CHAPTER 13
We got married between semesters during our senior year of college. The date’s slowly creeping up on us, actually. Almost our anniversary.
Mom was shocked when I told her we wanted to marry in Spokane. She’d always dreamed her little girl would walk down the aisle of Orchard Grove. But I swear the architect who designed that church must have been a grumpy and dour soul. I don’t know this for sure, although the congregational records are so exhaustive, I could probably find everything I wanted to know about him in the business meeting minutes if I looked back far enough. The building itself is a squat, imposing, boxy sort of cube with a steeple, utterly lacking in imagination, as if its sole purpose was to remind you that earth’s not the place to be hunting around for beauty or
