Later that afternoon, we pulled into the driveway of the Lightwood’s home and there were cars everywhere. We looked at each other in question as we got out of Jason’s truck. There were blue, dark pink, gray and black balloons tied to the front porch. There were people on the front porch and on the lawn in nice clothing. I didn’t recognize who the people were, dressed in suits and delicate dresses. We walked inside the house and there were more people scattered about dressed in nice clothing.
What was going on? I wondered.
“Samantha Wilcox?” Called a male’s voice.
I looked over to where the voice was coming from and saw a young man. It was one of our friends from college.
“Oliver,” I said with a smile.
He was the nerdy kid in my morning math course. As the years passed, he had grown
