Judging from the small building the wedding was being held at, it was initially meant to be an intimate event. As grandma mentioned earlier, the couple in question had high hopes that a wedding was just what people needed to lift spirits. As it turns out, they were right.

There were cars spilling out of the little parking lot, parked alongside curbs and even up on the flat, grassy areas. Dainty paper lanterns suspended on thin fishing wire were what led guests to the front doors, though many just walked around the building to where the party was overflowing into the grass. A hastily thrown together dance floor had been constructed out back, along with a dozen or so tiki torches and streamers in various shades of violet.

The sign out front read, ‘Chatham Recreational Center.’ The music pouring from within was loud and upbeat, matching the laughter that drifted throughout the air. Children darted in and out, weaving between adults who were either drinking, eating, or dancing.

There was