“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had . . . company.”
“Hi, Grace.” Corrie’s voice was small.
“Hello.” Grace looked at her coldly. Corrie’s stomach lurched.
“I was just going,” she stammered, handing the baby back to Sarah. “I’ll call you soon.” She kissed Sarah’s cheek and walked quickly past Grace, still standing in the doorway.
“The nerve!” Grace’s voice followed her down the hall.
36
When she got home, Corrie sat down at the computer to write an email to Mark. Ignoring her in-box, she wrote:
Dear Mark,
I just wanted to say thank you for calling me about Sarah. I know you are hurt and angry. I know I messed up. I wish I could take it all back. I wish there was some way I could make it up to you, or prove to you how sorry I am. I love you so much.
I had my first appointment today with Dr. Ping. He confirmed the pregnancy and set up an appointment on Dec. 14 for me to have an amniocentesis. That will tell us for sure whether or not you are the father. I am praying so hard that you are.
I wish you would come home. I miss you so much. I hate sleeping in the bed without you. I hate not having you here in the morning. I just hate you not being here.
Please call me if you want to talk. I won’t keep trying to call you. I know you need some time and space to work things out. Please just don’t forget that
I love you.
Always yours,
Corrie
She hit the send button and closed her eyes, willing her stomach to settle. Finally, she sighed and looked at the long list of messages in her in-box. Most of them were from Daniel. She read the most recent:
Dear Corrie,
I’m trying hard to be good and not harass you. But I wish you would just email me and let me know you’re okay. I haven’t heard from you since I came back, and I’m starting to worry.
I love you,
D
Corrie sighed heavily and began reading through the older messages. He loved her. He knew she loved him. He didn’t want to mess up her life, but he really wanted to give them another chance. On and on they went. Eventually, she rose and threw the nearest book across the room.
“Damn you, Daniel!” she yelled. “Damn you! Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
Her phone rang, startling her into silence. She looked at the caller ID and sighed before answering.
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
“What’s going on with you and Mark?” Patrice’s voice demanded.
“What do you mean?”
Oh God, Corrie thought, she knows already.
“I ran into Grace at the mall this morning, and she walked right past me. She didn’t even say hello. And when I called after her, she just kept walking and didn’t turn around. Are you and Mark all right?”
“No, Mom. We’re not all right.”
“What happened?”
“Mark left me.”
“What! Why? What did you do?” Patrice demanded.
Corrie sat down at the kitchen table, willing her voice to stay calm.
“I slept with Daniel while I was in California.”
“Oh, Corrie, no! Why would you do that?”
“It just happened. I messed up big-time.”
“And you told Mark about it? What were you thinking?”
Corrie sighed heavily. “I’m pregnant, Mom.”
That silenced Patrice for an instant.
“Is the baby Daniel’s?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Good lord, Coriander Bliss, how could you be so stupid?”
“I don’t know.” Corrie’s voice shook.
“I mean it, how could you be so stupid? You have a perfect life—a nice house, lots of money, a husband who adores you. Why would you throw that away for a man who dumped you years ago?”
Corrie didn’t reply.
After a minute, Patrice said in a calmer voice, “Okay, you messed things up. Now what are you going to do to fix them?”
“I don’t know,” Corrie said. “I went to the doctor today and he’s set up an amniocentesis for me in December. That will tell us who the father is.”
“I cannot believe you told Mark about Daniel. Why would you do something like that?”
“Because he’s my husband, Mom. I love him and I couldn’t just lie about him being the father.”
“I cannot believe I raised such a selfish child!” Patrice’s voice rose again. “What do you think you’re going to do when he divorces you? Who will support you? Don’t even think about moving back in here. I did my job. I raised you kids. It’s your turn to take care of me now.”
Corrie’s hand shook and she bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.
“Don’t worry,” she spat. “I would never move back in with you, not if my life depended on it.”
She ended the call and sat staring at her beautiful kitchen, the granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, cheery tile backsplash. Her mother was right about one thing. She’d had the perfect life. And now she’d lost it.
She rose unsteadily, walked to the bedroom, and flopped down on the bed. Then she cried until she had to run to the bathroom to throw up.
“Oh God, honey, I’m so sorry.”
Bryn sat on the edge of the bed, holding Corrie’s hand.
“Are you okay?”
Corrie nodded. Her eyes were puffy and red.
“I knew she would be upset,” she said. “But God! She’s my mother. She’s supposed to be on my side, you know?”
Bryn hesitated briefly, then said, “She hasn’t really been a mother to you for a long time, Corrie. Maybe it’s time, finally, to let it go. Just take care of yourself and the baby now. Let Patrice figure things out for herself.”
“I guess so.” Corrie sighed. “I just wish—”
“I know, it’s the same thing you always wish. That she was a normal mom. But she’s not. And you have got to start standing up for yourself. And not just for you, for your baby. All this drama can’t be good for the baby.”
Corrie nodded. “You’re right.”
“Come on,” Bryn said, pulling Corrie up from the bed. “Let’s make something to eat. I’m really hungry.”
“Ugh,” Corrie said. “I’m not.”
“Have you eaten anything today?”
Corrie stopped to think about it. “I had half a bagel this morning.”
Bryn shook her head. “You have to start taking better care of yourself. You’re eating for two now.”
They made chicken salad sandwiches and ate them with grapes on the back porch, watching the autumn sun sink below the horizon.
“So are you sure you want to do the amnio?” Bryn asked.
“I have to,” Corrie said. “I can’t wait nine months to know. I think I’d go crazy.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to.” Corrie smiled at her friend.
“You can’t go by yourself,” Bryn said firmly.
“Thanks.”
“Have you told Daniel yet?”
Corrie shook her head.
“Have you heard from him?”
“I’ve had about a million emails from him.”
“You probably should answer him,” Bryn said. “I know, it sounds weird coming from me; we both know he’s not my favorite person in the world. But if you just keep ignoring him, he might end up on your doorstep again. You don’t want that, do you?”
“No!” Corrie shook her head. “I just don’t want to deal with Daniel right now. If he is the father, I’ll let him know in December. Right now, I’m just concentrating on the positive. I keep thinking if I pray hard enough, the baby will be Mark’s.”
Bryn smiled and shook her head.
“I know it’s silly,” Corrie said. “But that’s what is keeping me sane right now.”
“Hey, whatever works.” Bryn rose and took Corrie’s plate. “Let’s go get some ice cream.”
Corrie laughed, and Bryn said, “Hey, as long as I’m not throwing up I might as well be eating, right?”
“I guess so.”
They put their dishes in the sink and found their shoes.
The doorbell rang.
Bryn’s eyes widened. “Do you think it’s Mark?”
“I don’t think so,” Corrie said. “He just came in last time.”
She walked into the living room and opened the front door. Her father-in-law stood on the porch, his hands in his pockets.
“Oh, Tom,” Corrie said. “I wasn’t . . . Is everything all right?”
“Can I come in?” His voice was low.
“Sure.”
He stopped when he saw Bryn. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had company.”
“It’s okay,” Corrie said. “Bryn was just leaving.”
“You call me if you need me,” Bryn whispered in her ear as she hugged Corrie.
Corrie closed the door behind her.
“Do you want a drink?” she asked.
“That would be good,” Tom said.
He followed her into the kitchen and sat at the table.
“So . . . what’s up?” Corrie asked, handing him a glass of wine.
“I’m just so sorry about you and Mark,” he said. “I know Grace was unpleasant when you saw her at the hospital, and I wanted to apologize for that.”
Corrie sank into a chair across from him.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” she said. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’m so sorry . . .”
Tom held up his hand.
“Listen,” he said, “just let me say what I came here to say.”
“Okay.” She sat back in her chair and waited. After a long pause, Tom spoke.
“I was unfaithful to Grace once, a long time ago. It was a terrible mistake, and I’ve never stopped regretting it.”
Corrie stared at her father-in-law.
“The point is that sometimes these things . . . happen. But that doesn’t have to mean the end of the marriage. Grace finally forgave me, and we’ve had forty wonderful years together.”
He paused and sipped his wine.
“I think that’s part of why she’s so angry with you,” he said. “It brings back old hurts.”
“Does Mark know?” Corrie whispered.
Tom nodded. “I told him a couple nights ago. I thought he needed to hear it, to see that you can work through it if you try.”
“Thank you.” Corrie’s voice shook. “Really, thank you. I can’t imagine how hard it was to tell him.”
“He’s my son.” Tom smiled at her. “I want him to be happy. And I know he loves you.”
“But if the baby isn’t his . . .” Corrie’s voice trailed away.
“That will be hard,” Tom said. “But again, if you want to make it work, you’ll find a way. That’s what I told him, and that’s what I’m telling you.”
They sat silently for a minute, then Tom rose and put his glass on the counter.
“I won’t keep you,” he said. “I just want you to know that Grace and I both love you. And we are both praying that you and Mark can work things out.”
He hugged her as she cried into his chest.
“Thank you, Tom. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
“Oh, but I do,” he said, smiling down at her. “That’s why I’m here.”
He kissed the top of her head and left.
Corrie folded her legs beneath her on the couch, wondering at the conversation she’d just had.
Maybe if Tom could forgive her, Mark could, too. Maybe they could work things out, after all.
Please, God, let that be true.
She sat in silence for a while, then picked up the phone and dialed Maya’s number. Her mother might not be on her side, but her little sister damned well would be.
37
Corrie sat in Father Carmichael’s office, fingering her rosary.
“What’s troubling you today, Corrie?” The priest smiled at her encouragingly.
Corrie bit her lip. Finally, her voice trembling, she spoke.
“I’m pregnant, Father.”
“Corrie, that’s wonderful!” Father Carmichael grinned widely. “I know how much you and Mark have wanted a baby.”
“Um, well . . .” Corrie stammered. “The thing is . . . I slept with another man, Father. When I was in California last month, I slept with the man I was involved with before Mark.”
She paused, her cheeks burning.
“Oh,” the priest said softly. “Oh.”
A long pause ensued. At last, he spoke again. “Does Mark know?”
Corrie nodded, not meeting his eyes.
“He’s left me.”
“I see.”
“I’m so sorry, Father. I wish so much it didn’t happen. I know I’ve sinned, and it’s unforgivable.” Corrie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block the tears.
“A sin, yes,” the priest said quietly. “But not unforgivable.”
Corrie raised her eyes to meet his.
“We all make mistakes, Corrie. God knows we are human and that we all make mistakes. The mystery of God, the mystery of God’s grace, is that he loves us in spite of our mistakes.”
“I don’t see how he could possibly love me, after what I’ve done.”
They sat in silence for a moment. When Father Carmichael spoke again, his voice was soft but firm.
“Corrie, God loves you because you are his child. Consider the child you’re carrying now. Do you love your baby?”
Corrie folded her arms across her stomach and nodded. “More than anything,” she whispered.
“Then think how much more God loves you. God’s love surpasses our understanding. Your child is human. Someday he or she will make mistakes and disappoint you. That doesn’t mean you’ll stop loving him or her.”
Corrie thought about that for a while. Finally, she raised her head to look at the priest. “Thank you, Father.”
She paused again, longer this time. When she spoke once more, her voice faltered.
“I think I have to leave Holy Spirit,” she said. “This is Mark’s church, his family’s church. I don’t want to make it hard for him to be here. He’s going to need you more than ever.”
“The church is big enough for everyone, Corrie.”
Corrie shook her head. “I think it would be best if I found a new parish.”
Father Carmichael smiled sadly.
“St. Luke’s is a wonderful parish,” he said. “They even have a Parents Without Partners group meeting there on Tuesday nights. It might be a good fit for you.”
Corrie nodded, tears filling her eyes.
“I’ll miss you, Father. I’ll miss Holy Spirit.”
“We’ll be here, Corrie. We’ll always be here, if you want to come back.”
38
Corrie sat in the waiting room at her doctor’s office, shaking from head to toe. Beside her, Bryn sat looking through a parenting magazine. Her hand rested on her belly, which was just beginning to show a tiny bulge.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Corrie said.
“You can,” Bryn assured her, laying aside the magazine. “You need to know so you can get on with things.”
Outside, the December sky was gray and cold. Corrie felt as if she’d been sleepwalking for the last few weeks, waiting to find out if she and Mark could pick up the pieces of their marriage. They’d met for coffee twice, both times awkward and painful.
Please, God, please let this baby be Mark’s. It had become her mantra, one she repeated hundreds of times each day. Soon she would know the truth.
“Corrie Philips?” The nurse holding a clipboard called her name.
Corrie and Bryn both rose. The nurse smiled.
“How are you?” she asked.
“I’ll be better once this is over with,” Corrie said. “Is it okay if my friend comes in with me?”
“Sure,” the nurse said.
/> Bryn waited outside the exam room while Corrie undressed and donned a hospital gown.
“You can come in,” Corrie called. She felt horribly exposed sitting on the exam table, clutching the faded blue gown around her.
“You’re going to be okay,” Bryn said firmly, taking her hand. “In a few minutes, it will be over and done with. And next week, you’ll know.”
“I know,” Corrie said. “But what if . . .”
“No what ifs right now,” Bryn said. “Right now, we’re going to see your baby.”
The nurse came in and took Corrie’s blood pressure and temperature. Then Dr. Ping arrived. He smiled at Corrie and patted her hand.
“Are you ready?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, I’m going to give you local anesthesia,” he said. “Just a small prick.”
Corrie squeezed her eyes shut as the doctor squeezed cold jelly onto her belly. Then she heard the whoosh-whoosh of the ultrasound.
“There’s your baby.”
She opened her eyes and stared at the monitor. Beside her, Bryn drew in a quick breath and squeezed her hand.
“See, there’s the head and that’s the heart. And feet and hands.” The doctor pointed to the monitor. Corrie couldn’t stop staring at the image on the screen. The baby moved slightly, and she felt tears sting her eyes.
“Now,” said Dr. Ping, “I’m going to insert the needle just here.” He pointed to a place a bit removed from the baby. “I want you to hold very still.”
Corrie closed her eyes again, praying as hard as she had ever prayed. Please, God, please! Let the baby be Mark’s. And please, please, please let the baby be okay.
After only a minute, it was over. Dr. Ping took the tube with the amniotic fluid, sealed it, and attached a label. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. “You just lie still.”
“Did it hurt?” Bryn asked, using tissues to wipe the jelly from Corrie’s stomach.
“No,” Corrie said. “Just the first shot.”
“Do you feel okay?”
Corrie nodded, chewing on her lip. Please, God. Please . . .
Bryn drove Corrie home and made her lie on the couch.
“I’m going to make some soup,” she said. “You just lie there and be good.”
The Weight of Small Things Page 21