“How old are you, young man?” Grandma Lucy asked West. The old woman hadn’t left their side since Justine headed to the gate with her son.
“I’m four,” he answered, beaming proudly.
“Four? Wow. You’re awful big for your age.”
West grinned at the apparent compliment. Justine wondered how it was that adults could make comments like that about children’s body size and shape without it coming across as aggressive or rude. She also didn’t appreciate how Grandma Lucy was addressing West and not herself, but to be fair, Justine hadn’t done much more than answer the old woman’s questions with monosyllables.
“And are you a Christian, West?” Grandma Lucy asked, leaning in toward him. “Do you know Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior?”
Good grief. Was this eccentric stranger really about to start preaching to a preschooler?
“We go to church,” Justine inserted sharply. She picked up her purse, trying to decide if there was time to get West one more snack from McDonald’s before they had to board.
“Not every week,” West started to protest, but Grandma Lucy didn’t seem to hear him. She was addressing Justine directly.
“Oh, there’s so much more to having a personal relationship with Christ than just showing up to church on Sundays.”
Justine was finished. It was bad enough Steve had changed so much over the past year, droning on and on about Jesus this and God that. Last summer, his pastor’s wife had given Steve a kids’ Bible to read with West at bedtime. Justine was certain Steve would let the habit die after the first few nights, but here they were, months later, and Steve was still going at it strong.
Justine didn’t mind that West was learning Bible stories and going to church. And she couldn’t deny that her husband was infinitely easier to live with now that he had “come to God.” But even though he never stepped right up and said so, Justine got the feeling she was a constant disappointment to her husband, that he’d be more in love with her, happier with her if she got into this whole Jesus thing as much as he did.
Maybe he’d prayed this annoying old woman into their lives. Maybe Steve asked God to send them someone persistent who’d pester Justine until she finally got as serious about her faith as Steve wanted her to be.
Justine was spared the need to end the awkward conversation when the flight attendant invited passengers traveling with small children to board. West wasn’t a toddler anymore. Justine didn’t have a stroller or booster seat or any clunky baggage to take on the plane with them, but she wasn’t going to sit here and listen to some stranger proselytize her son anymore, either.
“Come on, West.” She took her son’s hand and let out her breath. “It’s time to get on the plane.”