The Weight of Small Things Read Online Free PDF

probably give Mark a child, and probably would if she had the chance. She’d seen women watch her husband; she knew how attractive he was.
    What if someday he got tired of the endless disappointment? What if he decided that she was damaged goods, that he could have a child with any number of other women? What if, finally, he left?
    She thought of all the nights Mark came home late from work, all the trips he took to New York, Chicago, and Miami. Had he traveled this much when they first got married? Didn’t he used to come home for dinner every night? Was he pulling away from her, just like she always somehow knew he would?
    Dear God, she prayed silently. Thank you for my husband and my family and my friends. Thank you for my life. Please help me to be a better wife, a better daughter, a better sister and friend. Please help me to accept your will for me. Amen .
    The sun was rising when Corrie finally fell into an uneasy sleep.

4
    C orrie watched the scenery flash by and held tightly to the door handle. Mark always drove too fast on these hilly, narrow roads, sometimes pulling into the oncoming traffic lane to swerve around someone going slow. Now and then she caught a glimpse of the lake through the trees. Soon they would be on the highway and she would relax.
    “Mom really liked the bowl.” Mark’s voice broke her reverie.
    She turned to him and smiled.
    “I think your dad even liked it,” she answered.
    “Of course he did. What’s not to like?” Mark leaned over and squeezed her shoulder. “You have great taste, Cor. Dad likes everything you’ve ever gotten them.”
    Corrie watched her husband’s profile in silence. He was so handsome. Tall and broad-shouldered like his father, with the same easy, commanding air. His light brown hair turned golden in the summer, in sharp contrast to his dark brown eyes. The combination was arresting, and he never failed to turn women’s heads when he walked down the street. Corrie thought again about the redhead in accounting.
    “What are you looking at?” he asked, catching her stare. “Am I wearing my breakfast?”
    “Just admiring the view.” She laughed, looking away.
    Sometimes it still surprised her that she was married to Mark, that she had the life she’d always wanted as a child—a dream life, her mother called it. A beautiful, big house on the right side of town, money to buy nice things, the respectability she’d so longed for, everything neat and tidy. She sighed, wondering why she couldn’t just relax and enjoy it all, why she was always waiting for it to be snatched away.
    Mark caressed her shoulder. “Thanks for coming this weekend, babe. I know it meant a lot to Mom and Dad. And to me, too.”
    Corrie smiled and said nothing for a while. She thought of the reunion she had missed, wondering for the hundredth time if Daniel had been there. Would the attraction still have been strong between them? Would he still want her? Would she still care?
    She felt her cheeks grow hot and turned away from Mark to look out the window again. Why should I care if he was there? What does it matter? She shook her head angrily. I’m a happily married woman. I have a great husband, a great life . . .
    She looked again at Mark. He really was beautiful to watch, so boyish and charming.
    “How ’bout we go away next weekend?” she asked suddenly. “Just the two of us, someplace romantic?” She held her breath and waited.
    Mark looked at her in surprise and studied her face carefully for a moment. Then he smiled. “Are you sure?” he asked.
    “Yes, sure,” she said. “It’ll be fun. Can you get away from work?”
    “For a weekend with my wife? I think I can arrange that,” he said with a laugh. “Where do you want to go?”
    “How about Chicago?” she suggested. “We could take the train up on Friday and stay downtown, maybe see a show.”
    “Wherever you want,” Mark answered. He was pleased; she could tell. He reached over, gathered the hair at the back