[Annie]: 415.Short Stories.Good Evening Satan, Meet Jesus.

This story has extreme reference to my religious beliefs, so if you have a problem with that don't read this story!



The sun wasn't up when I got up. My husband was at work already. Ever since he had cheated on me, I had pushed him away. What else could I do? He broke my heart. He didn’t have sex with another woman, but he might as well have, it hurt so much. Was I right to think a kiss was cheating? I knew I was. He tried to explain a million times but I refused to listen.
I couldn't decide yet whether or not to divorce him. Was it that big of a deal? Was there already no hope for recovery? Could we ever get back to a relationship like the one we had during the first years of our marriage? I didn't think so.
I made myself some toast and gulped down a glass of apple juice. Something about apple juice is just cruel. No matter how much or how fast I drink it, I can never get enough or have my thirst quenched.  I just keep drinking and drinking until I'm bloated, and then I still feel parched.
I got ready and then went to work. While I like my job, it has lost its appeal since my husband had his affair. Everything had lost its appeal.
As I sat at my desk, nearing lunch break, my cell phone rang. It was my husband. How strange for him to be calling me at this time of day. How strange for him to be calling me at all.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Kari."
"Yes?"
"What are you doing for lunch?"
"Nothing..."
"Good, come home then."
"Ok..."
"Ok, I love you, bye."
The call ended. My husband wanted to spend lunch with me? This hadn't happened in a really long time! He said he loved me too! That hadn't happened in an even longer time! Maybe I was willing to talk about what had happened.
---
The sound of the swishing dish washer eased the awkwardness of the first few minutes at the table with my husband. He had prepared the meal. Finally he began talking; a long suppressed confession I would not have listened to just an hour earlier. For some reason though, I was able to listen and I felt I could discern truth from deceit if necessary.
I decided his apology was honest and the situation he proposed was believable. I felt a nagging in my heart to forgive him and try again. So I did. I forgave him and he cried like a baby with his arms around my waist.
---
I took a day off. It was a "me" day. I ate lasagna, ice cream, and muffins. As I sat on the couch watching cartoons, the phone rang. I knew it was a telemarketer, but I answered it.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is Kari there?"
"This is her."
"Kari! It's me, Dana!"
I was shocked. I didn't know what to say. My best friend Dana from 8th grade had slit her wrists and disappeared. Everyone thought she was dead.
"Dana? Like Dana from 8th grade?"
"Yes!"
"Wow...I don't even know what to say..."
"That's ok, I don't have time to talk right now I only wanted to see if you can go out to dinner with me tonight at about 5:30."
"Okay, where at?"
"That Chinese place on Fairview."
---
The gentle harmony of conversation and forks sank into my ears as Dana and I walked into the restaurant. We were quickly seated at a table by the wall. We talked of our past together, our pasts apart, and our present situations. We both had interesting stories to tell. The mystery of Dana’s disappearance was finally solved for me. After she attempted suicide, her parents could take no more. They set new criteria for her and went with her to counseling. At first, she wanted to try killing herself again. She met a man though, and he proposed reasons for ideas to her that she could not refute; the value of hard work, the beauty of simplicity, and the passion in love for God. She promised to have me meet him sometime soon.
We chose our food from the food bar, laughing with each other. I got chow mein, my favorite Chinese dish. When we had finished the main meal, we both rushed to the dessert corner.
Dana nudged me as I was getting an ice cream cone. She pointed to the front doors of the restaurant.
"Look over there."
I looked. A man stood with his arms crossed, as if waiting for someone. He was at least 6 feet tall, he had no hair, and his muscles looked to be about the size of coconuts.
"Wow, I wonder who the celebrity is."
"Ya." Dana answered.
We giggled and went back to our table with dessert. Just as we sat down, I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. Dana nearly choked on her jello when she saw the culprit. I looked over my shoulder. It was the body guard guy. I, unfortunately, looked right to his eyes. Then his stiff face moved and I heard his voice. It came from his mouth but the vibration from his voice box went all through his body, down his arm, and shook my shoulder.
"Do you believe in God?" he asked.
His voice seemed almost angry and filled the room like the hum of a bass guitar. Tables of people all around us got quiet and stared. I didn't know what to say. I saw something shiny in his sport coat; something like a gun. Should I say no? Could I say yes? Perhaps I could just explain; say yes in a no sort of way. I began to sweat. I knew everyone was watching and I knew we were all thinking this could be the day we die. It all depended on what I said.
I thought of my husband and our new beginning. I thought of the way a burden had been lifted from both of us after I forgave him. I thought of Dana, once my best friend, returning from the dead, finding somewhat of an understanding of life, and 30 years later managing to track me down. What was I going to say? What would the people around me say? What would you say?
"Yes, I do."