Catch Me When I Fall Read Online Free PDF

couldn’t see another way to do this. Last night I emailed Peter—who is back in Edmonton—to tell him that the wedding program was ready for printing. Maybe because the Holy Earth! deadline is approaching, he just said, “Great!” and didn’t ask me to email him the final version. I had a special copy all ready in case he did. The one I actually took to the printer this morning had been altered a bit, by about ten pages. It was easier than I thought. I kept bits of the wedding liturgy, especially the parts of “God’s Plan for Marriage” that I thought Peter would benefit from hearing. I got rid of the poems and reduced the hymns to one verse each. It was a bit tough with “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling.” I should have used the first verse, but I decided the second had a stronger message:
    Breathe, O breathe Thy loving Spirit,
    Into every troubled breast!
    Let us all in Thee inherit;
    Let us find that second rest.
    Take away our bent to sinning;
    Alpha and Omega be;
    End of faith, as its Beginning,
    Set our hearts at liberty.
    The girl in the copy centre was pleasant in a remote way. Maybe she was thinking about the conversation she was having on her cell phone when I came in. “Do you have recycled paper?” I asked.
    â€œYes, but it’s not very good quality. Not usually what people use for programs.”
    â€œI’m sure it’s fine.”
    She nodded and filled out the order form. One of the things I like about running errands in Red Deer is that nobody pokes their nose into your business.
    But when she tallied the final cost, I felt deflated. It wasn’t enough. All the changes I made hadn’t saved enough money. “Is there any paper that’s even cheaper?” I asked.
    â€œNot really.” If she was surprised, it didn’t show. “Not unless you printed on scrap.”
    â€œScrap.”
    â€œPaper that’s been printed on one side already. From a misprinting. We save that paper for test runs and stuff.”
    I thought quickly. The program couldn’t be folded or printed double-sided. “But I’d need double the amount of paper, right?”
    â€œYou’d probably want to staple the programs, which will cost a little more. But the scrap paper’s almost nothing.” She punched the calculator keys again and showed me the total. Thirty-five dollars less.
    â€œThat’s good,” I said. “Can I see what will be on the back? On the scrap side, I mean?”
    â€œYou might want to pick it. You don’t want the program printed on the back of a strip club ad or something.” She winked at me. I’ve never met someone my age who winks.
    She led me to the back of the shop and pointed to a shelf near the floor. I spent quite a while searching. “This will work,” I said. I placed the stack I had chosen on the counter. The girl raised her eyebrows but, since this was Red Deer and not Poplar Grove, said nothing.
    Then I drove along Gaetz Avenue here to the bus station. I parked and walked inside to the ticket booth. “St. Catharines, Ontario,” I said.
    And now I sit in the waiting room, clutching my ticket like a raffle prize.
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    They’ll get over my defection, eventually. Mom will have something new to be angry about and maybe she’ll make up with Peter before the wedding. Dad will withdraw even more for a while—find fences that need fixing, watch late-night TV . But they’ll recover, especially once they learn I have plans. Parents want their kids to have passions and goals. That’s why my parents tolerate Peter’s wackiness. At least it keeps him busy. At least he cares about something.
    I feel a bit bad about the program. Maybe I should have chosen something neutral for the backside of the pages. Not Steps in the Right Direction by the Alberta Seniors Taskforce. Our Seniors Deserve Better! Well, at least no one