Almost Friends Read Online Free

They’ll be off to college before you know it.”
    “Wouldn’t work,” Sam said. “They’d never let me off. And if they did, they wouldn’t pay me. Can’t afford to take time off without pay.”
    “Maybe I could get a temporary job. Deena’s told me I could come work full-time at the Legal Grounds anytime I wanted.”
    “Nah, I’ll be all right. You know me, I just like having something to moan about.”
    They ambled past Dale Hinshaw’s house. Dale waved to them from the front porch.
    “Don’t stop,” Sam whispered.
    “Hey, Sam. You’re just the man I needed to see.”
    “I can’t go anywhere,” Sam muttered under his breath.
    Barbara spoke to Dale. “Perhaps it could wait until Tuesday. Sam’s off the clock right now.”
    Dale went on, oblivious. “I’ve been thinking about this Evangelism Committee we’ve got going, and I think it’s time we got a little more serious about things. I got this idea I want to tell you about.”
    “Not today, Dale,” Barbara said. “No more work for Sam today. And tomorrow’s his day off. But he’d be happy to talk with you on Tuesday.”
    A pouty look crossed Dale’s face. “One of these one-houra-week Christians, eh?”
    “He’ll see you on Tuesday,” Barbara told Dale, taking Sam by the elbow and steering him down the sidewalk. “Thereare days I’d like to choke that man,” she muttered, when they were out of earshot.
    Sam figured every member of every Harmony Friends Meeting had entertained the notion of choking Dale Hinshaw at one time or another.
    They turned the corner and approached Sam’s parents’ home.
    “It looks like they’re taking a nap,” Barbara observed.
    “Let’s wake them up.”
    They walked up the sidewalk and clomped hard up the wooden stairs to the porch. His parents stirred to life. His father stood and stretched, then sat back down on the swing, sliding over to make room for Sam and Barbara.
    “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Gloria Gardner noted.
    “It certainly is,” Sam agreed.
    “I’m glad you came by,” his mother said. “I was talking with Fern this morning about fixing up the nursery, and we wanted to know if you could help us paint tomorrow.”
    “Tomorrow’s his day off,” Barbara said.
    “It’s not like it’s church work. It’s more like helping your mother. Your father would do it, but he’s been having these bad headaches lately, and the paint fumes make it worse.”
    “Feels like someone is just peeling the skin right off my head,” Sam’s dad blurted out. He had a way of describing his headaches that gave everyone else a headache. “It’s like they’ve sawed right through my skull and started beating my brain with a hammer. Man, it hurts.”
    “I get the picture,” Sam said. “Can we change the subject?”
    “So can you help your poor, saintly mother tomorrow?” his mom asked again.
    “Well, it was my day off…” Sam said.
    “Day off! What the heck you need a day off for? You only work one day a week as it is. Boy, I wish I had a job like that,” his dad said, then adjusted his pants, which were riding up, stretched one more time, closed his eyes, and resumed his Sabbath slumber.

Four
Krista’s Dream
    S ome people come kicking and screaming to ministry; others seem born for it, slipping into it as easily as a hand slides into a silken glove. For as long as she could remember, Krista Riley had wanted to be a priest, and although her parents had always told her she could be anything she wanted, they apparently hadn’t counted on the pope’s inflexibility on that particular matter.
    As a child she would sit and watch the priest holding the host aloft, his face radiant, and she longed to do what he did. The church’s only concession was to let her be an altar girl, which placed her in the vicinity of the altar, but not close enough to satisfy; it was like sitting on the sidelines and never getting to play.
    The week she turned thirteen, her grandfather died in their living room,