Unfortunately, Mrs. Caldwell didn’t share Darby’s opinion. She seemed to think weddings were all about stressing out as many people as possible.

“Mrs. Caldwell is coming over with a can of paste,” I heard Darby say the next morning. I heard her, but I didn’t really do anything because I was still asleep and I figured I must be having a weird dream.

Delaney is almost always the first triplet who wakes up, which is a good arrangement. She’s a morning person and usually goes and gets some wiggles out of her system by playing with Quincy in the yard. Then, by the time she’s ready for cereal, we’re up. But some days, she gets bored and lonely and wakes us on purpose — although she won’t admit it.

Wham!

I sat up in bed, startled and blinking. Across the room, I could see Darby doing the same thing.

“Sorry,” Delaney said. “I accidentally knocked over that book.”

My big heavy biography of Abraham Lincoln was lying on the floor about four feet away — which meant Delaney probably tossed it instead of knocked it.

Before I could complain, Delaney said again, “Hey, guys. Mrs. Caldwell is coming over with a can of paste that she wants us to try.”

This time, I really listened to the words. “Huh?” I said.

“Why? I don’t need to glue anything,” Darby said. “Did you break something with all your bouncing, Delaney?”

“No, I didn’t. I swear,” Delaney said. “Apparently, Mrs. Caldwell is bringing the paste at lunchtime. Mom has to meet with a client and might be late. She wants us to eat breakfast and do our household tasks before Mrs. Caldwell gets here. She left instructions downstairs.”

I groaned and threw the bedsheet over me. Mom also didn’t agree with Darby’s definition of weddings. She seemed to think they were all about chores.

Mom was still trying to get the house super tidy and sparkling for the wedding, so she had a new list of things she wanted us to clean — including stuff we’ve never cleaned before, like doorframes and windowsills and the screen door. You’d be surprised at the gunk that can build up on a thin strip of wood. Darby wanted to make a collection of all the dead bugs we found, but we talked her out of it.

While we did all that, Lily polished Mom’s silver and washed her china sets so they could be used for serving food at the reception. I had to admit, the house had never looked so good — at least, not as far as I could remember. I found myself stopping and admiring each of the downstairs rooms as I stepped into them. Even Quincy kept sniffing everything as if he thought he was in a brand-new place.

Around noon, we heard the crunch of gravel outside. I peeked through the living room window and saw Mrs. Caldwell coming up the porch steps with a stack of white to-go boxes.

Delaney opened the door. “Did you bring the paste?” she asked.

“Paste?” Mrs. Caldwell looked confused. “Why would I bring paste?”

Delaney shrugged. “Mom said you were bringing over a can of paste for us to try. Only, I don’t know why. I didn’t break anything recently — I promise.”

“Oh. I think you mean canapés,” Lily said, putting her hand on Delaney’s shoulder. “It does sound like ‘can of paste.’ It’s a type of appetizer, and she’s bringing samples for us to try. To serve at the wedding.”

“Can of paste! Oh ho ho! Can of paste.” Mrs. Caldwell kept shaking her head and making that chirruping laugh of hers as she headed into the dining room.

Delaney ducked her head slightly. Her cheeks looked as if they’d been roasted.

It was kind of funny, but I didn’t laugh. Instead, I felt bad for my sister.

“Don’t worry about it, Delaney,” I whispered, patting her other shoulder. “She’s just a big meanie.”

“Yeah,” Darby said. “And, hey. At least she’s not accusing you of breaking something.”

Lily followed Mrs. Caldwell into the dining room, with us close behind. Mrs. Caldwell had already set down her packages and was standing at the head of the table as if she were in charge of everything in the world.

“Now, before we get to the tasting, I have big news to share.” Mrs. Caldwell had her hands pressed together and was bouncing slightly in her pointy shoes. It looked like she was doing a bad impression of Delaney. “The reporter who writes the society column for the paper will be coming to the rehearsal dinner!”

For a few seconds, no one made a sound. Eventually, I said, “Why?”

Mrs. Caldwell’s smile fell away. “Because Burton’s marriage is big news. It has to be covered. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they do a huge write-up on it.”

“Oh my,” said Lily. “Well, how about that?” She seemed to be doing a bad impression of an excited person. “So! How about we sample the food before it gets cold?”

We all stood around as Mrs. Caldwell opened each of the six boxes, one by one. “I have food samples from five nearby caterers, along with some booklets that list what they offer,” she said, setting down the books. “I’ll help you decide on the menu so you can place the order sometime today.”

I hated the way Mrs. Caldwell was bossing people — especially Lily. At the same time, I was curious, so I stepped forward and peered into the boxes. Each one held some sort of colorful bite-size food.

“Don’t they all look delicious?” Mrs. Caldwell said.

“They all look meaty,” Delaney said.

I looked over the selection again, and it was true. Each one was full of beef or wrapped in bacon or topped with fish.

“Lily can’t eat any of this,” Darby said. “She’s vegetarian.”

Mrs. Caldwell either didn’t hear her or pretended not to. Instead, she bit into a meatball and went “Mmmm.”

“It’s okay,” Lily said to Darby. “I’m sure I can find some good options in these books. You girls go ahead and try them. It’s lunchtime after all.”

“But what about you?” Delaney asked.

“I’ll make myself a sandwich later.”

The appetizers were all right, but I felt bad eating them. Also, the meatballs were gross. They were slimy and dog-food-ish. I wouldn’t even give them to Quincy.

Meanwhile, Lily sat down at the table and flipped through catering booklets while we stood eating and looking over her shoulder.

Some of the options, like the fruit and vegetable trays, were pretty typical and boring, but others were kind of creative. Like the place that would carve the names of the bride and groom into a watermelon. Or the cake balls on sticks that were decorated and tied with ribbons to resemble bouquets of flowers.

One restaurant even had photos of mashed potato sculptures they could make for a wedding. These included hearts, doves, swans, and wedding rings — the nice kind that didn’t look like toilet seats.

“They forgot the arms on this lady,” I said, looking at an image of a woman’s head and torso shaped from mashed potatoes and sitting on a bed of parsley.

Lily glanced at the photo. “That’s a replica of the Venus de Milo, a famous statue by a brilliant artist. She doesn’t have arms.”

“I don’t get it,” Delaney whispered to me. “If the artist is so great, why would he forget the arms?”

I shrugged.

“Oh, these are amazing,” Mrs. Caldwell said as she munched on some cheesy thing with bacon. “Burton will love these.”

Lily’s forehead went squiggly. “Excuse me. I’m going to go make a peanut butter sandwich,” she said. Then she stood and headed into the kitchen.

Darby, Delaney, and I exchanged guilty looks. No way could we eat another meaty bite after that. Instead, we sat at the table and started flipping through the catering books.

“This place says you can choose four kinds of … horse doves,” Darby said excitedly. “What are those? Do they fly?”

“What?” Mrs. Caldwell sounded startled. She peered over Darby’s shoulder. “Those are hors d’oeuvres. They’re appetizers — like canapés.”

“Why do they give wedding food such strange names?” Delaney asked.

“Yeah, like these teeny-tiny burgers,” I said. “Why are they called sliders?”

“My, my,” Mrs. Caldwell said. “You girls certainly ask a lot of questions.”

I waited to see if she would give me a real answer, but she didn’t.

“Well, then,” said Mrs. Caldwell, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “I think it’s obvious that these meatballs would be best, along with some salmon-topped canapés and bacon sliders.”

“But … Lily doesn’t eat meat. She’s vegetarian,” Darby said, louder and more slowly than when she said it before.

“Yes, but Lily isn’t going to be the only person eating at the wedding,” Mrs. Caldwell said.

“Yes, but Lily is the bride,” Delaney said.

“Yes, but this wedding also includes a big strong boy who needs nourishment,” Mrs. Caldwell said.

Darby, Delaney, and I exchanged puzzled looks. “What big strong boy?” I asked.

“Why, Burton, of course.”

“Yes, but this is Lily’s house, and she needs nourishment, too,” I pointed out, my voice rising a little. “Burton can eat vegetables, but she can’t eat meat.”

“Yes, but the meat eaters who will be attending the wedding will far outnumber the vegetarians.”

“Yes, but since Lily’s parents are actually paying for the food, it seems only fair that they have the final decision about what is served. Don’t you agree, Edith?” Mom was standing in the doorway to the dining room, still holding her car keys. She must have just returned from her appointment and we hadn’t heard her because we’d been busy bickering.

At this point, Mrs. Caldwell seemed to run out of yes buts. “Well, I … I …” She twitched and sputtered like a dying campfire. “Of course, Anne. If you want to disappoint the multitude of guests, there is nothing I can do about it. However, you should be aware that I plan to serve meat as the main course at the rehearsal dinner. And that will be paid for by me.”

“That sounds fair,” Lily said, entering the dining room from the kitchen.

“No, it’s not,” I said. “You won’t be able to eat hardly anything and you’re the bride!”

“I’m sure I will find things I can eat, Dawn. It’s okay. And, as I said, it’s fair.”

“Since my input isn’t appreciated here, I believe I’ll go finalize the menu for the rehearsal dinner,” Mrs. Caldwell said. She stuck her nose in the air and trotted toward the front door.

“Thank you for bringing over the booklets and samples,” Lily said, going after her.

Mom sat down and sighed. She had a headachy look on her face.

“Mom, why do wedding plans make people crazy?” Darby asked.

“It’s not the plans that do it,” she said. “It’s the emotions. This is a big thing happening to people we love. Mrs. Caldwell wants what she thinks is best for Burton, because she loves him — just like we love Lily and want what’s best for her. Mrs. Caldwell is just a little more … forceful about saying what she wants.”

“Well, we outnumber her. So there,” I said.

Mom laughed. “Yes, I suppose we do.”

When Lily got back to the dining room, the five Brewster women sat around with the catering books and discussed the menu for the wedding reception. After some civilized debate, we finally decided on the following: Spinach and goat cheese mini quiches, stuffed mushrooms, watercress canapés topped with assorted vegetables, and the vegetarian sliders. I thought the menu was quite representative of us Brewsters — it was good and real, without any fancy, showy stuff.

But the absolute best part of the day was when Lily let me, Darby, and Delaney flip through the books and pick out the wedding cake. We easily agreed on it. We chose a three-tiered one that had vanilla on the bottom, chocolate in the middle, and strawberry on top. There were multicolored frosting flowers all along the bottom, and candy rainbows around the middle — and piles and piles of whipped white frosting that made it look like a big cloud was sitting on top. We figured if Lily couldn’t be outdoors for her wedding, even though she’d always wanted to be, we could bring the outdoors to her in this small way.

It felt good to truly help and not just pretend. The only thing that would have made it even better was if Lily had let us help choose her groom.