More Than I Can Bear (2 page)

It was ten o'clock at night. Paige had wasted away that entire day, weeping on her living room floor. Finding out first she was pregnant and then returning home to find her divorce decree in her mailbox had been a gift and a curse, overwhelming her. The divorce decree would have been cause for a celebration had it not meant that in about five months she'd be an unwed mother. She'd give birth to a baby out of wedlock. She almost wished she never would have . . .

“Girl, don't you even think like that,” Paige kept telling herself every time the notion popped in her head that had she known she was pregnant, she would have never filed for divorce. It was bad enough that God hated divorce and she'd have to bear that cross among her Christian peers. What would they think of her now as a divorcée running around pregnant? The thought was more than Paige could bear. That thought alone kept her weak.

Just when she thought she'd found the strength to pull herself together, she'd burst out crying. Now, after taking a shower and putting on her pajamas, she lay in her bed, practically turning it into a waterbed with all her tears. She'd ignored the many calls to her cell phone until the phone had gone dead. When her landline started ringing, she was quick to take it off the hook. She wanted to be alone and wallow in her own tears. Misery didn't want company today and neither did she. But evidently someone didn't get the memo as Paige heard her doorbell ring.

“Who in the world . . . ?” Paige asked, lifting up on her elbows and looking toward her doorway. Paige contemplated answering the door but, knowing she'd been crying all day, was certain she looked a mess. Her eyes were probably as swollen as Kim Kardashian's feet during her pregnancy and as red as Kim's cheeks the day she realized her and Ray J's sex tape had leaked.

Refusing to be seen as such a complete mess and not yet ready to talk about her situation to anyone, Paige decided against answering the door and lay back down. The doorbell rang again and once again Paige ignored it. When the ringing bell turned into a pounding knock, Paige placed the pillow over her head in an attempt to drown out the annoying sound. There were a few seconds of silence and Paige was almost sure the caller had gotten the hint and left her to lick her wounds in peace. That was until she heard a rapping on her bedroom window.

“You've got to be kidding me.” Paige's emotions had done a 180 and gone from pity to pissed. She stomped over to her window and ripped the curtains back like she was imitating Norman Bates during the shower curtain scene in the movie
Psycho.
“Norman?” Paige said in surprise. She wasn't referring to Norman Bates either, but instead the Norman who had seemed to take over the role of her best friend.

“What's going on?” Norman's voice was barely audible through the window glass. “I've been calling you and texting you all day. I tried your cell phone. I tried your house phone. I knew you had to go to the doctor's today, so I've been scared to death,” Norman spat, his tone a mixture of being perturbed and worried. “I hate to say this, but if you weren't already diagnosed with a terminal illness today at the doctor's office, then I'm going to kill you, woman.”

Paige just stood there looking at Norman through the glass only wishing she'd been lucky enough to have a terminal illness. That way she wouldn't have to live with her current diagnosis . . . if that made any sense.

“Well, if you're not going to talk to me, can you at least let me in?” Norman pleaded.

“I don't feel like talking. Not tonight, Norman.”

Norman knew it had to be something serious for Paige to refuse talking to him. Paige always talked to Norman, and he to her. They were like BFFs, if guys could be considered BFFs. They had worked at the movie theatre, where Paige was his boss, over the years. Here, recently, they even attended church together. Norman and Paige had been living proof that a male and female could be friends and comingle without hooking up. In spite of Blake's accusations, Paige had never been unfaithful to him with Norman. Norman had never played any other role than that of a friend.

Paige couldn't 100 percent say there wasn't a time when she had entertained the idea of being with Norman while married to Blake. It was the first few months of her marriage when Blake was so engrossed in his job and making money that he barely had time for Paige. He'd cancel dinner dates with Paige and even fun outings. It got to the point where Blake would even suggest Paige hang out with Norman; of course that was before he started suspecting something was going on between the two. When Blake cancelled last minute on their dinner reservations at Fondue Restaurant, reservations that weren't easy to get, it was Norman who filled in. When Blake couldn't attend the Cleveland Cavaliers game with Paige, back when the King himself was still playing for the team, it was Norman who filled in.

Because Paige had felt so neglected by her husband, she was in a vulnerable state around that time. She was starting to enjoy the company of Norman a little more than a married woman should. Mentally, she was allowing herself to cross the line of just coworker/ friend. It only made things worse when she and Norman shared an accidental kiss. Then of course there was the time when they did attend the game in Cleveland, had car trouble, and ended up having to share the last available room at a hotel. Feeling neglected by Blake, Paige enjoyed being with Norman. Being next to Norman. Even being accidentally kissed by Norman. Truth be told, it could have been any man. Paige just needed confirmation that she was a woman worthy of a man's attention . . . since her own husband wasn't showing her any.

Eventually Paige pulled herself out of la-la land and realized she was treading dangerous waters with the thoughts she was having about Norman. They were able to resume their close friendship without any awkwardness. Norman had been there for Paige ever since. He was there when she ended her friendship with Tamarra. He was there the day Blake came up to their job threatening Paige. He was even there to support Paige the day in the courtroom during her hearing against Blake assaulting her. It shouldn't have surprised Paige that he'd be there for her now.

“I'm not leaving until you let me in and talk to me, Paige,” Norman warned.

“Go home, Norman, please,” Paige pleaded right back.

Norman shook his head. “I'm a white guy standing outside of a black chick's bedroom window in the hood in the middle of the night. We've probably got about ten more seconds before one of your neighbors dial nine-one-one. So either you let me in or you take that money you've been saving up for years for that Louis Vuitton luggage set and bail me out of jail.”

Norman knew just what buttons to push to open Paige's doors, literally. She sucked her teeth, threw the curtains back closed, and then marched to her front door. She unlocked it and sharply flung it open. “There. Happy?” she snapped at Norman as he stepped up onto her porch.

“Not yet,” he replied, entering her house, closing the door, and locking it behind him. “Not until you tell me what's going on with you.” He eyeballed the room for any telltale signs of what had Paige in such a funk that she'd barricaded herself in her home, avoiding all phone calls. That's when he spotted two crumpled pieces of paper on her couch. He looked to Paige then back to the couch. He did this a couple of times before Paige caught on and followed his eyes to the papers.

Paige hurriedly rushed over and retrieved the papers just in case her friend had any ideas about snooping.

“I take it those have something to do with the way you are acting,” Norman surmised.

“No,” Paige was quick to say. “They have everything to do with the way I'm acting.” Just like clockwork, the tears filled Paige's eyes and flowed down her cheeks.

“Paige, honey, what is it?” Norman asked as he approached her, resting his hands on her heaving shoulders.

Paige took in Norman's comforting hands, resting her face on one of them while closing her eyes. Norman allowed her all the time she needed to gather her thoughts. After a few seconds, Paige finally opened her eyes to find Norman's, filled with sympathy, staring into hers. Right now he was more than just her friend. He was her superman, willing and ready to take the world off of her shoulders and place it upon his. Paige knew that couldn't be done, but it touched her soul to know that if Norman could, he would. He'd proven he'd place himself in harm's way if it meant protecting her the day Blake came up to her job in an evil fit. The gelled, dirty blond–haired, tall, slinky white guy didn't stand a chance against the tall, muscular-built, 230-pound black guy he found himself nose to nose with. Still, he didn't back down until Blake was out of there. Norman was indeed that genuine friend she thought she'd never have after being betrayed by Tamarra. He was her sign that God did, in fact, have a heart after all.

“Want me to get you something to drink? A glass of water?” Norman offered.

“Only if you're going to do a Nikki Newman and put vodka in it.” Paige chuckled at her own reference to one of her favorite soap operas,
The Young and the Restless.
There were plenty of times during her lunch break she would sit and talk to Norman about the characters like they were real people. The storyline of Nikki Newman being an alcoholic and pretending her vodka was water was one of them.

“Here, sit down.” Norman escorted Paige over to the couch.

Paige sat and then stared at the documents she knew Norman was patiently waiting to be clued in on. She figured there was no need to torture her friend any longer, or herself, as she really needed to talk to someone about her situation. She picked the papers up, then handed one to Norman.

Norman took the paper and then briefly scanned it. “Your divorce decree.” A look of confusion accompanied Norman's statement. “I guess I kind of thought you would have called me over to celebrate, not be sitting here moping.” With paper in hand, Norman sat next to Paige. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

“It was,” Paige said. “I mean it is. I mean, it would have been if it weren't for this.” She handed Norman the other document.

He skimmed the second document. “Holy—”

“Didn't you just walk down the altar and get saved last Sunday?” Paige reminded Norman.

When Paige first started working with Norman at the movie theatre a few years ago, neither one of them had been into church. Paige was the first to join the Kingdom. Once she did, it kind of put a dent in her and Norman's friendship. Prior to Paige getting saved, her conversation was different and more compatible with Norman's, as the two often enjoyed conversations about dating experiences and sex. Paige getting saved came along right around the time she got promoted to Norman's supervisor. Paige began to distance herself from Norman, as the conversations he'd been used to having with her became uncomfortable to Paige in her newfound Christianity. The two ended up exchanging words when Norman accused Paige of acting “too good” to associate with him anymore.

Once Paige explained her walk with Christ to Norman, not only did he accept it and the new “trying to stay saved” Paige, he even agreed to visit her church. One visit turned into a couple more here and there. Those couple turned into a few before Norman ended up, just last week, both joining the church and the Kingdom. Paige liked to think she'd led the horse to the water on that one.

“I got saved last week, not last year. It's going to take me a minute to get rid of some of the words my vocabulary has been accustomed to,” Norman explained, still staring down at the paper regarding Paige's pregnancy. “You're pregnant. But how?” He looked at Paige.

She tilted her head and twisted her lips as if to say, “Really?”

“I mean, I had no idea you two were still . . . after he came up to the job and all. The court hearing . . . I just thought . . .” Norman threw his hands in the air and then let them drop. “Heck, I don't know what I thought.” He shook his head, stared at the paper one more time and then looked to Paige. “Please don't take this the wrong way, but what are you going to do? Are you going to go visit him in jail and tell him? Are you going to give him visitation of the baby when he gets out of jail? Joint custody?” There were dozens of other questions Norman had, but he decided to pause to allow Paige to answer the ones he'd already posed.

“I have no idea,” Paige said. “The reality of it all still hasn't set in.” She placed her hands on her stomach. “There is a frickin' baby growing inside here. A baby by a man who raped me, Norman.” Paige tightened her lips to fight off the emotion that she couldn't quite put words to. “A baby by a man who I divorced, who I never want to see again for as long as I stay black.”

Norman scrunched up his nose.

“Oh, that's just a saying some of us black folk use every now and again.”

He straightened his face out in understanding.

“Anyway, what do I do?” Paige asked Norman with all sincerity as if he were the master of her fate and whatever door he suggested she walk through, she'd do just that. She wanted to be free from the burden of decision making. She had a saying that you only have to deal with the consequences of the choices you make in life, not the ones someone else makes for you. She figured if she let Norman make her choice, she'd be off the hook in the consequence department. “Just tell me what to do, Norman, because I can't even think straight.”

Norman was silent for a moment as he put the words together in a decent order in his head before they left his mouth in any ol' fashion. “Do you want to be a mommy?”

“Of course, just not right now, and not with the seed of Satan.”

“Paige!” Norman was appalled that a mother would refer to her child as a seed of Satan, no matter how it was conceived.