Friday Story

Leading up to this Friday (today!) I thought I would share a section of the first novel I wrote. Yesterday was part three (pan down). Today is part four, the final installment.

The “dads,” as the girls referred to us, were required to stay on the sidewalk and not interfere in any way with the comings and goings of our three rodents. The dads were happy to comply. As we slowly traipsed his neighborhood, Wally and I had a chance to talk about the mundane things guys discuss. Football, refinancing and family topped the list but other subjects crept in and out of the conversation as well. It was nice for me because I had been conducting my life at such a dead run the last few weeks I had forgotten how pleasant it was to merely stroll and chat, even if I was talking to a large block of cheddar. The girls started to lose their steam after an hour so we manipulated their path to head them back toward home. As we walked the final block, Wally inquired if he could ask me something personal. The last time he made that request was in his car during my interview and it was followed with a question about church. I gave him permission but I also activated my defense shields.

“I don’t know if you remember this, but back when you were interviewing with us I asked if you attended church anywhere and you answered ‘not any more.’ Since you seem to get all jumpy when there is any reference to religion or faith during conversations, I was wondering if there’s a story behind that answer. Is there?”

I didn’t want to get into a long drawn out explanation at that moment, especially since we were almost back to his house. If our friendship progressed it would be unavoidable but that would come in time. I took a deep breath and offered up the abridged version, hoping it would suffice. “Yes, there is a story but it’s not that interesting. Let’s just say I tried it but it wasn’t for me.”

“And that answer did nothing but make me even more curious, but I won’t pry. I can tell it’s not something you want to talk about. Let’s get the girls home and I’ll grill us some real food. You hungry?”

“For some reason I am craving queso…”

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m a married man.”