Two Women. Two Men. One Home.

Marisa: Rodrigo, thank you for accepting my invitation to dinner after church service. The Sabbath day is so long at home sometimes and I don’t always feel like staying there to eat.

Rodrigo: I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Church people can be funny and wonder why we’re going off together in your car after church when they know I have a wife back in Mexico, and, ideally, I should either hang out with other single men or married couples, but not with you, Marisa, a single woman. But, we don’t live in an ideal world and no one talks to me the way you do or is thoughtful enough to drive me home Wednesday after Wednesday night.

Marisa: They say that the only safe place to meet other single or married church members is at dinner parties or picnics. That way you have an excuse to get to know other women’s husbands socially, and no one raises an eyebrow, like they might be doing now if they wanted to. (There’s a knock on the door.) Hi, Candela. Nice surprise, but I don’t recall inviting you over. I didn’t even know you were in church. But I’m glad you’re here.

Candela: I had to come over. You don’t know how some people started to talk, when you left. I tried to defend you and say that you were good friends from Wednesday night services, but they insisted, that it was unnatural for you to be so kind to Rodrigo just because he’s lonely for his wife and kids in Mexico. So I told them, that I had also been invited to your house and if they wanted I could bring you both back for the film they’re showing tonight. It’s either one of Almodovar’s tamer works, or Ben Hur, or Ingmar Bergman’s Wild Strawberries. I’ve seen the last two in church film nights over the years. I’ve yet to see Talk to Her or something even more austere or light-hearted, like Volver. Who knows? Maybe someday.

Marisa: I’ve never heard of that last title? I don’t think he’s filmed it yet, or even imagined it.

Candela: Not to worry, chica. We live in an alternate universe and almost anything is possible in this one. (There’s another knock on the door.) I’ll get it; it’s probably the delivery boy. I ordered tapas from across the street. (Opens door.) Carlos! What are you doing here? Marisa, did you invite him too?

Marisa: Carlos, I hope you’re here with good intentions and don’t plan to spoil our dining plans. The last time we met was not the happiest, at least for me--for Candela, but not for me.

Carlos: I just moved into the neighborhood and saw Candela going up to your building, so I decided to follow her. I hope—Who’s this? Your new boyfriend?
Marisa: This is Rodrigo; he’s Mexican. We just came home from church. Candela suddenly joined us.

Rodrigo: Mucho gusto, Carlos.

Carlos: El gusto es mío. (The pleasure’s all mine.) Can I join you as well? I haven’t had breakfast or anything. Besides, looks like there’s too many women in here and I would balance things out.

Marsia: Ok, Carlos, you can stay for lunch, but then we’re leaving and we can’t spend too much time together. The food is almost ready. Let’s go into the dining room and catch up on news or friends in common.

Carlos: I feel kinda like the odd man out here. Three Christians against one heathen. I don’t consider myself a heathen. I believe in God, or maybe just god, in my own way, but you guys probably think of me as a heathen because of the two—

Candela: You don’t have to say another word. Carlos, what you do with your life is your own affair. We all are not insensitive to you, especially since we ourselves were perceived as heathens, or just irreligious people, some time ago. But enough about that. Let’s eat.

Carlos: I mean it’s not like I deny that God or Christ exit, it’s just that, really, I don’t have a need for them. They make no sense to me. I’m fine as I am and have been so for many years. And when I feel blue, I take walks in the park or call a friend to go out to the bars or parks to look for some way out of the black cloud that’s on its way out, I hope. (Smiles.)

Marisa: I didn’t feel a need for him either. I had my work; I had sold many properties and the only thing missing was a lasting relationship with a man, but those things take time. I was living a life crowded with incident, until I came across the strangest quote from an obscure site, http://www.perfectfuturo.com/, that said. “If you hate me, or don’t care either way about me, I still love you very much. I would like to be part of your life and I would like you to be part of mine.” It was the plainest web page I'd ever seen. The entire page was the oddest sky blue color and in large blue type were these words. I was bored so I clicked on the only other link and realized that the “me” in the story was a little known saying of Christ’s that may exist only in our alternate universe.

Carlos: Marisa, I really didn’t come here to listen to how you got religion. I saw Candela, then I got hungry, then I opened my big mouth, and now I’m sitting in church with the three of you. Not everybody cares how you found or didn’t find God. It’s not important to most people in Spain or Europe or parts of California, e.e.u.u. Besides, you believe what you want to believe and I’ll believe what I want to believe, Ok?

Candela: Carlos, I’m sorry you feel that way--that we’re here to talk religion to you. But you were the one who followed me and asked if you could stay for lunch?

Carlos: It was because I hadn’t seen you in a long time, and I wanted to surprise you, or mostly surprise myself. I still think of you, Candela, after all this time.

Rodrigo: Sorry to interrupt, but my wife’s calling on my cell phone and I may be a while. I hope things have cooled down when I get back. It’s better for our digestion, or so I’ve been told.

Candela: No, no, Rodrigo. Don’t worry. Talk to her and we’ll be in a better place when you return.