Authors: Sherri Wood Emmons

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #General, #Psychological

The Weight of Small Things (23 page)

BOOK: The Weight of Small Things

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O
n New Year’s Eve, Corrie and Bryn made pizzas while Bob and the boys built an elaborate structure with Legos. Then they ate in front of the television, watching
Elf
. Cody lay with his head in Bob’s lap. Micah sprawled on the floor, occasionally adding a new brick to the Legos building.

The phone rang at eight o’clock.

“Hello, Wendy,” Bob said. “What’s up? Sure, you can talk to them.”

He handed the phone to Cody.

“Hi, Mommy! It’s a new year almost. Did you know that?”

He wandered into the dining room, chattering about the movie and the Legos.

Then, “Yeah, she’s here.”

Bryn’s spine stiffened.

“Hey, buddy.” Bob reached for the phone. “Let’s give Micah a turn to talk.”

Cody told his mother good-bye and handed the phone to Bob.

“I don’t want to talk to her,” Micah said loudly, refusing to take the phone from Bob.

“Okay,” Bob said soothingly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He took the phone into his bedroom and closed the door. A few minutes later, he returned.

“Everything all right?” Bryn asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “She wants to take the boys to a movie tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to go with her,” Micah said firmly. “I’m supposed to go to Matt’s tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you want to go with us?” Cody asked.

“It’s okay,” Bob said again. “If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to go.”

“But why don’t you want to go?” Cody asked again.

“Because she’s a bad mom! She left us because she wanted to be with Luke.”

“Shhh.” Bob sat beside Micah on the floor and wrapped his arms around the little boy. “She’s not a bad mom. At least, she’s not trying to be a bad mom. She just . . . sometimes your mom makes mistakes. But she does love you. You know that, right?”

“If she loved us, she wouldn’t have left.” Micah’s voice was firm.

“But she wants to come back,” Cody said. “So that means she does love us, doesn’t it, Daddy?”

Bob switched off the television and sighed, pulling both of his sons onto his lap.

“Okay, look,” he said. “Your mother does love you. She loves you both very much. I think she just doesn’t love me very much. She didn’t want to leave you. Remember, she took you with her at first, until I told her she couldn’t anymore. Not while she was with Luke, anyway.”

“She’s a whore!” Micah spat the word out.

“Micah! Don’t you ever say that about your mother! Where did you even hear that word?”

“Dillon told me,” he said. “He said that’s what Mommy is, because she was sleeping in Luke’s bed and they’re not married.”

Corrie rose. “I’m going to make some cocoa,” she said.

“I’ll help,” Bryn agreed, following her into the kitchen.

In the living room, they could hear Bob talking softly to the boys.

“First, that is a very bad word. It’s not a word I want you to use, ever. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Second, your mom has made some bad decisions, but she is not a bad person. She loves you and she will always be your mom.”

“What’s a whore?” Cody asked.

“It’s something we’ll talk about when you are older,” Bob said. “Right now I just want to make sure you guys know that your mom loves you very much.”

“Can she move back in with us?” Cody’s voice was small.

“No, Cody. She is not going to move back in with us. Mommy and Daddy are getting divorced. But you will still see her, and she will always be your mother.”

“Are you going to marry Bryn?” Cody asked.

Bob laughed. “No, buddy, I’m not going to marry Bryn. She’s my friend, but she’s not going to stay here forever. You know that, right?”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s going to get a house of her own.”

In the kitchen Corrie watched Bryn closely.

“You okay?” she asked quietly.

Bryn nodded.

“Who wants cocoa?” she called, carrying a tray of mugs into the living room.

They watched the rest of the movie and Bob put the boys to bed, Micah complaining vigorously that he should be allowed to stay up until midnight.

“Whew,” Bob said, flopping down on the couch after he’d turned out the lights in the boys’ rooms. “What a night.”

“I think you handled it really well,” Corrie said.

He just shook his head. “I can’t believe he called her a whore!”

They all started laughing then, softly at first, then more loudly.

“You should have seen your face!” Bryn sputtered.

“And then Cody asking, ‘What’s a whore?’ ” Corrie said. “Priceless.”

“Who knew I would ever have to tell my seven-year-old that his mom isn’t a whore.” Bob shook his head again.

“Maybe you should take Micah to see a counselor,” Corrie said. “It might be good for him to vent a little.”

“Maybe,” Bob agreed. “I still can’t believe this is my life. You know what I mean? I had a life with a woman I loved and we had two beautiful kids, and now she’s gone. Just like that. And I’m a single dad. It’s not what I expected, you know?”

“Yeah,” Corrie said. “I’m right there with you. I had a wonderful marriage, and now I’m going to be a single mom. Of course, your situation is not your fault. Wendy’s the one who left. Me, I brought this all on myself.”

“Stop it!” Bryn stood and put her hands on her hips. “We are not going to spend New Year’s Eve throwing ourselves a pity party. We are young, we are healthy, we have jobs, you have two great kids.” She nodded at Bob. “And you and I are both going to have babies this spring!” She smiled at Corrie.

“You’re right,” Bob said. “No more sob stories.”

Corrie smiled at them both. They really did seem like an old married couple.

“I think I’m going to head home,” she said, rising.

“But it’s only nine o’clock,” Bryn protested. “You’re not staying till midnight?”

“No.” Corrie put her coat on. “I’m really tired, and my feet are sore, and I just want to go to bed.”

“Okay.” Bryn hugged her friend. “Drive carefully. It’s amateur night, you know.”

Corrie looked at her quizzically.

“You know, the night the amateur drinkers are out in force.”

Corrie laughed. “I’ll be careful.”

“Thanks for coming,” Bob said.

“Thanks for having me.”

When she’d gone, Bob and Bryn settled on the couch.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” he asked.

“Okay, but first I’m going to make some popcorn.”

“You just had half a pizza!”

“Hey, I am eating for two.”

“Yeah, you and Orson Welles.”

She swatted his head as she walked into the kitchen.

O
n New Year’s Day, Bryn was reading a magazine on the couch when the door opened and Wendy walked in.

“Are you always here?” Wendy asked, glaring at her.

“Do you ever knock?” Bryn spat back.

“Hey.” Bob emerged from the hallway. “Cody’s just getting his jacket.”

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Wendy smiled at Bob, tilting her head slightly. “It will be more fun if we go as a family.”

“No,” Bob said. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

“More important stuff than spending time with your kids?”

Bryn stared down at the magazine intently, wishing she were anywhere else.

Bob’s voice was low and angry. “Wendy, I am not playing this game with you. You want to see Cody and he wants to see you. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“What about Micah?”

“I told you last night, he already had plans today.”

“And you just let him go, even though you knew I wanted him today?”

“He didn’t want to go with you.” Bob’s voice shook slightly. “I don’t think you have any idea what he’s going through, how mad he is that you left.”

“I’m sure you’ve just been filling his head with poison.” Wendy was shouting now.

“Daddy?”

They turned to see Cody standing in the dining room.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Bob scooped him into a hug. “Mommy’s here to take you to lunch and see a movie.”

Cody looked anxiously from one parent to the other. Wendy smiled at him.

“Come on, baby,” she said, stretching out her hand. “Let’s go see a movie.”

Cody walked to his mother and took her hand.

“I’ll have him back by five,” Wendy said, and they left.

“God! She is such a witch!” Bryn’s voice shook. “How can she stand there and make you out to be the bad guy? I don’t know how you can stand it.”

Bob shook his head and sat down. “I feel kind of sorry for her, actually.”

Bryn stared open-mouthed.

“I do,” Bob insisted. “She’s lost her kids. She’s lost her home. She left everything because of a dirtbag, and now she’s lost him, too.”

“Well, I don’t feel sorry for her at all. She’s the one who left. And she doesn’t even see what she does to the boys.”

“Yeah, she’s not the greatest mother in the world.”

He smiled ruefully at Bryn. “I’m sorry you got stuck in the middle today.”

She shrugged. “I could have gotten up and walked out, I guess. But I didn’t want to leave you alone with her.”

He laughed. “She’s a spoiled, selfish child, but she’s not dangerous. She’s just Wendy.”

“I didn’t mean she was going to kill you or anything. I just . . . I want you to know I’m on your side. Always.”

“Thanks, Bryn. That means a lot to me.”

He rose and ran his hand through his hair. “What are you going to do today?”

“You’re looking at it.” Bryn raised the magazine. “It’s too cold to go out.”

“Do you want to help me with something?”

“Sure.” She laid the magazine on the table. “What are we doing?”

“I need to go through a bunch of stuff in the attic, pull out Wendy’s stuff and box it up for her. I’ve been meaning to do it for a long time, but I just keep putting it off.”

“Okay, let’s do it.” Bryn put on her tennis shoes. “It’ll be easier if you have company.”

They walked up the stairs and Bob unlocked the attic door.

“Wow!” Bryn drew a quick breath. “This is an awesome space! I can’t believe you don’t use it for anything. The light is incredible.”

“We always talked about doing a playroom up here, but we never got around to it.

“You seriously should do something with it. This room is amazing.”

He smiled. “It’s amazingly dusty, that’s for sure.”

They began at one end of the room, opening boxes and making piles—one of things to stay and one of things to go. And a separate pile for things Bob wasn’t sure about.

“God, look at these.” Bob held a photo album out to her. “Look how young we were.”

“And how goofy.” Bryn laughed at the picture of Bob and Wendy, Corrie and Daniel, and she and a boy whose name she couldn’t remember, all sitting on top of a cannon in the town square.

They carried the album to the window and flipped pages.

“There’s Paul. Look how young he was! God, he was just a little older then than we are now. I thought he was so grown-up and sophisticated. Turns out he’s the least grown-up adult I know.”

“I love this one of Corrie and you.” Bob smiled at the picture. “You look like you’re about to break into song.”

He turned the page and stopped.

“My dad took this one the day Wendy and I got engaged,” he said softly.

“You look happy,” Bryn said, looking down at the picture of Bob with his arm around Wendy’s waist, both of them smiling at the camera.

“I was,” he said. “I thought the best part of my life was about to begin.”

He stared at the picture for a long minute before closing the album.

“Okay, I guess this stays.” He put the album in a pile.

“Do you still love her?” Bryn didn’t mean to ask the question, but it slipped out before she could stop herself.

“In a way, I guess.” Bob sat down on the floor next to the “keep” pile. “I mean, she was the first girl I ever loved, the first girl I ever slept with. She was my wife for almost ten years, and she’s the mother of my children. I can’t just erase all that.”

“She’s the first girl you slept with?”

“First and only.”

“Seriously? You’ve never had sex with anyone but Wendy?”

“I know, pretty sad, right? But we were all of seventeen when we started dating and then we got married.”

“I think it’s sweet.”

He just laughed.

“Oh, wow,” Bryn said, opening a box. “Look at all the records! There must be a hundred here.”

“Those were my dad’s,” Bob said, grinning. “Wait right there.”

He walked to the other end of the room and opened a cabinet.

“Here!” He sounded triumphant.

“A record player? Seriously, you have a record player? Does it work?”

“I think so.” He carried the turntable to an electrical outlet and plugged it in.

“What do you want to hear?”

“Oh, we have to play some disco! I mean, it’s a record player.”

Bryn handed him an album by the Bee Gees, and watched while he placed the needle on the vinyl. The record popped and crackled for a second, and then the pulse of “Stayin’ Alive” filled the attic.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Bryn was on her feet in a moment, dancing to the music and singing along. Bob watched her, grinning widely.

“Come on!” She grabbed his hand. “Dance!”

And so they danced until they were out of breath. And then they danced some more. And then the pace changed and they were listening to “How Deep Is Your Love?”

“Uh oh,” Bryn teased. “A slow one. Are you going to slow dance with me?”

He hesitated just a second, then took her in his arms and began swaying with her to the music.

Bryn leaned into his chest, her arms draped around his neck. She was surprised at how nice it felt just to be held. She’d forgotten the thrill of dancing with someone new, even if the someone new wasn’t completely new.

They moved around the attic, Bob humming along with the music. Neither spoke.

When the song was over, neither of them let go. They stood close together, arms around each other, for a long minute. Finally, Bryn took a step back and looked up at him.

“Thanks,” she said. “That was fun.”

He leaned forward and kissed her then, not a friendly, just-pals kind of kiss. A real, open-mouthed, heated kiss. And for just an instant, she kissed him back.

Then she pulled away abruptly.

“No,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He turned from her, his cheeks reddening.

She took his hand and made him turn around.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to kiss me,” she said.

“Then what?”

“You’re still married to Wendy. You said just a while ago that you still love her. You’re in a bad place right now. I can’t be your rebound.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.”

“I know.” She smiled at him. “You would never do that on purpose. But trust me on this, I would be a rebound. And I just can’t do that right now.”

He walked to the window and said nothing for a minute. Then, he turned back to face her.

“I don’t think that’s it, Bryn. I mean, I know it might seem that way. But having you here the last few months, it’s been great.”

“For me, too.” She sat down on a box. “It’s been a lifesaver for me. But you’re married, Bob. More than that, you’re still in love with your wife.”

He sat down on the floor by her feet.

“I know,” he said softly. “But this feels so . . . right. You and me, we just work.”

Bryn watched him, her heart pounding hard.

“If you still feel that way after the divorce—and I don’t mean right after the divorce, I mean after a while—then we’ll think about it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s really okay. I’m in a weird place, too. I mean, I’m pregnant and facing raising a child alone. Part of me wants to grab hold of you and hang on for dear life. But I can’t.”

“Why not?” He looked up at her. “Seriously, why not?”

“Okay,” she said steadily. “You’re the counselor. You should know this. We’re both going through hard transitions. How many rebound relationships survive?”

“I guess,” he conceded.

They sat for a minute, then Bryn rose and dusted off her jeans.

“I think we’ve made a dent here,” she said, nodding to the piles on the floor. “I’m ready for a shower.”

She left him in the attic, still sitting on the floor.

BOOK: The Weight of Small Things

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