The Weight of Small Things

by Wood Emmons, Sherri

  Corrie smiled at her friend.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m glad you came with me.”

  “Me too.”

  The phone rang in the kitchen, and Corrie heard Bryn answer.

  “Oh, hi, Mark. Yes, she’s all right. She’s on the couch. She’s supposed to take it easy for the rest of the day.”

  Corrie listened intently.

  “Do you want to talk to her?”

  Corrie started to rise, felt a tiny cramp, and leaned back onto the cushion.

  “Okay,” Bryn said, “I’ll tell her. Sure thing.”

  “That was Mark.” Bryn walked into the room carrying a glass of milk. “He just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “He didn’t want to talk to me?” Corrie’s voice wavered.

  “He said he was on his way into a meeting.”

  Corrie’s eyes filled.

  “At least he called,” Bryn said. “At least he cares enough to worry about you.”

  Corrie nodded.

  “Now drink your milk.” Bryn put the glass on the coffee table.

  “Bryn?”

  Bryn stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and turned. “Yeah?”

  “Have you heard from Paul at all?”

  “Not since that last call after our date. I told him to stay the hell away from me, and I guess he took it seriously.”

  “Do you miss him?”

  Bryn leaned against the door frame, her hand on her stomach.

  “Sometimes,” she admitted. “I mean, I did tell him not to call. But I guess I thought he would anyway.

  “Oh well.” She straightened her shoulders. “I knew from the start he wasn’t father material, right?”

  “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” Corrie said, willing herself not to cry.

  Bryn walked back to the couch, sat down, and hugged her tightly.

  “We’re going to be just fine, you and me,” she said. “We have each other, we have Bob, we have our babies. We’re going to be okay.”

  “I love you,” Corrie whispered.

  “I love you back.”

  A week later, Corrie and Bryn sat in Dr. Ping’s office, holding hands, waiting. After what felt like an eternity, the doctor walked in, carrying some papers.

  “How are you?” he asked, smiling at Corrie.

  “I’m okay.” Her voice was small.

  “Well, you have a healthy baby,” he said.

  Corrie said nothing. She simply stared at him, clutching Bryn’s hand.

  “I’m sorry, Corrie,” Dr. Ping said gently. “The baby is not Mark’s.”

  Corrie crumpled in her chair. “Oh God. Oh my God.”

  Bryn wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed.

  “I’m very sorry,” the doctor repeated. “I know this isn’t how you wanted things.”

  He waited a long minute while Corrie cried, shaking hard.

  “But, Corrie,” he said finally, taking her hand. “You have a beautiful, healthy baby.”

  “I know,” she said, trying to smile. “I’m so glad it’s healthy.”

  “Do you want to know if it’s a boy or girl?”

  Corrie raised her head. Beside her, Bryn was nodding.

  “Yes,” Corrie said.

  “It’s a girl.” Dr. Ping smiled at her. “A healthy baby girl. You have a daughter.”

  She sat a moment, letting it sink in. A daughter. Not Mark’s daughter. Daniel’s daughter.

  No, she thought then, my daughter. This baby is mine.

  “Everything looks good,” Dr. Ping said. “The baby is developing normally. No chromosomal defects. It all looks good.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Ping.”

  “Are you all right?” He smiled at her again.

  “I guess so.” She tried to sound confident.

  “I’ll see you in two weeks for your regular appointment. In the meantime, take care of yourself. I mean it, Corrie. I want you to eat and sleep and exercise and try not to worry too much. Just concentrate on having a healthy baby.”

  39

  The doorbell rang and Corrie rose slowly, laying aside the magazine she had been pretending to read.

  Oh God, please help me. And please, God, help Mark!

  She opened the door and Mark smiled at her tentatively.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “And the baby?”

  “The baby is fine.”

  “Good,” he said, sitting down in the recliner.

  She stared at him for a minute, steeling herself. Please, God . . .

  “The baby isn’t yours,” she whispered.

  “Oh.” His voice was so soft she barely heard it.

  “I’m sorry, Mark. I’m so sorry! I wanted it to be yours so much. I hate that she’s not yours.”

  He sat still, staring at the floor. “Me too,” he said at last.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No, I’m not all right.”

  They sat a minute, neither of them speaking.

  “Okay,” he said finally. “Well, at least now we know. At least now we can move on.”

  “What do you mean, move on?” She watched him, her stomach churning.

  “I mean, move on. There’s nothing holding us together now.” He rose and began pacing the floor.

  “Look, I’ve put off getting an apartment because I thought if the baby was mine, maybe we could work it out.”

  “We can still work it out!” Corrie’s voice shook.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’ve thought about it a lot, Corrie. And I can’t do it. I can’t raise Daniel’s kid and just pretend it’s mine, pretend that it’s okay.”

  “But, Mark . . .”

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was gentle. “I’m not trying to punish you or hurt you. I just can’t do it.”

  Corrie sank back into the couch. She felt like she might throw up.

  “You can keep the house,” he said. “I’ll make a list of stuff I want to take. We can work this out without a bunch of lawyers.”

  She stared at him in disbelief.

  “You want a divorce?”

  “I don’t want a divorce,” he said. “I need a divorce. I can’t do this, Corrie. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

  “But your dad said . . .”

  “I know what my dad said!” Mark’s voice rose. “He told me about his affair, what he did to my mom. But at least he didn’t get some other woman pregnant! He didn’t ask my mother to raise his bastard child!”

  Corrie felt the words like a slap across the face. She lowered her head and let her tears fall unchecked.

  “I’m sorry,” Mark said. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to do. I don’t want to yell and fight. I don’t want to hurt you, and I know you don’t want to hurt me. I just want it over and done with.”

  He walked to the front door and paused.

  “I’m filing for divorce,” he said. “I hope we can do this without a bunch of fighting.”

  He looked at her for a long minute, then sighed heavily and left, closing the door behind him.

  Corrie lay back on the couch and cried, her arms wrapped around her stomach.

  Mark was gone and he wasn’t coming back. Her life was over.

  And then she felt something she’d never felt before. A tiny fluttering in her stomach, as if a moth had been let loose inside her. She sat up, her hands on her belly, waiting intently. And felt it again.

  Could it be? Again, a small flutter.

  Through her tears she smiled and then she laughed. It was life, her baby moving inside her, her tiny daughter making her presence known. It felt just the way Bryn had described it a couple weeks earlier, like a tiny butterfly fluttering in her womb.

  She rose, her hand still on her stomach, and reached for the phone. She started to dial Sarah’s number, then stopped. She hadn’t seen Sarah since Grace was born. Now that she’d joined St. Luke’s, she didn’t even run into her old friend
at church anymore.

  She bit her lip, gripping the phone tightly. This was a moment she’d dreamed of for so long, one that had always included Sarah. Now . . . she shook her head. Sarah was Mark’s sister. He would need her now more than ever. She had no right to intrude on that.

  She sat a moment, hand still on her belly, and then she called Maya.

  40

  Corrie took a deep breath and dialed. After only one ring, she heard Daniel’s voice.

  “Daniel Chapman.”

  “Daniel, it’s Corrie.”

  “Corrie! God, I’m so glad to hear from you. How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said softly. “Is this a good time to talk?”

  “Hang on just a minute. I want to close the door.

  “Okay, we’re good. God, Corrie, I’ve been going out of my mind missing you. I mean, I’ve been good. I haven’t called even once. I really have been trying. But you can’t believe how much I’ve missed you!”

  “Daniel, I have something I need to tell you.” Corrie’s voice shook slightly.

  “Okay.” He sounded apprehensive.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Oh,” he said finally. “That’s . . . that’s great, Corrie. Congratulations. I know how much you’ve wanted this.”

  “The baby is yours.”

  Corrie sat, waiting for his response, chewing her fingernail.

  “Oh,” he said again. “Oh God, Corrie. Are you sure? Does your husband know?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” she said. “I had a DNA test done. It’s your baby. And Mark knows. In fact, he’s filing for divorce.”

  “Oh, Corrie-Andy, I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not sorry the baby is mine. I just . . . I’m sorry you’re going through so much. Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not okay. I’m a mess.”

  “I’m coming out there.”

  “No!” Her voice rose. “Please don’t come, Daniel. Not right now. Let me just get through the holidays and then . . . and then we’ll talk.”

  “Corrie, you just told me you’re having my baby. Our baby! I am not going to wait until after the holidays. I need to see you now. We have so much to decide.”

  “Please, Daniel. Please don’t come now. I can’t handle any more. I just have to get through Christmas. Then we’ll talk. Please?” Her voice quavered.

  “Corrie, I don’t want to make things worse for you.” Daniel’s voice was soft now, reassuring. “I promise I don’t. But I need to see you. We have to talk about this, about the future. I’m not trying to make it hard for you, but I’m this baby’s father. It’s not just your baby.”

  “It’s a girl,” she said so quietly he had to strain to hear her.

  “Oh wow,” he breathed. “A girl. We’re going to have a daughter. Corrie, that’s just freaking amazing!”

  She allowed herself a small smile. “It is kind of amazing.”

  “I’m booking a flight for tomorrow,” he said. “No arguments. And no pressure. We don’t have to decide everything right now. But I really need to see you, Corrie. We need to see each other.”

  She sighed. “All right,” she said. “But I don’t think you’d better plan on staying at Bob’s.”

  “Does he know?”

  “Yes,” she said. “He and Bryn and my mother . . . everybody knows.”

  “Everybody but me, apparently. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “I was waiting until I had the test. If the baby had been Mark’s, well, it would be a whole different story.”

  “I’ll bet,” he said. “Okay, I’m going to book a flight and I’ll let you know when I’m getting in. And don’t worry, I won’t bother Bob. I’m sure he’s pretty pissed off at me right now. I’ll just get a hotel.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “Corrie?” His voice was tentative. “It’s going to be all right. I promise it will.”

  “I hope so,” she said. “Good-bye, Daniel.”

  The next afternoon, Corrie left work early. When she pulled into her driveway, Daniel was already there, leaning against a rental car. He grinned at her as he opened her door. Then, before she could stop it, he swooped her into an embrace, lifting her feet from the ground.

  “God,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I am so glad to see you!”

  “Stop it, Daniel! Put me down.”

  He set her back on the ground and she pulled away from him.

  “Sorry,” he said, still smiling. “I really am glad to see you.”

  Corrie retrieved her purse and briefcase from the car.

  “Come inside,” she said. “I don’t need the whole neighborhood watching us.”

  He followed her into the house and waited while she put away her things.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, eyeing her anxiously. “Do you feel all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m pregnant, not sick.”

  “I can’t believe you’re pregnant.” Daniel’s blue eyes sparkled. “I can’t believe we’re going to have a daughter.”

  “Do you want coffee?” Corrie walked into the kitchen. He followed.

  “You can’t have coffee, can you? Isn’t caffeine bad for the baby?”

  She sighed and let herself smile just a bit. At least someone was worrying over her.

  “I can make decaf,” she said.

  “Decaf sounds good.”

  Daniel took a seat at the breakfast bar in the spot Mark usually occupied.

  “Let’s sit at the table,” Corrie said. She measured coffee into the pot and poured in water.

  They sat across from each other, Daniel staring at Corrie, Corrie staring at the wall above Daniel’s head.

  “So, when is the baby due?”

  “June,” she said.

  “June,” he repeated. “That’s good. Summer birthdays are more fun.”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s going to be all right, Corrie.”

  She smiled at him. “Just because you keep saying it doesn’t make it so.”

  “It’s true, Corrie. It will be all right. I know this isn’t what you planned. And I can’t imagine how hard it is for you right now. And I can’t believe your jerk of a husband just left you high and dry.”

  “Don’t talk about him like that!”

  Corrie rose and walked to the counter.

  “None of this is Mark’s fault. He didn’t cheat on me. He didn’t conceive a child with another woman. All he’s ever done is loved me. And you don’t get to pass any kind of judgment on him.”

  “Okay.” He raised his hands above his head. “I won’t talk about it. I just don’t understand how he could leave, just like that.”

  Corrie said nothing as she poured two mugs of coffee, then added cream to hers.

  “If we are going to talk,” she said as she set a mug down before him, “then here are the ground rules. First, Mark is off-limits. I mean it,” she said as he opened his mouth. “Not another word about my husband, or we’re done.”

  “Sure,” he said. “All right.”

  “Second,” she continued and then paused. “Okay, there is no second. Just the one rule.”

  “Got it,” he said.

  “So . . .” She took a sip of coffee and wrinkled her nose.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “It needs sugar,” she said, reaching for the sugar bowl.

  His eyebrows raised. “You always drank your coffee black.”

  “I know.” She spooned sugar into her cup. “But ever since I’ve been pregnant, all my tastes have changed.”

  He smiled at her.

  “So, let’s talk,” he said. “Let’s talk about you and the baby and us.”

  “There is no us, Daniel. There’s you and there’s me and there’s the baby. But there is no us.”

  He reached across the table and took her hand.

  “There can be, though,” he said, staring into her eyes. “It can be us, you and me and our daughter.”

>   She simply shook her head.

  “Come to Los Angeles,” he said. “Seriously, Corrie, move in with me. We can make a life together.”

  “You and me and Capri?”

  “Capri is moving out,” he said. “She and Mia are getting a place together. In fact, she’s going to meet Mia’s parents at Christmas.”

  “That’s nice,” Corrie said. “I hope it works out for her.”

  “So,” he said, “we can turn her room into a nursery. She’s even offered to paint it before she moves out. She’s excited about the baby.”

  “You told her?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “It’s not a secret, right? I mean, you’ve already told everybody.”

  “I just didn’t know you told her.”

  “She’s happy for us. And she said to tell you thank you for sending the magazines. She was really happy with the article.”

  “Good.”

  They sat a minute, and Daniel said again, “Come to California.”

  “I can’t,” she said, smiling at him. “My whole life is here. I can’t just leave my job and everything.”

  “Why not? Look.” Daniel rose and began pacing the kitchen floor. “What’s here for you, anyway? Just your soon-to-be ex-husband and his family and all your mutual friends.”

  “There’s my mom,” Corrie started, then stopped.

  “Does she know about the baby?”

  She nodded.

  “So what does she think?”

  “That I’m a terrible daughter.”

  Daniel stopped and stared at her. “You can’t be serious. We’re talking about Patrice, right? She can’t be passing judgment on you because you had an affair.”

  “A fling,” Corrie corrected him. “And no, she’s not mad about that. She’s mad about the divorce.”

  Daniel sat down and looked at her.

  Corrie sighed. “Mark and I have been pretty much supporting her since I married him. She’s mad because her gravy train is leaving the station.”

  “I’m sorry, Corrie,” Daniel said. “That’s rough. But it’s all the more reason to come to L.A. You can always get another job.”

  “I happen to love my job,” she said. “And I love this town. All my friends are here. It’s home.

  “Besides, I’m not even divorced from Mark. I keep hoping that maybe he’ll change his mind and come home. I love him.”