The Message

The message sounded a little something like this:
"Hey, Stella, it's me...just checking in...call me if you want to talk."
Let me repeat: this was three days after my initial phone call to her. 
The answering machine recorded the time.
7:39pm.
Why is that significant, you might ask? Well, let me explain this to those of you who are not Christian or perhaps just live in a different area of the world: I have never, in my entire life, been to a Christian wake where the calling hours were any other time but 2-4 and then 7-9 pm.
Ever.
It's just something that is widely known in and around the Tri-State area, and even now when I have to attend a wake, I know that those are the calling hours.
Two to Four. Seven to Nine.
So this then begs the question: was she trying to avoid me? Did she realize that she screwed up, and then, in an effort to not address the situation head-on, did she take the wimpy way out and leave me a message when she knew I would not be home? Perhaps. I don't know. All I know is that I took note of it and cringed.
I looked at my husband.
"Are you going to call her back?" He looked at me and splayed his hands open, as if to say, I so don't know what to tell you.
I shook my head.
"I'll never speak to her again."
With that, I punched the delete button.