The sun rose on the day before the wedding, casting a warm golden light over Elden Bridge. It should have been a calm day—reserved for final touches and quiet reflection. Instead, it started with waffles.
Or rather, a waffle emergency.
Lucas had insisted on making breakfast for the bridal party. "It's symbolic," he'd said, "crispy outside, warm inside, just like marriage."
What he didn't mention was that he had never actually used the antique waffle iron Grandma Ruth gifted him.
"Is it supposed to smoke like that?" Grace asked, standing in the middle of the bookstore's tiny kitchen, fanning the fire alarm with a cookbook.
"Smoke?" Lucas said, peering at the sizzling contraption. "It's just... extra enthusiasm."
The waffle iron exploded with a loud pop and spewed batter like confetti.
Tessa arrived seconds later. "I smelled pancakes and regret. What's happening?"
Violet, in her pajama pants and a wedding to-do list tucked under her arm, just pointed to the scorched countertop.
"Lucas is cooking," she said.
"I was creating!" he protested. "The muse of brunch possessed me."
They laughed so hard they forgot to be stressed. Which, in the chaos of pre-wedding jitters, was a miracle.
Later that morning, the rehearsal was set for 11 a.m. sharp. Which meant the bride, groom, officiant (a surprisingly eloquent and philosophical substitute named Jasper from the herbal co-op), and their unruly group of loved ones gathered at the orchard with various degrees of readiness.
Grace wore sunglasses like she was shielding herself from the emotions.
Raj brought a ukulele for "ambiance."
Lucas showed up with glitter on his shoes and a box labeled "emergency boutonnières."
"Why the glitter?" Violet asked as he hugged her.
"Why not the glitter?"
Jasper, a man in a wide-brim hat and sandals, began the ceremony walk-through with the calm of a yogi.
"When you step into the clearing, think of it not as a place but a pause," he said. "A breath between chapters."
Adam leaned over to whisper, "I think our officiant might be a wizard."
"I hope so," Violet replied. "This whole thing needs a little magic."
They practiced their walk. Violet nearly tripped on a root. Adam caught her.
"We're off to a good start," he grinned.
"You're marrying a klutz."
"Perfect. I'm marrying my favorite klutz."
The rest of the day unfolded like a short film written by Nora Ephron and choreographed by chaos.
Tessa organized a mini flash mob as a "pre-wedding surprise"—only to have it interrupted by a rogue goose from the orchard pond.
Elena tried to teach Lucas a proper toast. He kept rewriting it as slam poetry.
"I need it to resonate," he said, striking a dramatic pose on the back steps.
"You need to sit down," Elena replied, dragging him inside.
Meanwhile, Violet and Adam snuck away between rehearsals to the bookstore.
"Just for a moment," Violet said.
They sat in the reading nook, tangled in a blanket, breathing in the quiet.
"I can't believe it's tomorrow," she whispered.
"I can," Adam said. "It's been tomorrow since the day you kissed me in the rain."
Violet laughed softly. "You're getting poetic."
"You're rubbing off on me."
They sat in silence, listening to the hum of old pipes and pages flipping in the breeze.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
"For tomorrow?"
"For all of it. Marriage. Mornings like this. Burnt waffles. Your mother's twenty-seven-question dress inspection."
Adam kissed her forehead. "I've never been readier."
That evening, the families gathered for dinner at Grace's house—an eclectic potluck with candles in mismatched jars and music on an old record player. There were speeches and jokes, near-falls, and one accidental nap in a flower bed courtesy of Raj.
"I was communing with nature," he insisted when someone woke him.
As the evening wound down, Violet looked around the table—at her family, Adam's mother, their friends-turned-siblings—and felt a stillness she hadn't expected.
A kind of joy that wasn't loud or sparkly. Just present.
Like love that knew where to stay.
When they left, Adam walked Violet home. No big declarations. Just hands linked and hearts full.
They paused at the orchard gate.
"Next time we're here," Violet said, "we'll be saying our vows."
Adam nodded. "And beginning something new."
She kissed him. "I'm not nervous anymore."
"Good," he said. "Then I'll be nervous enough for both of us."
And they laughed their way into the night, hearts light, futures wide open, and the scent of blooming apple trees wrapped around them like a promise.
Tomorrow would be beautiful.
Because today already was.