Emma's POV
Five weeks out, Mrs. Kowalski takes over.
I don't mean she offers to help. I mean she arrives on a Monday morning with a notebook and a look that suggests anyone who argues with her will regret it, and she begins coordinating the wedding the way a general coordinates a campaign.
"The flowers," she says, sitting across from me at the kitchen island. "You said white and green."
"White and green. Simple."
"Simple I can do. The florist on Mercer owes me a favor." She writes something down. "The cake."
"I'm making it."
She stops writing. Looks at me over her glasses.
"It's what I do," I say. "I'm not having someone else make my wedding cake."
"You're the bride."
"I'm also a pastry chef. I'll make it the day before. It won't be complicated."
She studies me for a moment then
