The Weight of Small Things (22 page)

42

B
ryn awoke on Christmas morning to a light tapping on her bedroom door.

“Bryn?” Cody’s voice was soft.

“What do you need, Cody?” Bryn looked at the clock. Seven a.m.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now.”

“Are you getting up?”

“I guess so.”

“Good! Daddy says we can’t open our presents until you get up.”

“Daddy also told you not to wake her up!” Bob’s voice startled her.

“But, Daddy, she’s already awake.”

“Sorry, Bryn,” Bob called through the door.

“It’s okay,” she called back. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

She yawned, stretched, and reached for her robe.

The living room was strewn with brightly wrapped packages. The lights on the tree sparkled. Micah and Cody sat on the floor, picking up packages and shaking them.

“Merry Christmas,” Bryn said, smiling.

“Merry Christmas, Bryn! Look at all the stuff Santa brought!” Cody’s eyes shone.

“Here.” Bob handed her a mug of hot coffee. “Sorry about the early wakeup call.”

“It’s fine,” she said, beaming back at him. “It’s Christmas!”

“Can we start now, Daddy?” Micah was holding a long box wrapped in festive red-and-white paper.

“Yeah.” Bob smiled at his sons. “Have at it.”

The next half hour was pure bedlam, filled with torn paper, scattered bows, and cries of delight.

“Thanks, Bryn!” Cody had just unwrapped a huge Transformer. “Look, Micah, it’s Optimus Prime!”

“Cool,” Micah said, not looking up from the package he was opening. Bryn watched him intently, as a huge smile spread across his face. He pulled a pair of binoculars from the box.

“Whoo!” he breathed. “How did you know?”

He raised his eyes to Bryn, who grinned down at him.

“An elf told me,” she said.

“Thanks, Bryn!” Micah ran to the couch, every trace of his seven-year-old coolness erased, and threw his arms around her.

“You’re welcome.” Bryn felt tears sting her eyes. She looked over Micah’s head to where Bob sat, gazing at them, his own eyes shining with tears.

“Okay,” Bob said, rising. “Why don’t you guys pick up the paper and bows, and I’ll start breakfast.”

Bryn followed him into the kitchen.

“That was fun,” she said, refilling her coffee cup.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I was kind of worried about this, their first Christmas without Wendy. But they seem okay.”

“Yes, they do. You’re a great dad, Bob.”

He turned and smiled at her. “And next year, you’ll have a baby of your own for Christmas.”

“It’s still hard to believe,” she said, patting her belly.

“Thanks, Bryn,” he said, taking her hands. “You made this morning a whole lot easier.”

“Back at you,” she said, kissing his cheek.

The doorbell rang.

“That’s got to be Corrie,” Bryn said. “I’ll go.”

She walked into the living room just as Cody opened the front door.

“Mommy!” He threw his arms around his mother, grinning broadly.

“Hey, baby!” Wendy knelt down and wrapped Cody in a tight embrace. “Merry Christmas!”

“Wendy?” Bob stood in the living room, staring at his not-quite-ex-wife.

“Merry Christmas, Bob.” She smiled up at him. “I hope it’s okay. I just had to come see them.”

“I wish you had called first. But . . . sure, it’s okay. Come on in. I was just making breakfast.”

“Micah?” Wendy turned to look at her older son, standing just behind his father, watching her.

“Hi,” he said softly.

“Don’t I get a hug?” Wendy asked, opening her arms.

Micah walked toward her slowly and allowed himself to be hugged.

“Where’s Luke?” he asked.

“Oh, Luke is out of the picture,” Wendy said, smiling at him. “We broke up. So . . . now maybe we can spend more time together.”

Bob met Bryn’s eyes across the room. She raised her eyebrows and he shrugged.

“Bryn.” Wendy’s voice was sharp. “I didn’t even see you there.” She eyed Bryn with obvious distaste, her eyes traveling from Bryn’s tousled hair to her short robe.

“Hi, Wendy,” Bryn said, feeling suddenly very exposed. “Merry Christmas.”

“So.” Wendy turned away from her and said to Bob, “Are we making Christmas pancakes? Because I brought real maple syrup!”

She followed him into the kitchen, the boys right behind them. Bryn wrapped her robe more tightly around herself and sighed. She was surprised at how deflated she felt.

Get it together, Bryn. It’s not like they’re your family
.

She went to her room to pull on some jeans and a sweater. By the time she came back to the living room, the boys were setting the table. In the kitchen, she could hear Wendy laughing. Her stomach tightened.

“What can I do to help?” she asked, walking into the kitchen.

“We’ve got it covered,” Wendy said, not turning from the stove, where she was flipping pancakes.

Bob smiled at Bryn. “Why don’t you just sit down and relax?”

So Bryn sat at the table, watching the family settle swiftly into an old routine. She was grateful when the doorbell rang again.

“I’ll get it.” She opened the door and wrapped her arms around Corrie.

“Thank God you’re here,” she whispered.

“Are you okay?” Corrie pulled back to look at her.

“Yeah,” Bryn said, forcing a smile. “Wendy is here.”

Corrie stared at her. “Did Bob invite her?”

Bryn shook her head. “She just showed up.”

“Great.” Corrie grimaced. “That’s just what we all need.”

She followed Bryn into the house and set a covered dish on the table.

“That smells great!” Bob kissed Corrie’s cheek.

“It’s a hash brown casserole. Thank you for having me.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, taking her coat. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Hi, Corrie.” Wendy smiled at her. “So, we’re quite a crew today. Where’s Mark?”

Corrie’s cheeks reddened. “He’s not coming,” she said softly. “We’ve separated.”

“I’m sorry.” Wendy turned back to the stove. “That seems to be going around.”

Bryn rolled her eyes at Corrie. Bob just shook his head.

They sat down to a table loaded with pancakes, bacon, pecan rolls, and Corrie’s hash brown casserole. Wendy regally claimed her regular place at the table, smiling sweetly at Bob.

“I brought maple syrup,” Wendy said, pouring some on Cody’s pancakes.

Cody grinned at his mother. “Are you coming home now, Mommy?”

“Well, I don’t know, honey.” Wendy smiled back at him. “That depends on Daddy.”

Bryn choked on her orange juice. Corrie stared firmly at her plate.

Micah rose from the table. “Can I be excused?” He sprinted toward the bathroom.

“Wendy.” Bob spoke quietly. “Now is not the time.”

“I was just answering his question,” she said, smiling at Bob.

“Is she coming home, Daddy?” Cody looked from his mother to his father.

“No, Cody.” Bob put his hand over Cody’s. “Mommy doesn’t live here anymore.”

“But she broke up with Luke,” Cody said. “So now she can come home.”

“It’s not that easy,” Bob said, measuring his words carefully. “Mommy and I will talk about it later. Right now, let’s just enjoy our pancakes, okay?”

“Anyone need more coffee?” Bryn rose and walked into the kitchen, chewing the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming.

Micah returned to the table, studiously avoiding his mother’s eyes.

“Are you okay, honey?” Wendy asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, eat your pancakes,” she said.

They ate in uncomfortable silence. Finally, Wendy said, “Corrie, I just love that casserole. I’m going to have to get that recipe.”

“Sure,” Corrie said. “I’ll email it to you.”

“So, here’s a question,” Wendy said. “Since you and Mark are separated, why doesn’t Bryn just move in with you?”

“Wendy!” Bob stood, dropping his napkin to the table. “Can I talk to you outside?”

Wendy raised her eyebrows. “What’s wrong? It’s a simple question. I mean, they lived together before; it seems like the perfect solution to Bryn’s housing problem.”

Bryn rose and carried her plate to the kitchen. Corrie followed, carrying her own plate.

Then they heard Micah. “Bryn can stay with us if she wants to!” he yelled. “You left. You don’t get to say who can stay with us!”

Micah ran to his bedroom.

“Daddy?” Cody’s small voice brought tears to Bryn’s eyes. “Why is everybody mad?”

“It’s okay, buddy. We’re all just a little bit stressed. But it’s all good. Why don’t you show Mommy your new Transformer.”

Bob walked into the kitchen, carrying more plates.

“God, I’m so sorry,” he said, wrapping Bryn in a hug. “You know I don’t think that way, right?”

She nodded, leaning into his chest.

“I need to talk to Micah,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Bryn smiled at him. “Go help Micah.”

Bryn and Corrie rinsed dishes and began loading the dishwasher.

“What the hell is wrong with her?” Bryn hissed. “Showing up here unannounced and ruining Christmas for everyone.”

Corrie laid her hand on Bryn’s shoulder.

“It sounds like she wants to come back,” she said quietly.

“Over my dead body,” Bryn said.

“My, Bryn, that’s a pretty thought.”

They turned to see Wendy standing in the doorway, holding her coffee cup.

She walked to the counter, leaned against it, and smiled at Bryn.

“This is
my
family,” she said, staring directly into Bryn’s eyes. “Go get your own.”

Bryn brushed past her and walked swiftly down the hall, toward her room.

Corrie stood staring at Wendy for a long minute. Finally, she couldn’t stop herself.

“You have a lot of nerve! My God, Wendy, you left! You left Bob for another man! What is this, the third time? You walked out on him and on your sons. And now you just breeze in, like nothing happened? What is wrong with you?”

She stopped, shaking, when she saw Bob in the doorway.

“I need to go,” she said. She walked past Bob and headed toward Bryn’s room.

“Bryn?” she called at the door. “Can I come in?”

She opened the door and found Bryn sitting on the bed, staring at the floor.

“Are you okay?” Corrie sat down beside her.

“Yeah,” Bryn said. “She’s right, though. They’re not my family.”

Corrie put her arm around Bryn’s shoulders. “But they are your friends. And they love you. And so do I.”

Bryn smiled. “I love you, too.”

“So, how about we get out of here, at least until Wendy leaves?”

“Where should we go?”

“My house.” Corrie stood and held her hand out to Bryn. “Come on, let’s go.”

They walked into the living room to find Bob sitting alone.

“Where are the boys?” Bryn asked.

“Micah’s in his room. He’s pretty upset. Cody went with Wendy to see her parents.”

She sat on the couch beside him and took his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Bob,” she said softly.

“It’s not your fault.” He sighed and leaned back against the couch.

“Are you sure it’s all right for her to have Cody?” Corrie sat down opposite them.

“Yeah,” he said. “He’ll be okay with her parents.”

They sat quietly for a minute. Then Bob rose and walked to the kitchen. He returned a minute later, carrying a glass.

“Kind of early in the day for that, isn’t it?” Bryn said.

“It’s been a hell of a day,” Bob said, sitting back down on the couch. “I’d offer you one, but neither of you can drink.”

“I’d take a cup of hot chocolate,” Corrie said, rising. “Bryn, do you want some?”

“Sure,” Bryn said.

Corrie walked into the kitchen. Bryn touched Bob’s hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. Then, “No, not really.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I don’t understand Wendy, I really don’t. How can she say the stuff she does and just expect everything to be fine?”

“She’s like a child,” he said. “It’s magical thinking.”

“But you’re not buying it again, are you?”

“No, this time I’m not buying it. This time, it really is over.”

Bryn squeezed his hand. “You and the boys are going to be fine, you know.”

“I know. I mean, I know I’ll be okay. I’m really worried about Micah.”

“He’s pretty mad.” Bryn glanced at the doorway to Micah’s room. “But maybe that’s a good thing. I mean, his mom is a loon. And he knows it. So yeah, he’s mad. But maybe that’s a good first step toward . . . I don’t know, toward dealing with it.”

“Maybe.” Bob sighed. “I just hate that he’s so hurt.”

“At least he’s got one good parent.” Bryn smiled at him. “He’s got you. He’ll be okay.”

“Thanks, Bryn. You really are a godsend. Thank you for being here, especially today.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Well, you all are my family, in a way. Besides, where else would I be?”

43

C
orrie paced her living room that evening, watching the snow fall outside. By morning, everything would be blanketed. She’d spent most of the day with Bob and Bryn, but finally she had to come home. Home, to her beautiful but oh-so-empty house. She hadn’t even decorated for Christmas this year.

She dropped into a chair and tucked her legs underneath her. Last year, she and Mark had hosted his family for Christmas dinner. This year, they would all be gathered at Sarah’s house, cooing over the baby, playing cards, and just being a family. She loved Christmas with Mark’s family. Everyone got along; no one got drunk or mean. It was all very different from the way her childhood Christmases had been.

She remembered the year after her father died, how her mother had told her that she would not have any presents. There wasn’t enough money, she’d said, and the little bit she had she was going to use to get Caerl and Maya each a gift, since they were still so young.

Of course, Patrice had enough money for gin. That day was the first time Corrie had to help her mother up the stairs and into bed. Then she’d made scrambled eggs and toast for her little brother and sister and read them stories until they fell asleep.

She had not seen or spoken to her mother since the day she told Patrice about the pregnancy. She thought about calling sometimes, but she never did.

She sighed and resumed pacing, her cell phone in her hand. Should she call Mark? Would he talk to her? Would he even answer the phone? She’d been debating with herself all day. She wanted to hear his voice, that was all. Just to hear him. She wanted to explain that Daniel had only been there to talk about the baby, that he had not spent the night with her, that they were not lovers. She wanted him to tell her that it would be okay, that he loved her. She wanted her husband back.

Finally, she punched in his number, her fingers trembling. After the third ring, she heard his voice.

“Hello?”

“Mark, hi. It’s me, it’s Corrie.”

“Oh.” Nothing more. Just, “Oh.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting a card game,” she said. “I assume you’ve already had dinner.”

“Yeah, we’ve eaten.” He paused, then asked, “What do you want, Corrie? Are you all right?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” she said. “I miss you so much, especially today.”

He said nothing.

“And I wanted to tell you that when you came the other day and Daniel was here, he wasn’t staying here, in the house. He stayed at a hotel. We just needed to talk about the baby.”

“Whatever.” His voice was flat. “What you do and who you do it with is none of my business anymore.”

She drew a quick breath, hurting so much she couldn’t speak.

“I’m sorry, Corrie,” Mark said after a minute. “I don’t want to fight, and I don’t want to hurt you. I just can’t do this right now.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

The line went dead.

She sank into the couch and cried, letting the waves of sadness wash over her.

“I’m alone,” she said out loud. The words echoed through the room. “I’m really alone.”

And then the baby moved.

She was not, in fact, alone.

She sat up and wiped away the tears, put her hands on her belly.

“Thank you, baby,” she said. “Thank you.”

She walked upstairs and into the nursery, where she had sat and cried so many times. She touched the crib, the changing table, the dresser. She picked up a stuffed rabbit and cradled it in her arms.

“We’re going to move, baby,” she said suddenly. “We are going to find a new house to live in.”

She sat down in the rocking chair, still holding the rabbit.

“This house is just too sad,” she said. “I don’t want you to live in a house that’s so sad.”

She sat for a long time, rocking the stuffed rabbit, staring out the window at the snow. Finally, she went to bed, taking the rabbit with her.