“Did they have a sermon?” Margaret asked. “Or just a great deal of loud music? Because if it was just a great deal of loud music, then it was a concert you attended. Not a service.”
“They had a sermon,” Britt said lightly.
“Did they offer an altar call?” Margaret asked.
“They have a reception room where you can meet with pastors after the service if you want to talk about salvation or need prayer or want to join the church.”
Suspicion tightened Margaret’s lips. “It sounds like Victory Fellowship is trying to make everyone too comfortable. Reception rooms,” she scoffed. “Coffee and tea. Big TV screens. Seats with cushions.”
“I’m not sure,” Britt said, “that being comfortable in church is a bad thing—”
“Many years ago,” Margaret interrupted, “our pastor would stand at the front at the end of the service. We’d sing ‘Softly and Tenderly,’ and between verses he’d spread out his arms and entreat people to make a decision. Guilt and discomfort are both motivatingandconvicting. Your generation is in need of more convicting. Much more convicting.”
“Mmm-hmm. When was the last time you went forward during an altar call, Grandma?”
“1946.” Margaret took her time eying her granddaughter and then him. “How old are you now, Zander?”
“Twenty-seven,” he answered.
“When I was twenty-seven, I’d already been married for several years. I was the mother of one child, with another on the way.”
“Yes,” Britt said, “but that was—”
Zander cleared his throat to warn her because he knew she was about to sayforever ago.
“Things have changed,” Britt said. “A lot of people are getting married at an older age. Or not marrying at all.”
Margaret blanched.
“I think you’ve just caught a little bit of marriage fever,” Britt said to her grandmother, “now that Willow’s married and Nora soon will be.”
“My dearest dream, myonlydream, is to see all three of my granddaughters married.” Margaret tipped up her chin in a way that reminded Zander of a wrongly accused prisoner facing the gallows.
“Now who’s using guilt and discomfort to motivate and convict?” Britt gave her grandma a kiss on the cheek, then went to check her potatoes.
“I still believe that the right man would be willing to marry a woman your age, Britt,” Margaret said, “although timeisof the essence.” Margaret’s attention swung to him. “You plan to marry, don’t you, Zander?”
“Yes, I’d like to.”
“Are you courting anyone at the moment?”
“No, I’ve been traveling for the past several months.”
“Men have been known to fall in love with foreign women while traveling,” Margaret said.
“Grandma, no!” Britt snapped straight, looking outraged. “He’s definitely not allowed to fall in love with anyone from a foreign country. I can’t have him living the rest of his life in a place like Fiji. No, no, no.”
“He’s allowed to do whatever he’d like,” Margaret said to her granddaughter. “He’s twenty-seven.”
“He’s not allowed to dothat.”
“I don’t know, Britt,” he said. “I’m going to Korea next, and I think I could really go for a Korean woman. They’re gorgeous, and they seem really smart and calm.”
“Not allowed! Plus, you just stereotyped Korean women.”
“Is it a stereotype if the traits are positive?”
“When you’re done traveling, you’re going to come right back here to Washington,” Britt said, “and you’re going to fall in love with a local girl.”
