Paige Rewritten by Erynn Mangum Page B

me.
    Rick is in the kitchen, Claire in one arm and a cup of coffee in the other hand. Rick is a big, big man with a bald head, which makes him both a cool yet somewhat threatening figure. Perfect for a youth pastor. “Dude, I almost wore that shirt.”
    I look down at my outfit. This is Rick and Natalie’s house. So I wore my most comfortable jeans, which are also full of snags and fades and holes, my favorite T-shirt from youth camp last summer that I chaperoned on, and my slippers.
    â€œAw, you should have called her.” Natalie lifts the lid on the slow cooker on the counter, sending a plume of delicious, meaty-filled steam up into the room.
    â€œI’ll just have to do that next time. So. Paigey.”
    Anytime Rick adds a y to my name, it’s bad.
    â€œNo,” I say.
    â€œCome on. You haven’t even heard what I was going to say.”
    â€œI don’t need to. The answer’s no. And I’ve been working really hard to learn how to say that word, so give me points on saying it so well a second ago.”
    â€œI thought your diction was perfect,” Natalie says.
    â€œThank you.” I nod graciously because no one really likes an overly proud person.
    â€œI need you, Paige.”
    I sigh and give him a resigned look before pushing him and Claire out of the way so I can get the silverware out of their drawer. “Need me to do what exactly?”
    â€œIntern. At the church. It’s a paid position. Probably more than what you are making now answering phones and kicking the copier.”
    Rick and Natalie know all about my copier issues.
    â€œIntern,” I repeat, dubiously, setting the table. “What exactly does that entail?”
    â€œYou would be at my beck and call any and every minute.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAgain. I just can’t get over how well you say that word.” Natalie pushes a cookie sheet with a store-bought bread loaf on it into the oven.
    â€œI told you, Nat, I’ve been practicing.”
    She nods. “It’s just amazing.”
    â€œOkay, how about only the minutes included in forty hours a week?” Rick bargains.
    â€œRick.”
    â€œPaige.”
    â€œLook.” I finish setting the table and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m barely back to having time to myself. I’ve just barely started doing my daily devotions again, and I’ve got major personal issues at the moment.”
    â€œAll of my stuff is on the top shelf in the cabinet above the toilet,” Natalie tells me, not even looking at me as she pulls plates out. “Help yourself.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œTampons. Pads. I think I even have a couple of pantyliners in there.”
    I shake my head. “Not those kind of personal issues.”
    â€œOh. Well. You know for future reference.”
    Rick is waiting for me to continue, sipping his coffee.
    â€œCan’t do it, Rick.”
    â€œLet me just ask you to think about it, Paige. You’d be perfect for the job. You already teach the high school girls. And it requires a lot of counseling type of work with the girls one-on-one, and that would give you the opportunity to use your major that you worked very hard for and don’t currently use.”
    I just sigh at him. “Well played.”
    â€œI’ve been holding that card for a while.” He grins all self-satisfyingly, sipping his coffee, cradling his sleeping daughter, and I just smile at him.
    â€œYou look happy,” I say. I like seeing Rick and Natalie like this. Content. Settled. The baby is a natural part of their home now. For weeks I’d come over here and all I’d hear about was their fears about parenthood while Natalie’s stomach stretched and grew. Then Claire was born and didn’t ever sleep, and I came over to find a sobbing girl in the fetal position while Claire looked on.
    Natalie finally pulls the bread from the oven and puts the pot roast on a platter. We