffled to a stop to pick up the receiver.

  “Corrie Philips,” she said.

  “Corrie? It’s Paul.”

  Shit! Just what she didn’t need right now.

  “What do you want, Paul?”

  “I want you to tell me where Bryn is!” Paul’s voice shook. “Look, I know she’s pregnant. And I know she thinks I can’t handle it. But I love her. I love her, and I want to do the right thing. Please, Corrie, just tell me where she is.”

  Corrie hung up the phone and immediately began dialing.

  “Hello?”

  “Bryn, it’s Corrie.”

  “Hey! I was just going to call you. How are you?”

  “Can you do lunch?”

  “Um, sure, I guess so.”

  “Can you meet me at the Reverie in half an hour?”

  “Corrie? Are you okay?”

  “No,” Corrie said softly. “I’m not.”

  They sat at their usual table. The waiter, noting Corrie’s red eyes, laid a small stack of napkins on the table beside her plate.

  “What happened?” Bryn leaned across the table and took Corrie’s hands.

  “He came to the office today. He said he’s not giving up, that we belong together. All the stuff he said yesterday.”

  Corrie reached for a napkin.

  “Well, he’s not staying at Bob’s anymore,” Bryn said. “Bob told him he can’t.”

  “Oh my God!” Corrie’s face blanched. “Does Bob know?”

  “Not that you slept with him.” Bryn felt vaguely guilty lying to her friend, but she knew it would only upset Corrie more to know the truth.

  “But Daniel told him last night that he still loves you and that he wants you back.”

  “Oh God,” Corrie whispered. “Jesus Christ!”

  “It’s okay,” Bryn said, patting Corrie’s hand. “Bob read him the riot act. Told him you were happily married, and that he needed to leave you the hell alone.”

  “Poor Bob,” Corrie murmured. “That’s just what he needed.”

  Bryn nodded. “He was pretty upset. But not with you! Just with Daniel, for being such a prick.”

  “It’s not just Daniel’s fault,” Corrie said, shredding the napkin into a small pile on the table. “I’m the one who cheated on my husband.”

  The waiter appeared to take their orders. When he left, Bryn leaned across the table and touched Corrie’s cheek, her fingers gentle.

  “Yeah, you did. But it’s done. Done is done. It’s over and it’s time to move on.”

  Corrie said nothing.

  “I wonder where he’s going to stay?” Bryn asked.

  “He’s going back to California today.”

  “Thank God!”

  “He has a board meeting with a donor tomorrow. . . .”

  “Whatever,” Bryn said. “I’m just glad he’s going.”

  “He said he’ll be back.” Corrie raised teary eyes to Bryn. “What if Mark finds out?”

  “He won’t! Not unless you tell him. Does Daniel have your cell number?”

  Corrie nodded. “I called him to get directions.”

  “Give me the phone.”

  Bryn found the number and punched a few buttons.

  “There,” she said, handing the phone back. “He’s blocked. He can’t call you on your cell.”

  “Thanks.” Corrie put the phone back into her purse.

  The waiter appeared with their drinks, silently pushed the pile of shredded paper into his hand, and left.

  “Do you think we come here too often?” Bryn grinned at her friend.


  Corrie smiled wanly.

  “Paul called me again this morning,” she said, reaching for yet another napkin.

  “Oh lord,” Bryn groaned. “What did he want?”

  “He wants to know where you are.”

  “Screw him!”

  Corrie smiled. “I know,” she said. “But honestly, he did sound worried. He said he loves you and he wants to do the right thing.”

  “Paul wouldn’t know the right thing if it bit him in the ass.”

  “You’re going to have to talk to him sometime,” Corrie said. “It is his baby, too. He’s the father, and he has some rights . . . legally, I mean.”

  Bryn simply shrugged.

  “Well,” Corrie said, “it’s up to you. I just thought you should know he called.”

  The waiter returned with their plates and they ate in silence.

  “What are you up to this afternoon?” Corrie finally asked.

  “Actually, I have my first appointment with the ob-gyn.”

  “Wow!” Corrie smiled. “Who are you seeing?”

  “Dr. Reynolds,” Bryn said. “Bob recommended her.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “A little bit.” Bryn took a bite of her sandwich and chewed slowly. “I kind of hate the prospect of going alone, you know?”

  “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “No, that’s okay.” She smiled at Corrie. “If I’m going to be a single mom, I’m going to have to get used to doing things on my own.”

  “Well, just remember, you don’t have to do everything by yourself.” Corrie took her hand. “I’m always here, if you need me.”

  25

  Bryn sat on the exam table, smoothing out the paper gown she wore. The room was cheerful, with yellow-and-blue wallpaper and a bright white border. Posters of babies covered the walls. She resisted the urge to don her sunglasses.

  “Hello, Bryn.” A young woman offered her hand. “I’m Dr. Reynolds.”

  “Hi,” Bryn said, smiling.

  “So, we ran your urine sample, and you are pregnant. Congratulations.”

  Bryn took a deep breath. Now it’s real, she thought.

  “From the date of your last period, it looks like you’re about six weeks along,” the doctor said. “That puts your due date in the second week of May. Let’s call it May twelfth. That’s a rough guess, of course. Most babies don’t come on their due dates, especially first babies.”

 

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