"Meh, I don't care. I can appreciate nature, or whatever. Write angsty poetry about how tragically flightless I am. You know, as I do."
Hee. "But seriously, do you guys actually want to go flying? We could go this weekend if you're free?"
"I have mass in the morning, but if you guys can pick me up we could go right after?"
Jenny starts to recite it, rolls her eyes at herself, and writes it down instead.
And on Sunday at noon she and Isabella are there to collect Jenny.
Father O'Brien says, "I like to think I'm not quite that ancient," and winks at Jenny when she starts to stammer a denial. "Nice to meet you ladies. Jennifer here seems to think quite highly of you."
"Nice to meet you too. Jenny, ready to go or should we drive around the block?"
"Just one sec, I don't think you need to drive, just gotta tell my mom I'm leaving. Be right back, 'kay?" Jenny says distractedly, and ducks sideways in search of her family.
"Well, if you want a kid without breaking your priestly celibacy talk to my mom, I guess. I don't remember the process myself."
"I believe that's the case even with the usual process," Father O'Brien says, looking amused. "And dear me, no, I'm well past that age, bless you. It's some of my congregation that would benefit." A few couples he can think of in particular, but obviously he can't say who, and it's not like names would mean anything to her. "I don't suppose anyone religious has gone through the process, that might answer some questions? Or if you're religious yourself, and willing to humor me?"
"Nope, never. I didn't actually come intending to talk to a priest today, so, like, at the risk of totally failing to balance politeness with accuracy and at even higher risk of missing some key point of theology I don't actually care about, I find it really bizarre that people in general find the idea of an omnipotent omniscient omnibenevolent entity morally defensible, let alone empirically plausible."