More Than I Can Bear

by E. N. Joy

  Not Ryan though. He was an open book. What Paige saw would be exactly what she got. Nothing more and nothing less. “I know how women are,” Ryan had told her on their first date. “You might as well tell them everything or don’t tell them anything at all. Either way they’ll swear up and down you’re hiding something from them. So I just choose to keep it one hunid out the gate.”

  “That’s all good,” Paige had replied. “But I hope you don’t mind if I spoon-feed you. Sometimes less is more. Besides, if I told you absolutely everything about me so soon, that would take all the fun out of the getting to know each other stage.”

  “No, it won’t. It will just mean that the past will be laid out on the table and we can get on to making a future . . . together.”

  Paige loved how Ryan never even had to think about what he wanted to say to her. It was like the words were just right there on the tip of his tongue waiting to spill out. And every word Ryan spoke to Paige felt like Bible to her. He couldn’t make up a lie that fast if he wanted to, she had told herself. And even if he could, Paige could sit and listen to his lies all night, and that included tonight.

  “Shall we?” Ryan said, extending his bent arm for Paige to loop her arm through. She did just that and he escorted her over to the hostess booth. “My party has arrived,” he told the two chatting hostesses who stood behind the podium.

  Paige smiled a huge smile. The way he strutted her over there, one would have thought he was escorting Miss America down the runway. She felt so wanted and desired.

  “Party of two,” one of the hostesses said while grabbing two menus. “Right this way.”

  Ryan released Paige’s arm and instead guided her with his hand on the small of her back. She hoped to God the tingling electric sensation going through her body did not transfer to his hand. Or perhaps it was actually an electric current running from his hand to her back. She had no idea. All she knew was that their energy flowing together felt right.

  The hostess sat the couple at a table and their waitress did a follow-up by taking their drink orders. Ryan ordered a glass of wine while Paige, who didn’t drink alcohol, ordered a Coke product. Ten minutes later they were sipping their drinks, had given their food orders, and were partaking in an engaging conversation as always.

  “You know, we’ve been getting to know one another for a couple months now. I know that’s not a long time, but it’s been long enough and I’m just surprised that there’s something you haven’t yet offered.”

  All of a sudden the pit of Paige’s stomach felt like someone had hidden an Easter egg that nobody ever found and now years later here it sat rotting in Paige’s belly. So Mr. Playa Playa was just trying to be smooth all along. All the while Paige thought he had really been trying to get to know her, and what he’d really been trying to do is get in her—

  “And here are your entrees,” the waitress said, setting their requested meals in front of them. “Is there anything else I can get you right now?”

  “No, I’m fine,” Ryan said.

  “No. Maybe a doggie bag here in a minute because I think I’m about to lose my appetite.” Paige folded her arms.

  “Okay,” the waitress said in a sing-song voice with a look on her face like she needed to get out of the line of fire and fast. She had obviously walked into the middle of something and now she wanted to disappear as quickly as she had appeared. “I’ll be back to check on you guys in a bit. Enjoy your meals.” She shot them a quick fake smile and then hurried off.

  “What was that about?” Ryan asked. “That little comment you made to the waitress about losing your appetite. Did I do something wrong? Say something wrong?”

  “No,” Paige said, shaking her head. Not yet.

  “Okay. Just checking,” Ryan said before blessing their food and then taking a bite of his steak. “Anyway, like I was saying before the waitress brought our food . . .” He paused and chewed.

  “Yeah, what were you saying?” Paige said, anxious for him to finish sticking his foot in his mouth. He’d already had a taste of his toes.

  “Well, we’ve been hanging out for a bit and I’m just surprised that there’s something you haven’t yet offered.” He took in a forkful of his potato and chewed while staring at Paige. She ’bout hoped he choked on it before he could get out the words she knew he was about to say. What she didn’t know was exactly just how Mr. Smooth Operator was going to word it. “You haven’t offered me an invitation to your church.”

  Paige’s mouth dropped. “Is that it? Is that what you’ve been expecting from me? An invitation to my church?” She burst out laughing.

  “Am I missing something?” Ryan asked, cutting into his steak. “Was there something else I should have been expecting after two months?” Before two seconds could even pass Ryan caught on. “Ohhhhhhh. I get it. You thought . . .” Within seconds both Paige and Ryan were laughing hysterically at Paige’s assumption.

  Paige’s subconscious drifted back to the time she thought Norman was telling her she was hot-as in looks. She’d felt more like he was laughing at her than with her. But with Ryan, she knew he was laughing with her. There were no doubts in her mind that he was for her and not against her; not that she ever felt Norman was against her. Then again she’d never felt Blake was against her and yet he’d been her greatest enemy. But life was good. Life was fresh. Life was new and no remnants of her past would be permitted—the good parts or the bad. And she certainly wouldn’t compare Ryan to any other man in her life—the good or the bad.

  Paige wanted something different with Ryan, something she’d never had before. Something she never even prayed for, asked for, or wanted. She wanted God to surprise her. She liked surprises. And as she melted in Ryan’s laughter, eyes, and conversation, she just hoped the surprise was all good. She’d had enough bad ones to last a lifetime.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  “Paige, honey, I’ve been calling you all morning. Maybe you just had a later night than you anticipated and are still sleeping. But it’s almost two o’clock in the afternoon and I haven’t heard from you. I just wanted to make sure we were still on to take the girls to the park. They woke up first thing this morning talking about it.” Mrs. Robinson chuckled as she left a message on Paige’s voicemail. “Please call me just as soon as you get this message.” Mrs. Robinson ended the call, but stared at the phone.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Oh God!” Mrs. Robinson almost jumped out of her skin when her husband approached her from behind.

  “You okay? I didn’t mean to scare you. What’s going on? Why are you so jumpy?”

  Mrs. Robinson turned around and looked into her husband’s concerned eyes. Hers, filled with worry, stared back at him.

  “Sweetheart. What’s going on? What’s that look for?”

  “Nothing, I hope.” Mrs. Robinson walked away just a few feet. She cupped her chin with her index finger and thumb as she thought.

  “What do you mean you hope?”

  She turned back around to face her husband. “Well, it’s almost two o’clock and I haven’t heard from Paige. That’s not like her. She would have at least checked on the girls by now.”

  Mr. Robinson thought for a moment. “Yeah, she usually would have.” That was true. Anytime Paige had left the girls with her parents, even if it was just for a couple of hours, she would call to check on them. “When’s the last time you talked to her?” Now Mr. Robinson was somewhat concerned.

  “She called me last night during dinner with Ryan. She sounded all giggly and giddy.” Mrs. Robinson paused. “Do you think . . .” Her words trailed off. “No.” She shook the thought out of her head.

  “No, honey, go ahead and say it. Do I think what?”

  “Do you think that maybe he gave her something?”

  “Something like what?”

  “That stuff. That stuff people put in people’s drinks so that they can take advantage of them? That could explain why she was all giggly and stuff like a schoolgirl.”


  “Umm.” Mr. Robinson shook his head. “Although we’ve never met this Ryan fella yet, the Vanderdales have. I’m sure they would have noticed something fishy about him. The fact that he’s met some of her family alone would scare him off from doing any nonsense like that. We know who he is and where to find him.”

  “Do we really? What’s his last name? Where does he live? What’s his phone number? Oh God!” Mrs. Robinson began pacing and biting her nails.

  “Come on now, Susie. Calm down. You’re thinking the worse. It’s all that ID channel business that’s got you stirred up.”

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Mrs. Robinson agreed, knowing she was a true ID channel addict, intrigued by the evil that existed in this world. “I’m sure the Vanderdales could get a hold of him if we needed to. But we don’t need to, right? Because Paige is safe and sound, sleeping in like a baby. And can you blame her? Those two girls are a handful.” Mrs. Robinson tried to talk herself down from her worry high.

  “Speaking of which, why don’t you head back into the kitchen and finish getting the stuff packed for the picnic. I’ll wait out here to let Paige in, because I’m sure she’ll be pulling up any minute.” Mr. Robinson went and kissed his wife on the forehead for reassurance.

  “Okay. I better get back in that kitchen. Those two are probably covered in peanut butter and jelly by now.” She laughed and then reluctantly headed back into the kitchen, even though everything in her wanted to pick up the phone and call her daughter again, but she remained strong and didn’t.

  After going back into the kitchen and packing up the picnic, Mrs. Robinson sat the girls in front of the television, where her husband was sitting in his chair reading the newspaper and watching CNN.

  “Do you mind if I put on a cartoon channel for the girls?” she asked her husband, who was more focused on the newspaper.

  “Oh, no, I don’t mind at all,” Mr. Robinson replied.

  “But we don’t wanna watch TV. We want to go to the park,” Adele said, looking like a brown mini Paige.

  “Yeah, ’cause I’m riding the big girl swing today,” Norma said, looking like a fair-skinned version of her big sister.

  “I know, and we are,” Mrs. Robinson assured them. “But we have to wait on Mommy. Remember I told you that in the kitchen? Now let’s watch some cartoons. That Mickey Mouse sure is something isn’t he? And Tweety Bird, she is just darling.”

  “Tweety Bird is a he,” Adele said.

  “Nuh, un. It’s a girl bird,” Norma begged to differ.

  Adele laughed at her sister. “Tweety Bird is a boy bird, isn’t that right, Grandpa?”

  Mr. Robinson lowered the paper and looked to his wife for an answer. She shrugged.

  “Tweety Bird is whatever you want it to be,” was Mr. Robinson’s reply.

  “Yeah, just like God. God can be black or God can be white,” Adele said.

  “Yeah, just like God,” Mr. Robinson said, then quickly turned his attention back to his newspaper before his granddaughters could drag him into another one of their debates.

  The girls sat and watched two cartoons before Adele finally spoke up again. “I’m done watching cartoons. Time for the park.” She stood up as if what she’d said was final.

  “Yep, time for the park,” Norma concurred.

  Both Mr. and Mrs. Robinson stared at each other.

  “Okay, let me call your mom again.” Mrs. Robinson stood up and walked over to the phone and dialed Paige’s number. It rang and rang and rang until it dumped her into voicemail. This was the case for both her cell and land line. Once again, Mrs. Robinson left a message. “Paige, this is not like you at all.” This time around Mrs. Robinson sounded more perturbed than worried. Maybe she was just so worried it was making her mad. Nonetheless, she left her message. “These girls have been waiting patiently to go to the park. It’s going on three o’clock. I don’t think your father and I can hold them off any longer. Besides, the sandwiches are going to get soggy. Just meet us at Blacklick Park. I’m sure you’ll find us on the big girl swings.” Mrs. Robinson let out a small laugh that didn’t do too good of a job at hiding the worry that was seeping back into her voice. “See you soon. Love you.”

  Mrs. Robinson hung up the phone, and before turning around to face her husband and grandchildren, she wiped away the lone tear that slid down her face. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Mother’s intuition.

  “Do you want to drop by Paige’s house before we head back home?” Mr. Robinson had asked his wife as they packed up the car after spending two hours at the park with the girls.

  Mrs. Robinson thought for a moment. “No, no. Let’s just go home.” Of course she wanted to go to her daughter’s house to see what was going on. But once scene after scene of episodes from the ID channel popped into her head where family had found their loved ones dead, the last thing she wanted to do was have her grandchildren there to witness something bad.

  “Grammy, did you see me on the big girl swing?” Norma asked excitedly, but got no response. “Grandma, did you?”

  “Huh, what?” Mrs. Robinson said, snapping out of her thoughts about her daughter.

  “Did you see me on the big girl swing? I went wayyyyyyy high.”

  Mrs. Robinson didn’t want to lie to her granddaughter, but she did anyhow. “Yes, Grandma saw her big girl.” She hadn’t though. She’d been too busy looking around, hoping, and praying she’d see Paige walk up to them at the park. That never happened. The same way she had spent the last two hours thinking about Paige’s whereabouts, she spent the twenty-minute ride home doing the same thing.

  When Mr. Robinson pulled up into the driveway, Mrs. Robinson barely let him put the car in park before she went barreling out of the car and into their house. The first thing Mrs. Robinson did was go over to the phone and check her messages.

  “You have twenty unheard messages,” the automated system said. Mrs. Robinson sucked her teeth. She’d wished she’d listened to her husband a long time ago about checking and clearing out the messages on the voicemail. Mrs. Robinson wasn’t a big talker and didn’t really have people she spoke to on a regular basis, so she hardly was ever on the phone. But when Mr. Robinson missed a doctor’s appointment they both had forgotten about and would have been reminded of had they checked the messages and heard the reminder call from the doctor, they could have avoided the fifty dollar no-show fee they’d been charged by the doctor’s office.

  Mrs. Robinson had promised to do better with checking messages, but that was months ago. So now here she had to go through about fifteen minutes’ worth of messages to see if Paige had tried to call. And after going through about sixteen messages, Mrs. Robinson came to one that nearly made her heart skip a beat. She listened intensely. Just to make sure she’d heard the message correctly, she listened again. “Oh, God. Oh my God! Samuel!” she called out to her husband. “Samuel!”

  When Mr. Robinson, who had been in the kitchen with the girls unpacking the picnic items, made his way to his wife, he found her standing there trembling with the phone in her hand. She was shaking so badly he thought the phone would shake right out of her hand. “What is it, honey?” He walked over to her and took the phone.

  “Listen. Listen to the message,” Mrs. Robinson pleaded.

  Mr. Robinson placed the phone to his ear and replayed the message. He was speechless as he removed the phone slowly from his ear. “Oh, my God. When did we get this message?”

  Mrs. Robinson hated to say. “Two weeks ago.” Tears poured from her eyes as she kicked herself for not keeping her word and checking the voice messages regularly. Now because of it, Paige could be in trouble.

  “If this message is two weeks old, then that means he’s already out,” Mr. Robinson said in horror. “He’s already been released.”

  “That means he’s been out of jail a week already.” Horror covered both Mr. and Mrs. Robinson’s faces. “He’s got my baby,” Mrs. Robinson said. “They done let that man out of jail and he went and fini
shed what he started. Oh, God. He’s done something to our daughter; I just know it!”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” With a piece of paper crushed inside each one of Paige’s fists, she looked up to the heavens and cried out. Tears streamed down her face like a flowing river that had no ending place. If her eyes could shoot darts, she’d aim them at God’s heart . . . if He even had one. As far as Paige was concerned, if God had a heart for her and He loved her as much as the Bible had professed, then why would He do something like this to her heart? Why would God tear it up into a million little pieces and serve it up to Satan on a silver platter . . . time and time again?

  Paige sat on her bed and uncrumpled each document she held in her hands. She flattened one out and then the other. Her eyes went back and forth from one to the other. “God, you are supposed to be my joy. I know that no man can steal my joy, but I never once thought you’d take back something you gave me . . . and to take it back so quickly.” Paige snickered. “Then again, I guess your Word does say that the Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away.” She shook her head. “Guess some of these folks are right complaining about how the Bible contradicts itself.” Paige balled her fist tight, closed her eyes tight, and screamed at the top of her lungs like she was about to explode. “My entire life is a contradiction. I don’t trust joy anymore.” She opened her eyes looking upward. “I don’t trust you.” Tears spilled endlessly from Paige’s eyes. Time and time again Paige had given her trust to God, but it seemed as though time and time again, He let her down. Well this was it. No more of that on-again and off-again crap with the Almighty. It was over between them. Trust was the most important thing in a relationship. No trust, no relationship. God had shown Paige exactly who He was. Well she believed Him. He was a man . . . woman . . . being . . . whatever that couldn’t be trusted—ever!