Free The Weight of Small Things by Sherri Wood Emmons

spill down her cheeks. She didn’t even bother wiping them away. “You make it sound so easy,” she said. “You make it sound so good.”
    “I didn’t say it would be easy,” he said, stroking her cheek. “But you won’t be alone.”
    Bryn pulled away, wiping her hand across her face and sniffling. “God, can’t you just see my mother’s face? ‘No, Mom, I’m not finally marrying Paul. But I am leaving him. Oh, and by the way, I’m having a baby.’ She’d croak.” She began pacing again. “She’d finally disown me for good.”
    “Until she saw her grandchild. You’d be amazed at the difference a baby makes.”
    “You think?” She stopped pacing and stood in the middle of the room, staring toward the window. Then, abruptly, she turned to the kitchen. “I need more coffee, and then I’ve got to get to work. Aren’t you supposed to be at work now?” she asked.
    “I’m running a group session at ten. But I’ve still got some time.”
    “Well, I don’t,” she said, smiling slightly. “I’ve got a deadline to meet.”
    She walked him to the door. “Thanks for coming, Bob. You’re a sweetheart.”
    “Don’t worry, Bryn. It will be all right.”
    “Sure, I know.”
    She closed the door behind him, then went to the bedroom and began pulling her clothes from the dresser drawers.
     
    Corrie looked up from the email she was reading to see Bryn standing in the doorway of her office, suitcases in hand.
    “Hi,” she said. “Where are you off to?”
    “Can I crash at your place for a few days?”
    “You and Paul fighting again?”
    “No, I’m leaving him.”
    Corrie smiled as Bryn dropped the suitcases and sat down.
    “I mean it this time. It’s really done.”
    “Okay, sure, whatever. If you’re finally leaving him, then I’m glad. But I’ll reserve judgment for a few weeks.”
    “Witch.” Bryn laughed.
    Corrie smiled again. Then her brow furrowed. “But about staying at my house . . . it’s okay with me. But I won’t be there next week. So it’ll just be you and Mark.”
    “Where are you going?”
    “I’m going to L.A. for a story,” Corrie said, straining to keep her voice flat.
    “Kind of a sudden trip, isn’t it? You didn’t mention it the other day.”
    “What are you, my mother?”
    “No, but you hate to travel. Usually, you bitch and moan for weeks ahead of time. Now all of a sudden you’re going to L.A., and you never even mentioned it?”
    “It just came up.”
    “You’re not going to visit a certain community center in Pasadena, are you?” Bryn asked, watching Corrie’s face closely.
    “How did you know?”
    “He was talking about it at dinner last night, about you doing a story in the magazine. I told him you wouldn’t. Apparently, I was wrong.”
    “It’s a good story,” Corrie said quietly.
    “I can’t believe you! He comes into town, crooks his finger, and you go running off to Los Angeles to write about his project. God, Corrie, what is wrong with you?”
    Corrie’s cheeks reddened and her mouth set into a hard line. She sat silently for a moment, staring at Bryn. When she spoke, her voice was so soft Bryn had to lean forward to hear her.
    “You’re one to talk. Jesus, Bryn, since when have you started handing out advice? I’m going because this will be a good story for the magazine, a strong story, an important story. And if it does some good for some kids there, all the better.”
    Bryn smiled. “An important story, huh? Now where have I heard that before?”
    “Okay,” Corrie said, smiling. “He still pushes my buttons. But he’s doing so much to help people, and all I do is this magazine. I need to do something for someone, and this is a good opportunity.”
    “And are you planning to stay with Daniel in L.A.?”
    “No!” Corrie looked up, aghast. “Of course not. I’m staying at the Pasadena Hilton. I’ve already made the reservation.”
    “Does Mark know?”
    “Not yet. He’s in New York till tomorrow. I’ll tell him