The guest list was supposed to be simple.
That was Nick's word. Simple. He had repeated it so many times that Emma had started to believe him. But as she sat at the kitchen table, surrounded by papers and sticky notes and Eleanor's handwritten additions, she realized that nothing about this list was simple.
"Your mother wants to invite her bridge club," Emma said.
Nick didn't look up from his laptop. "How many people are in her bridge club?"
"Twelve."
"We're not inviting twelve people from her bridge club."
"She already sent them save-the-dates."
Nick looked up. "She what?"
Emma held up a stack of cards. "She had them printed. She addressed them. She mailed them."
Nick rubbed his temples. "I'm going to kill her."
"You're not going to kill her. You're going to call her and explain
