More Than I Can Bear (9 page)

“I know, and it won't happen again.”

“I guess I'm lost, because I still have no idea what this has to do with me marrying Paige,” Norman said.

“Because she looks like those women on the television. I don't want to have to worry every night that that's what my son is dealing with. Those women are damaged goods. They carry so much baggage with them. They're hurt and full of pain and misery. Lots of them don't have fathers who stuck around and some of them have never even laid eyes on their fathers. Wouldn't know him if he was standing in front of them in the grocery store. Then there is their health. They deal with that sugar diabetes, high blood pressure, and all that weight they tend to end up carrying. Have you noticed how thick most of 'em are? Or just outright overweight? I don't want that for you; not my son. Maybe somebody else's, but not mine.”

“Mother, you're being—” Norman started.

“Wait, let me finish.” She put her hand up, cutting Norman off. “Every mother under the sun wants what is only the best for their child. Well, you are my child and I want only what is the best for you. And you have to admit it, son, Blacks aren't always granted the best treatment and opportunities. I don't want you to have to bear witness to that. All it will cause you is hurt and pain. I don't want my son having to deal with unnecessary hurt or pain, or my grandchild. Because no matter how you dice it, a mixed child is usually deemed black by society. My son, my only son,” Mrs. Vanderdale said, heartfelt, “you wouldn't have to deal with all that drama if you had a white wife. I'm sorry if this sounds racist, prejudiced, or whatever else. You know me; I've never discriminated or said a bad word about Black people. And I repeat, I don't have anything against Black people. I just have something against my children marrying Black people.” And with that, Mrs. Vanderdale sat on the couch, her eyes darting from her son to her husband as if waiting to see who would cast the first stone.

Norman's father spoke first. “Like our son, I appreciate you being honest and voicing how you feel. That took courage. But allow me to let you know that, under no uncertain terms, do I mirror your thoughts, opinion, and/or concerns. I still love you dearly. I will continue to love you, but I'll also start doing something I've never done before when it comes to you. And that's to pray.” He kissed his wife on the forehead and then exited the room, patting his son on the shoulder to show support as he left.

There was dead silence as Norman and his mother sat in the living room alone. The silence became agonizing torture to Mrs. Vanderdale. “So are you going to disown me now? Are you and your wife never going to return again? Am I never going to see my grandchild?”

Norman waited a moment before replying. “I, my wife, and our child will always return to the place I call home. Whatever that spirit is that has a hold of you will not get rid of us, but we will get rid of it. Especially now that we have Dad on our side as well. The Bible says that when two or more gather in His name, touch and agree—”

Mrs. Vanderdale put her hand up to halt Norman's words as tears fell from her eyes. “You don't have to finish. I've heard Nettie say it a million times before when I walk by her room and hear her praying.” Tears continued to spill from her eyes. “Do you know she prays for me?” She swallowed. “I guess this right here is that moment Miss Nettie's been praying about for years. I think she calls it deliverance. And here I thought she was praying my designer gowns would be delivered on time for my affairs.” Mrs. Vanderdale chuckled and Norman joined her. She looked up at him. “I'm sorry, son. I must apologize to Paige as well.”

Sensing it was genuine pain, hurt, and remorse his mother was demonstrating, Norman felt he no longer needed to make this about his feelings, but make it about his mother. He went and sat next to her on the couch.

“Mom, please.” Norman didn't want to see his mother so torn like this. “I forgive you. Please don't cry.”

“I just feel no better than my ancestors right now. Because when you mentioned the fact that Paige was pregnant, my skin just . . .”

“Well, Mom, if you'd let me finish, you would have learned that the baby Paige is carrying isn't my baby.”

“What!”

Norman couldn't tell if it was shock or relief in his mother's eyes. Nonetheless he continued to tell her the entire truth about his marriage to Paige, including the situation with her being pregnant by her abusive ex-husband.

“Can I ask you something, Norman? And please don't take this the wrong way,” Mrs. Vanderdale said. “It's not your baby, but you and Paige have decided you are going to play the role of the baby's father by signing the birth certificate and everything. This child is going to be one hundred percent African American. God forbid anything ever happens to Paige, but if it did, how on God's green earth are you going to raise a black child?”

Norman opened his mouth, but nothing came out, as that thought had never crossed his mind. And for the first time ever his mother planted a seed in Norman's mind that made him question whether he'd bitten off more than he could chew.

“Whoa, this is a lot of stuff!” Norman looked around his decent-sized two-bedroom apartment that now looked like the overflow of Babies“R”Us. Between the baby shower her mother and church had given Paige, and the one her job had just hosted today, neither of which his mother attended, he was rethinking their choice of moving into his apartment together versus Paige's house. But Paige said if she didn't want to keep the man's last name, she certainly didn't want to live in his house, so just last month, when Paige was nearing her eighth month of pregnancy, the house sold. She'd moved into Norman's place a month prior to that though. It was as if everything was lining up in divine order. Maybe the old scripture, indeed, was correct about God not putting on a person more than they could bear. What Paige initially thought was going to be way too much, God had managed to lighten the load.

“Tell me about it,” Paige huffed as she struggled to sit down comfortably on the couch. “But we got some awfully nice stuff though. And expensive. Like that stroller your sister bought—”

“No, my parents bought it. Samantha just brought it over since my mother couldn't make it.”

“Oh, yeah, that's right; her standing tea social with the ladies,” Paige said, not buying her mother-in-law's excuse for one minute. “When my mom and the church had theirs it was her standing hair appointment that kept her from coming.”

“Hey, at least she sent a gift. Let's give her some credit. Baby steps. She's trying here. Okay?”

“Yeah, you're right,” Paige agreed with a shrug. Norman had shared with Paige the conversation he'd had with his parents when breaking the news about Paige's pregnancy. Paige figured with that many folks now praying for her mother-in-law, the chains were bound to be broken eventually. Hopefully before Paige exploded and let that mother-in-law of hers know how she really felt. As far as Paige was concerned, God needed to hear their prayers and answer them quickly before she was left alone in a room with that woman.

“So do you want me to start hauling these things off to your and the baby's room?”

“Ummm, I don't know. It's already tight in there with my double bed and the crib,” Paige said.

“I told you I felt we should have just set up the bassinette for now.” He gave her an “I told you so” look.

“Husband, I think you might have been right.” When Paige referred to Norman as husband, it wasn't in a romantic way or anything like that. It was just basically his title in her life. And even though they agreed that it only made sense to live as husband and wife, who, legally, they were, they didn't share the same bed. Norman had given Paige and the baby his master bedroom and taken the guest bedroom for himself.

They'd talked of maybe getting a place together but decided to table that notion and revisit it later. A couple months before the two got married, Norman had just signed a two-year lease to receive a discount on his rent, so it wouldn't have made sense to lose all that money he'd have to pay out to his landlord for terminating his lease early. And again, Paige couldn't get out of that house she and Blake had shared as husband and wife soon enough.

“What? Should we mark this as a milestone in our marriage?” Norman said. “You saying I'm right?”

“Oh please. I've always been woman enough to admit when I'm wrong . . . eventually.” Paige and Norman shared a laugh. “Owee.” Paige grabbed her stomach.

“You okay?” Norman rushed over to her side.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” Paige lay back on the couch. Norman sat down and lifted her legs onto his lap, removed the slippers she'd been wearing, and began to massage her feet. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, I just think I overdid it a little today is all. This baby is not due for two more weeks and I need all fourteen of those days to get ready for it.”

“I hate referring to the baby as ‘it.' I wish you'd just gone on and let the doctor tell you the sex during your last ultrasound.”

“No, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Paige said. “As if life hasn't given me enough surprises.”

“Well, this is a good surprise,” Norman said while patting her feet. “Let me go make you some tea, then I'll get to putting away all this stuff ” Norman exited the living room and went and put on a pot of water to boil.

“Ouch. There it goes again.” Paige hunched over.

“What is it?” Norman came racing back out of the kitchen. “Do you think you could be going into labor?” Norman was concerned.

“No. I'm not sure what labor pains feel like, but from the way my mother described them, it would feel far worse than this.” Upon telling her parents that she was pregnant, Paige was relieved not to have to deal with the same reaction from her mother as she'd had to deal with upon telling her about the marriage. Surprisingly, Mrs. Robinson had been ecstatic that she was about to become a grandmother. Since then she'd kept Paige on the phone for at least an hour daily sharing with her the joys of motherhood. She'd made it a point to share the pains as well—labor pains, which was how Paige knew that if she was in labor, the pain would be much more severe, according to what her mother had told her.

“Well, maybe I should at least call the doctor just to make sure,” Norman suggested.

“Norman, it's Saturday. Let that doctor be. Besides, I'm feeling better already.” She got up from the couch. “I'll come to the kitchen with you to get that tea.”

Norman and Paige went into the kitchen. Paige leaned against the counter while Norman stood over the pot of water, waiting for it to come to a good boil.

“You know what?” Paige said. “Why don't we play around with some baby names? I'll list five girl names and you list five boy names. We'll both agree on the top three from each of our lists. But if it's a girl, I get to pick the name from the top three girl names and vice versa for you if it's a boy.”

“What? Really?” Norman was astonished as he placed tea bags into the two cups he'd set on the countertop. “You're going to give me that much power?”

“If it's a boy. And I'll have all the power if it's a girl. Talk about girl power.” Paige held up a fist to the sky. “Got any boy names you've been thinking of?”

“Well, Norman III of course.” He poured the boiling hot water into their cups.

“Okay.” Paige didn't dismiss it, but the fact she just nodded and couldn't look Norman in the eyes were signs of dismissal enough.

“Just kidding.” Norman decided to let her off the hook.

“You little . . .” Paige began laughing and playfully swatted Norman. “Oh my!” She grabbed her stomach.

“What is it? Is the pain back?”

“Well, no. It's just that I just now laughed so hard that I think I peed my pants.”

Both Norman and Paige looked down at the liquid streaming down her legs to form a puddle at her bare feet.

“Paige, I don't think you peed your pants. I think your water just broke. I don't care what you say.” Norman rushed over to the phone on the kitchen wall. “I'm calling the doctor.” He found the refrigerator magnet the doctor's office had given them with all the doctor's contact information on it and began to dial. “Where are you going?” he called out as he saw Paige shuffling out of the kitchen.

“I'm going to call my mama.” She looked down at the liquid still slightly flowing down her legs. “And to see if one of those packs of diapers we got as a gift is big enough to fit me!”

 

 

“It's a girl!” Norman ran into the waiting area and yelled. “The most beautiful, head full of curly hair, brown little ball of joy I've ever seen in my life.” Tears poured from Norman's eyes. It was evident that watching life come into the world had been something that had moved him beyond his wildest imagination. “She's just beautiful.”

When Norman's tears of joy started to include weeping, Mrs. Robinson went and embraced her son-in-law. “Now, now, son, it's all right. I know.”

Norman wrapped his arms around his mother-in-law, wishing that his own mother could have been there to celebrate with him. He hadn't even wasted his time phoning her. He had phoned his sister though, who had just arrived at the hospital about twenty minutes ago.

“I'm an auntie,” Samantha said. “Good job, big brother.” Samantha walked over and patted her brother on the back. Mrs. Robinson stepped away and allowed the siblings to share this moment.

“I love you, sis,” Norman told his sister. “Thank you for being here for me.”

“I'm not here for you.” Samantha pulled back and looked her brother in the eyes. “I've hated you ever since I was seven and you flushed my goldfish down the toilet to get back at me for setting that stupid hamster of yours free when you wouldn't let me feed it. You think I'm here for your ugly mug? I'm here for my beautiful niece and don't you ever forget.” A smile cracked across Samantha's lips.

“Thank you, sis. This means the world to me. You've always accepted and supported me. But this, right now, your support means more to me than anything in the wor . . .” Norman broke down and there wasn't a dry eye in the room.

Mr. and Mrs. Robinson embraced one another as they were touched by Norman's exchange with his sister. Pastor Margie and a couple other church members huddled with tears streaming down their face. Samantha fought hard to keep the tears filling her eyes from falling. When she saw it was a losing battle, she excused herself from the room, claiming she needed to go to the ladies' room.

“Son, can I talk to you for a moment?” Mr. Robinson approached Norman and asked.

“Sure,” Norman agreed, wiping the moisture from his face.

The two men stepped off to the side of the room for some privacy.

“I just wanted to let you know that I see right through you,” were Mr. Robinson's words to his son-in-law.

Norman was a little stumped by Mr. Robinson's words. “Excuse me, sir?”

“You may have everyone else fooled as to why you married my daughter, but, son, you ain't fooled me one bit.”

“Mr. Robinson, I . . . I . . .”

“And don't call me Mr. Robinson.”

Norman remembered upon meeting Mr. Robinson months ago he'd told him to call him by his first name. “I'm sorry.”

“You claimed you married my daughter because of that baby.” He pointed toward the doors where the delivery rooms were. “But that's a lie. Mr. Vanderdale, I ain't too fond of liars.”

The stern look Mr. Robinson initially had on his face did not let up, not one bit. Norman had no idea where this attitude was coming from nor why Mr. Robinson would try to steal the joy of the moment.

“Mr. Robinson—I mean, Samuel—I don't know what you're talking about.”

Mr. Robinson put his hand on Norman's shoulder. “Don't call me Samuel either. You don't have to pretend with me anymore, son. I'm on to you. This marriage to Paige wasn't all about Paige and that baby. No matter how much you deny it, there was some selfishness involved as well. I see it in your eyes. Son,” Mr. Robinson said, “you love my daughter.”

“Of course I do,” Norman said, swallowing hard.

“No, I mean you looooovvve my daughter.” He looked Norman dead in his eyes. “You are in love with my daughter.” The corners of his mouth just slightly curved up into a smile.

Norman exhaled. He was relieved. One, because he thought he was about to get beat down by his father-in-law, and two, finally, someone had taken notice and was now forcing him to confess the feelings he'd been harboring for Paige for some time now, even prior to her divorce. The look of relief that rushed across his face said it all.

“Ah, ha ha. I knew it.” Mr. Robinson clapped his hands. “But don't worry, son, your secret is safe with me. I think that's something she needs to hear from you for the first time.”

“Tha . . . thank you, Samuel.”

“Didn't I tell you don't call me that?” Mr. Robinson's voice was stern again.

“Well, sir, you said not to call you Mr. Robinson, and I can't call you by your first name. I'm, uh, not sure what I should call you.”

“Son,” Mr. Robinson said proudly, placing his arm around Norman's neck and bringing him in for a hug, “call me Dad.”