1954

I awoke with a start, knowing exactly how to promote the new bakery's opening. My eyes flew to Greta whose head rested on the pillow beside mine. Her pale locks, interspersed with silver strands, were wrapped tightly around curlers.

We weren't getting any younger. If only Peeta would take a bride to help him run the shop, I'd up and quit the business tomorrow.

Greta and I could leave the crowded city behind and move to Florida, a paradise we'd visited every few years to escape the harsh Northeast winters.

Maybe that's where my genius idea came from – a desire to see my youngest son wed, coupled with the June opening of our third bakery. Once it became operational, each of my sons would have a place to call his own.

We operated two bakeries in the city, across town from each other, but this newest addition would be forty miles away in the suburb of Dandelion. My oldest son Phyl would run it, along with his wife Fern. They had two school-aged children and were eager to raise them in a more relaxed setting.

Rye, my middle son, and his wife Delly, would take over the cross-town bakery they currently worked with Phyl and Fern, while my youngest son Peeta would run the flagship store I'd inherited from my own father so many years ago.

I called the kids to a meeting that evening to tell them of my plan. While Greta entertained the grandkids in the kitchen – tricking them into washing the dinner dishes - Phyl, Fern, Rye, Delly, and Peeta sat around the dining table.

"No one knows about Mellark's in the suburbs," I began. "We'll have to do something flashy to capture the attention of potential customers.

"So here's my thought. We'll hold a wedding in the store on our opening day. The bride and groom can hand out free wedding cake."

"That's an interesting proposal," Phyl said. "But where are you going to find a couple willing to get married in a bakery? I can't imagine too many women agreeing to that." He looked to his wife Fern who he'd married in one of the largest churches in the city, followed by a sit-down dinner for a two hundred guests.

I frowned. "Maybe I can provide some incentive. Pay for a short honeymoon to Niagara Falls or something. Do any of you know of an engaged couple?"

Blank faces stared back at me.

No, this is too good of an idea to toss aside. There has to be a way to make it happen.

"Maybe Peeta could find a wife?" Rye suggested, smirking at his brother.

Delly playfully punched her husband's shoulder. "In six weeks?" She tossed Peeta an apologetic glance.

Peeta's face lowered. His eyes fixed on a butter stain on the tablecloth.

"Leave your brother alone," I defended him, even though I was frustrated with the boy myself. I had hoped that he'd settle down after he was discharged from the Army last year, but no luck.

Instead he'd moved back home with Greta and me in our apartment above the bakery taking up residence in his old bedroom. My wife had attempted to fix him up with at least a half dozen girls, daughters of her friends. But he'd refused her help.

I looked at Rye and Delly. "If we can't find a engaged couple, would you both be willing to put on your wedding clothes and recite your vows again? No one knows you two in Dandelion. They wouldn't know it's not a real wedding."

Delly blushed and exchanged an odd glance with my son. Rye nodded back at her.

"Ah, Dad, we were waiting to tell you, but well, that won't work. Delly's pregnant. And with the way she's been eating for two, I doubt she'll fit in any of her clothes in six weeks."

"For crying out loud, Rye," Delly muttered. But her frown dissolved into a pleased smile when we all burst into hearty congratulations.

When everyone was done discussing the good news, including Greta who'd caught wind of our conversation from the kitchen and came in to insist that Delly name her child "Olaf" if he were a boy, I made a pronouncement.

"If we can't find a real couple to get married, I'm hiring actors because this is too good an idea to pass up."

xxxxxxxxxx

"I like your plan to hold a wedding in the new store," Greta said, as she sat in front of the vanity table and wrapped her hair around those uncomfortable-looking curlers. "But we don't have the budget to pay for a honeymoon, or even to hire actors. If it's going to be fake, we might as well use two employees. After all we have to pay them anyway."

Pulling down the blanket on my side of the bed, I kicked off my slippers and climbed in. "Maybe, but most of our employees are older and already married. I don't want to cause family problems for anyone. It would be best if we had an attractive, young couple."

Greta nodded in agreement. She turned from the vanity to face me. "You know, Peeta would make the perfect groom."

I leaned back against the pillow and chuckled. "Rye already suggested it."

"Good grief, will he ever find someone? I've about given up on him. I have no friends with daughters left."

"He's a shy one," I told my wife. "I was the same."

Greta snorted, rising from her seat. "Like hell you were Henry. You tried to kiss me on our first date while you were driving, and we ended up in a ditch. You wrecked your dad's car. It's lucky we weren't killed."

I'd forgotten all about that. So maybe I wasn't so shy after all.

Still I'd noticed Peeta appeared to fancy one girl – a little slip of a thing I'd hired to work the front counter while he was off fighting in Korea. Her name was Katniss Everdeen. She was short, dark-haired with steely gray eyes, and a scowl that stopped customers who dared complain about the products or the prices or any other matter.

When Peeta had returned from fighting in Korea and first caught sight of her, he'd been quite flustered. He'd dropped a tray of cookies onto the floor.

As for Katniss' feelings for my son, I couldn't tell as she was so reserved, but she did throw Peeta sympathetic glances whenever Greta chewed him out for mixing up an order or leaving the loaves in the oven too long.

My wife pulled down the blanket on her side and joined me in bed.

"What do you think about Peeta playing the part of the groom and, maybe, Katniss could play the part of the bride?" I suggested.

My wife shook her head. "No, not Katniss. She's not very big or particularly pretty. Anyway with her coloring, I'm sure she's Italian."

What in the hell does that matter?

"Greta, her last name is Everdeen."

"Probably shortened from Everdeeni. Those people always changed their names when they came to this country. What made you think of her anyway?"

Judging from my wife's harsh comments about Katniss, I didn't want to tell her about my suspicions regarding Peeta's feelings toward the girl. Katniss seemed perfectly lovely to me. With her long braids that she wore pinned up, she exuded an unsophisticated innocence that was refreshing. I thought she'd make a beautiful bride.

Hell, she'd probably make a great daughter-in-law, too, if my son had the smarts to make a move. After working in our shop for the past two years, at least she'd know what to expect if she married a baker.

I wound up the alarm clock, set it for 4 a.m., and pulled out the pin in back. "I thought of Katniss because she's the only girl the right age in our store."

"I don't like the idea of Peeta pretending to marry her." Greta removed her rings, placing them in a dish on the nightstand. "Aren't there a couple of single girls working in the other store?"

"I'll ask Phyl." I leaned in to give my wife a peck on her lips as she put on her eye mask.

"Goodnight sweetie. Pleasant dreams." I turned off the lamp on my nightstand and my back to my bride, already planning how to approach Katniss.

When Greta left to go to lunch with a friend the next day, I flipped over the sign on the door to "Closed," and called Katniss and Peeta into my office.

"Katniss, Peeta has already heard my idea, but I wanted to tell you about it."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peeta raise his eyebrows.

"We're going to hold a wedding in the newest bakery to mark our grand opening."

Peeta's face went red. He must have guessed where I was going.

"We don't know of any engaged couples who'd agree to have their wedding inside a bakery so I was thinking we could stage a fake ceremony for publicity purposes. All I need is a bride and a groom. So I'm asking you, Katniss. Will you be the bride in our wedding? Peeta will be the groom, of course."

Katniss' cheeks turned pink. Then she turned her head and stared angrily at Peeta.

Panic came over me. I'd misconstrued everything. Judging from the glare she gave my son, she must despise him.

"I'm sorry dear. I never should have asked you. It's just that I have to find a bride. But I understand if you're not interested. I'm sure I can find another girl. There might be someone in our other store, and if not, well Greta has lots of friends with daughters."

I was sure Katniss would tell me to go right ahead and find someone else, but instead she repeated my words back as if in shock. "Another girl?"

She bit her lower lip, rolling it between her teeth. "All right, I'll do it Mr. Mellark."

"Great then. It's all set. You'll need a dress, I expect. But don't worry I'll figure it all out."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A couple of weeks later, I placed a teasing advertisement for the bakery in the local newspaper in Dandelion.

Join us at noon on Saturday June 26th to attend The Wedding of the Year at the grand opening of Mellark's Bakery, located at 1212 Main Street. A free slice of wedding cake will be provided to every guest.

Underneath the announcement was a sketch of a bride and groom. Peeta had done the work – my boy is quite the artist. Not surprisingly, the couple he'd drawn resembled Katniss and himself.

The very morning the ad ran, I got a phone call from Frank Cinna, a Dandelion bridal storeowner.

"I saw your advertisement and I'd like to help you out," he said. "I've got lots of wedding gowns in my shop."

"I don't know," I hedged. I had no budget to outfit Katniss and Peeta in wedding attire. I was thinking we could ask around and borrow a dress for her. Peeta still had the suit he'd worn for Rye's nuptials a few years back.

Ignoring my hesitation, Cinna continued. "I can put a few dresses in my window and have customers vote on the dress for your bride to wear."

"But I, well the bride, is on a tight budget. I don't think she could afford…"

"You don't understand," he cut in. "She can have the dress for free. I'll even outfit the groom. I'd just like to piggyback my business onto your promotion. It's a clever idea that could bring me customers too because they'll have to come into my shop to place their vote. All I'd like is a tagline in your future ads saying that Cinna's Bridal is providing the clothing for The Wedding of the Year. What do you say?"

Free clothes for the bride and groom? The tie-in with an established business in Dandelion?

"It's a deal."

Two hours later a florist in Dandelion called. He wanted in as well, offering free flowers. "How many bridesmaids are there?"

"Bridesmaids?" For a phony wedding, this was getting out-of-control.

"None."

"Okay, then. I'll just make up the bridal bouquet, corsages for the mothers of the bride and groom, a wrist corsage for the maid-of-honor, and some boutonnières for the men."

"Great." I guessed we could find someone to wear the flowers. Maybe a corsage would soften Greta to the idea of our son pretending to marry Katniss Everdeen because she wasn't happy about it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"This is astonishing," I told my wife that evening, as we got ready for bed. "Two businesses offering free clothes and flowers. Mellark's is going to be a hit in Dandelion."

"Did you tell them that it's not a real wedding?"

"Nah. What does it matter?"

But it did matter because a couple of days later, Plutarch Heavensbee, the editor of The Dandelion Gazette called up in search of a story.

"We'd like to do a feature on the couple that's getting married at the grand opening of your bakery."

"Excuse me?" My heart raced, caught up in the lie of the fake wedding. "They're private people, I don't think…."

"This is a great opportunity to get free advertising for your business Mr. Mellark," he interrupted. "I'd think you'd want my reporter to talk with them."

I sighed. He was right. It was an incredible opportunity for publicity. Far more than I had ever dreamed. But the wedding was a sham. And if I told Heavensbee, it would likely backfire completely and my idea would be ruined. Still I had one bit of information that might discourage him from writing the piece.

"I should probably mention that my son Peeta is the groom."

Heavensbee chuckled. "That makes the story even more interesting."

I bit the inside of my cheek. Damn. "I'll bring them to Dandelion myself this Saturday afternoon."

Greta was furious when I told her about the interview. "It's bad enough that Peeta is pretending to marry that girl for a publicity stunt, but now he's supposed to be featured in the newspaper talking about it? What are my friends going to think?"

"I doubt any of your friends read The Dandelion Gazette," I countered.

But it wasn't Greta or even Peeta I was worried about. We were asking an awful lot of Katniss Everdeen, far more than an employer should ask of his employee. What if she backed out? We'd be sunk.

I spoke to Peeta and Katniss the next morning about the interview. "I'll be there the whole time to deflect any personal questions. I'm guessing they want a photo and a few comments about how happy you both are."

I looked to Katniss. "I know you don't normally work the weekends, but I'll pay extra for your time on Saturday."

"And while we're in Dandelion, we'll stop by the bridal store and have you both fitted for the wedding clothes."

Cinna had requested we come by soon, so he could take measurements.

"All right," she agreed.

When Katniss left for the front counter, I motioned for Peeta to stay. "I'm sorry about all this son. I didn't expect things to get so out-of-hand. Has Katniss spoken to you about it? You don't think she'll back out or anything?"

"No, I don't think she'll back out," he answered, pausing for a moment. "You know Dad, the reporter will probably expect Katniss to be wearing an engagement ring."

I slapped my forehead. "You're right. I never thought of that. I'll talk with your mother. Maybe she can loan Katniss her ring for the interview."

But even as I spoke I knew it was a lost cause. Greta would never consent. "Well, if not, maybe Delly would lend us her ring."

"I have a ring," Peeta said.

"You have what?"

I turned to my son in amazement. He gave me a sheepish look.

"I bought a ring a couple of years ago, but, well, she turned me down. I still have it. Katniss could wear it."

"Who did you buy a ring for?" I had no idea my son had ever been serious enough about a girl to have purchased an engagement ring. And why would she turn him down?

Suddenly it all made sense. That's why he'd rejected all of Greta's friend's daughters – he was still mourning the girl who rejected him.

"Never mind, I'm so sorry that it didn't work out son, but yes, please let Katniss borrow your ring."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On the drive up to Dandelion I coached Peeta and Katniss on the interview. "If this reporter asks you anything you don't want to answer, just steer him back to the bakery opening. Talk about the wedding cake."

Peeta, who was sitting in the back seat, leaned forward to rest his arms on the top of the front seat. "What kind of cake were you thinking about for the grand opening anyway?"

"Each layer will be one of our most popular combinations," I said. "One layer will be white cake with custard filling. Another will be white with a lemon filling. We'll probably do a chocolate cake with an orange filling, and maybe a spice cake with a cream cheese filling. Of course we'll have to make up some sheet cakes as well. With all the publicity we're getting, I'm expecting we'll get a big crowd and I don't want anyone to go away without a slice of cake."

"What's your favorite flavor?" I asked Katniss, who sat beside me.

"The chocolate and orange combination sounds good."

"Okay, then I'll be sure the layer you kids cut into is the chocolate one so you'll get a chance to taste it."

"I'd like to come up a couple of days early and make the cake," Peeta said.

"It's not your job Peeta; it's Phyl's shop," I pointed out.

"But I want to," Peeta insisted. "You know that my flowers are better than his. Besides wouldn't it add to the interview to tell the reporter that the groom is making the cake for his bride?"

At Peeta's words, Katniss twisted her head to look back at him. I couldn't see her expression, as my eyes were on the road, but I couldn't help but worry that Peeta was going to scare her away. She already seemed nervous, twisting his ring around her finger over and over.

"We'll talk about it later son."

We drove in silence for a few miles. "Mr. Mellark, do you have the minister yet?" Katniss asked, breaking the quiet.

My stomach dropped. I'd forgotten all about the officiate.

"No, not yet." Maybe I could get one of the older employees to play that role. Ken Dalton looked the type, serious and God-fearing. All he needed was a black suit with a white collar.

"My uncle could do it," Katniss suggested. "He's going to drive me to Dandelion that day anyway. And he has a robe and a stole, too."

"That would work, I guess. But I can't pay him."

"He wouldn't take your money. But he'd appreciate a bottle of Jim Beam for his time."

I wasn't thrilled to give the job to a person unknown to me, but if allowing her uncle to participate in this charade ensured that Katniss didn't bolt at the last minute, I'd agree to practically anything. "As long as he's sober when he performs the ceremony, I'll get him his whiskey."

"Oh, he'll be sober. I'll make sure of that."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The interview went better than I could have imagined. Peeta had the reporter, a strange little man named Caesar Flickerman, enthralled with a fiction about knowing Katniss since she was a child.

"On the first day of school the teacher asked who knew The Star Spangled Banner and Katniss' hand shot up. She stood on a chair and sang it for the class. I swear, every bird outside the window fell silent."

He smiled at Katniss, and her face glowed.

"I even remember what you were wearing. You had on a red plaid dress and your hair was in two braids.

"I was a goner from the start."

Flickerman chuckled. "And when did you realize that you were in love with Peeta?"

Katniss' head dropped suddenly to study the ring on her finger. "Not when I was five," she whispered.

A nervous sensation came over me as I listened to my son's lies. I suspected that Peeta was deliberately trying to get back at his former sweetheart, the girl who rejected him, and might possibly read the newspaper interview.

But I was also worried about his exaggerated declarations of love for Katniss. They were only co-workers and she was already doing the Mellark family a huge favor.

After a quick photo session, we drove over to the bakery. Phyl and his family had moved to a rental house in Dandelion at the beginning of June so that he could oversee the installation of the ovens, walk-in refrigerator, and the display cases.

Phyl met us there to give a tour. "I figured we could hold the ceremony facing out toward the front window. The safety inspector will only allow fifty people inside the shop, so I've arranged to have a microphone and speakers set up so that the crowd outside will be able to see and hear everything."

"Clever thinking son. I never would have thought of that."

"We'll be ready to start baking a few days before the grand opening," he continued.

"Good," Peeta said. "Because I'll be up here early to do the wedding cake."

"You don't need to," Phyl said. "I've already hired a staff and I figured…"

"No, Phyl, I'm doing the cake."

"Let's get over to the bridal shop," I interrupted. I didn't need the boys to argue over the wedding cake. The cake was the least of my worries.

The store was a couple of blocks away so the three of us walked. Like Cinna had promised, three dresses were displayed in the front window. A vote tally was written on a piece of paper posted underneath each dress. Adding up the combined number of votes, I was stunned to see that almost 400 people had taken the time to cast a ballot.

How many of these folks will show up for the wedding? We'll need a lot of cake.

Katniss stood close to the glass, mouth agape, staring at the dress she would wear. Made of heavy white silk with a low neckline and a fitted waist and long sleeves, it was covered in seed pearls, stitched into the bodice and skirt and in the crown for the veil.

"It's beautiful," she murmured.

"Let's go inside," I said.

While Cinna's assistants took the kids aside for measurements, he told me of the success of the promotion.

"I've never had so many people come into my store than have come in since I started this contest. I've already sold two copies of the winning dress."

Before we left to head back to the city, Cinna told Katniss he needed to see her once more for a final fitting. "Could you come up here a few days before the wedding?"

She turned to me. But before I could respond, Peeta answered.

"I'll drive Katniss to Dandelion; it will give me time to start the set-up for the cake."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The week before the grand opening was a nightmare. Constant calls from the public about the date and time of the wedding ceremony which was clearly stated in the newspaper advertising, questions from a couple of long-time friends who'd somehow heard about Peeta's sudden marriage – which we had to explain wasn't real, along with the usual pain-in-the-ass problems that arise whenever you're trying to open a new business on a fixed deadline.

To top it off, we were short-handed in our shop, and had to borrow staff from the cross-town store.

Peeta and Katniss were gone almost all of Tuesday – Katniss for the fitting and Peeta to do prep work for the cake. They also stopped by the florist while they were in Dandelion to select the flowers.

And then Peeta took my car Wednesday night to drive up to Dandelion to make the cake. He planned to stay at Phyl's house until the ceremony.

"How are we supposed to get to the grand opening?" Greta fumed, "if Peeta has the Cadillac?"

"I guess we'll ride up with Rye and Delly."

"In the back of a station wagon?"

I gave Katniss Friday off, since she was working for us on Saturday, playing bride. Greta spent Friday afternoon at the beauty parlor getting her hair done.

"Your son's not really getting married," I reminded her.

"I don't care. I want to look good if my picture's going to be in the newspaper."

Heavensbee had already called to let us know he was sending his photographer over to cover the event for the society page. At the back of my mind, I pushed away the thought that he'd find out that the wedding wasn't real. But Peeta and Katniss didn't live in Dandelion and my family was sworn to secrecy. How would anyone ever find out?

I could hardly sleep Friday night. Greta had the same problem, only her insomnia was caused by her elaborate hairdo, which appeared to be held in place by dozens of bobby pins and a can of hairspray.

"I don't want to crush the back of it."

So we sat up in bed the whole night long and talked through every aspect of the following day. We had it all planned out so that nothing would go wrong.

We rose early and drank a pot of coffee before Greta sat down at her vanity to work on her face and I went downstairs to get the ovens going and the baking started.

Skeleton crews were scheduled at both of our city bakeries because the entire family would be in Dandelion.

Rye picked us up around 9 a.m. Greta and I got into the back seat. Rye and I were wearing the tuxedos we'd worn for his wedding, while both women had purchased new dresses.

"So do you think this wedding will get Peeta into the marrying frame of mind?" Rye joked.

"He's already been in that mind," I said.

Greta's face grew red. "What are you talking about? Not with Katniss Everdeen, I hope."

"Actually I once thought he might have a little crush on Katniss, but then I found out about the ring he purchased."

Greta screamed. "He bought a ring for Katniss?"

"Not in my ear, Ma," Rye said, throwing his mother a dark look by way of the rear view mirror.

"No, not Katniss," I explained. "But I found out why Peeta wasn't interested in all those girls you tried to set him up with. It seems he met someone a couple of years back, bought her a ring even, but she turned him down."

Greta frowned. "Rejected Peeta. Our boy. I can't believe it. Why would anyone do that?"

I shook my head, just as mystified as my wife. "It's true, though. Anyway, since he already had a ring he offered to let Katniss wear it for the newspaper interview."

Delly turned in her seat. "What about for the ceremony? Does he have a band to put on her finger?"

Damn, damn, damn.

My eyes flew to my wife's hand.

She immediately pulled it back. "No, Katniss Everdeen is not wearing my wedding ring."

"Sorry Henry, I had to take off my rings because my fingers have swollen up," Delly said. "But maybe you can borrow Fern's band."

Fern. Yes, she could help out; after all the entire wedding was set up to promote the bakery she and her husband would be operating.

We arrived around 10 a.m. Phyl had done a bang-up advertising job. A big banner hung over the awning that read "Come to Mellark's at noon for The Wedding of the Year."

We entered the shop to find a madhouse of activity. Fern was almost done filling up the display cases with breads, pastries, and cookies. The grandkids were taping crepe paper streamers to the walls. Phyl, along with a couple of his employees, were in back hastily decorating sheet cakes.

"These are extras because the wedding cake won't feed everyone," Phyl explained.

"Where's the main cake?" I was curious to see what Peeta had created. It had struck me as odd that he'd been so insistent about making it.

"It's in the walk-in fridge," Phyl said. "You might want to take a look, though. It's quite unusual."

Unusual? I don't want unusual. I want traditional. The cake will be an advertisement to potential customers about the kind of product they can expect from Mellark's.

I rushed to the walk-in refrigerator. The cake sat on a trolley that was covered with a white linen cloth. It was four-tiers tall, with the traditional bride and groom topper.

But what caught my attention were the pictures – that's the only way I can describe them - frosted so carefully that it appeared as if they were painted onto the sides of each tier.

Starting at the bottom cake, it showed a dark-haired girl in a red dress standing on a chair and a little blond-haired boy watching her – the very same story Peeta had told the newspaper reporter.

As I made my way around the bottom cake and then up the next three tiers, a story unfolded of a boy growing up, surrounded by family, working in a bakery, wrestling for sport – it was Peeta's childhood.

The little girl, now grown, re-appeared. She held the boy's hand. Kissed his cheek.

Then separation - the couple had their backs turned to each other. The boy wore the uniform of a soldier and carried a gun – just like Peeta.

The last picture on the top tier was the very scene I'd witnessed in our shop – Peeta dropping the tray of cookies when he caught sight of Katniss.

A shiver went down my back as my eyes flew to the dark-haired bride and blond groom on top of the cake.

Peeta didn't lie to the reporter.

The ring that he'd purchased – it must have originally been bought for Katniss.

How in the hell did I not know about the connection between the girl I hired to work the counter and my son?

"Did you know anything about this?" I asked Fern when she came into the refrigerator.

"No. Peeta told us everything when they drove up here on Tuesday and got the license."

"License?"

She gave me an embarrassed look. "I've said too much. You should talk to Peeta."

"That reminds me, can we borrow your wedding band to use for the ceremony?"

Fern chuckled. "Oh, that's already been taken care of."

I would have asked her more, but Greta came into the refrigerator, an orchid corsage pinned to her dress, and a panicked expression on her face. She pressed a boutonnière into my hand.

"I need to talk to you Henry. We have a big problem. We need to call off the wedding."

Her eyes flew to the sides of the cake. "Oh, no. What has Peeta done? It's much too colorful."

I put my arm round her waist and maneuvered her out of the walk-in and back into the main part of the shop, which had gotten surprisingly crowded, before she could study the cake more closely.

Guessing at how my wife would react to the news that a real wedding was about to take place, I decided to keep her in the dark as long as possible, preferably until after the ceremony occurred.

"What is it, honey?" I kept my voice even as I fixed the carnation into the lapel of my jacket. "Why do you want to stop the wedding?"

"Katniss' mother and sister are here." She pointed to two blondes, one was middle-aged and wore a corsage similar to the one on Greta's dress, the other, a teenager, wore a wrist corsage.

"Hmm, They don't look Italian to me."

"They don't, but those swarthy ones next to them are her cousins. The Hawthornes."

"So Katniss invited her family. What's the problem? We have enough cake for everyone."

Greta's voice went up an octave. "You don't understand. It's much worse than that. Her uncle just introduced himself to me as Father Abernathy from the Church of the Holy Rosary. These people are all Catholics.

"Katniss is trying to turn this into a real wedding; I'm sure of it.

"Henry, we can't let it happen. Find the boys, we need to hold an emergency family meeting." Greta looked around the bakery frantically as if trying to locate the kids.

I had no choice but to tell my wife the truth.

"We don't need a meeting. I don't know exactly how it happened, but apparently Peeta has had a crush on the girl since they were children."

Her face grew red. "I don't believe it. I'm his mother, I would have known if it were true."

"The whole story is spelled out on the cake." I put my arms around her waist to stop her from rushing back to the walk-in refrigerator to see for herself.

In the state she was in, I didn't know whether or not she'd destroy that cake. And we needed it to feed the crowd that already packed the shop and was gathering on the sidewalk outside and spilling over into Main Street.

"It's not worth calling off the wedding; they've got a license, they'll just go get married somewhere else."

Greta went pale. She put her hand on her chest, taking deep breaths, as if trying to gain her composure.

"I know this isn't what you planned for Peeta, but it's probably for the best. Now we can officially turn over the bakeries to the boys and retire."

The crowd in the doorway parted to let Peeta and Katniss into the shop. She was radiant, and so was my son, happier than I'd ever seen him.

Katniss' uncle took his place with his back to the window, and the couple stood in front of him. Katniss' relatives came closer, as did my own sons and their wives. Greta and I, however, stayed in the back.

"I don't think I can bear to watch," my wife said.

"Peeta's a grown man. Katniss is a wonderful girl, a hard worker, and has a family that clearly loves her. They'll do all right.

"So forget about them and think about freshly-squeezed orange juice, palm trees, and year-round sunshine."

As I mentioned the rewards ahead, the tense lines on Greta's forehead relaxed. Her eyes closed.

By the time the vows were recited, ending with a kiss and a cheer from both inside and outside the bakery, Greta was composed.

Phyl wheeled the cake out, and handed Katniss a knife. Her eyes grew big as she walked around it and saw the masterpiece that Peeta had created for her.

After a few whispered words between the pair, she cut a sliver from the bottom layer, chocolate with orange filling, and tenderly fed it to Peeta. He did the same for her, before Phyl and Fern stepped in and began cutting slices for everyone.

It took more than an hour to pass out paper plates with cake to the public. In fact, the store grew so warm that I held court in the walk-in refrigerator to cool off, while I talked to several local business owners, and even the mayor who'd stopped by to thank us for such a stupendous promotion.

"You've put Dandelion on the map," he said, telling us that Heavensbee claimed the article from The Dandelion Gazette had been picked up by newspapers as far away as Texas. "Everyone appreciates a love story. Especially when the only news these days has been about that loud mouth Senator Joe McCarthy."

By two o'clock, things had slowed down considerably. The cake was long gone, although the top tier had been saved and boxed up. Most of the baked goods in the display counters had been sold, as well.

I went in search of Phyl. "Let's put the "Closed" sign up and get something to eat. Is there any place open nearby?"

"There's a diner down the street. The food's good, but it's nothing fancy."

"That's okay. As long as they can seat all of us."

With my family and Katniss' relatives there were almost twenty people in our group.

"We're closing the bakery," I called out. "It's time for the wedding luncheon."

Peeta came up to me, holding the hand of his bride. His expression was sheepish. "Katniss and I are married for real, Dad."

"Yeah, I figured that out son. I'm curious though. Why didn't you say anything to me when I first brought up the idea?"

"That's my fault Mr. Mellark," Katniss answered.

"Call me Henry; we're family now."

"It's my fault Henry. I swore Peeta to secrecy."

"Why?"

Katniss gave Peeta a nervous look.

"Mom," he mouthed.

"Our backgrounds are so different," she explained. "Peeta asked me to marry him before he was drafted, but I turned him down because I didn't think it would work out."

"So what changed things?"

"I was so worried about Peeta when he was away in Korea. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd made a big mistake. So I decided to work for your family when I saw the "Help Wanted" sign in the window to see exactly how different we were from each other.

She turned to gaze at my son. "Besides it was the only way I could find out how Peeta was doing since I didn't think he'd answer me if I wrote to him. We parted on bad terms."

"I would have written back to you, Katniss," Peeta said, squeezing his bride's hand.

She smiled back at him, before turning to me. "I didn't mean to stay working for you so long, but I enjoyed the job. And I guess I was hoping when Peeta got back he and I would make up."

"I assume the Mellarks met your approval then?"

A panicked look appeared in her eyes. "I didn't mean it to sound like that, but yeah, your family may have more money and go to a different church, but you're not much different from my own family."

Looking across the room, I noticed Greta deep in conversation with Katniss' mother, about what I shuddered to think. Perhaps trying to determine the origins of Katniss' lovely olive complexion, or maybe selling her on the merits of the name "Olaf" for her daughter's firstborn son.

"Peeta had almost convinced me to elope, but when you came up with this promotional idea, it seemed like a good solution. My mom could never have afforded a fancy wedding for me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Phyl locked up the bakery and all of us walked down the street in our wedding finery to Sae's diner where we ate hamburgers and french fries washed down with Coca Cola. With a promise to Father Abernathy to stop by the rectory with a bottle of Jim Beam in a few days, Greta and I climbed into the backseat of Rye's vehicle for the trip back to the city.

"Peeta will have my car for the next week. He's taking Katniss to Niagara Falls."

Greta frowned.

"Would you rather they honeymoon at home with us?"

She shook her head. "Peeta needs to get a place of his own."

"I agree. But here's our chance to start over. Head down to Florida."

"You keep saying that," Greta said. "But I'm not sure you're ready to quit just yet."

"Oh, but I am."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

What is it about wives? Somehow they know us better than we know ourselves. Greta and I moved down to Florida in early October. It was high time too, living with newlyweds was more than we could handle. The way those two kids went at it on those warm summer evenings, I expected any day to hear news that another grandbaby was on the way.

After a short hotel stay, Greta and I got a furnished apartment by the beach. It only took a couple weeks, though, before I was bored out of my mind. I was regularly up at 4 a.m., pacing the floor, baking cinnamon rolls, and then badgering Greta to get up and eat them while they were still hot.

"Get a job Henry," she finally told me.

I ended up on the early shift at a bakery not too far from our apartment. Just after New Year's, the owner asked me if I was interested in buying him out.

"What do you think about Mellark's opening a shop in Florida?" I asked Greta, as she sat in front of the vanity brushing out her hair. Oddly all the silver streaks had disappeared once we moved south. I had no idea the sun could do that.

She made a face. "I thought you came here to retire."

"I thought I did too, but there's some energy in this old dog yet."

"You're not kidding." Greta climbed into bed, turned off the light, and curled into me as I wrapped my arm around her. Moving to Florida had reinvigorated our marriage in a lot of ways.

"We should probably make a quick trip north to see our new grandbaby if you mean to buy the business," she said. "We'll never have the time later."

"Of course," I agreed. Delly had given birth to a daughter shortly after I'd gotten my job.

I lay my chin upon Greta's loose hair. "You know I've been thinking. We'll need to do something flashy when we open our Florida shop."

She chuckled. "I'm sure you'll come up with something."

So after, when Greta drifted off to sleep my mind wandered. How much would it cost to rent a glass tank, fill it with water, and have some girls in mermaid costumes swimming around in it?

I wonder if any of my daughters-in-law know how to swim?

THE END

Author's Note: Marketing in the 1950s put great emphasis on gimmicks to draw the public's attention to the opening of a new business (or a new product). Contests, free giveaways, the appearance of a clown or a celebrity, anything and everything from pony rides to a Ferris wheel were used to garner the attention of customers.

The Korean War started in 1950 when North Korea invaded South Korea. (The country of Korea had been split into two separate countries each with it's own government back in 1948 as part of the Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union.) United Nations' forces, with the U.S. military acting as the major force, came to the aid of South Korea. (China aided North Korea, who also received help from the Soviet Union.) Over 1.5 million American men were drafted to fight in this conflict, while another 1.3 million volunteered. The fighting ended in July 1953 when an armistice was signed which created a Demilitarized Zone to separate North Korea and South Korea. However no peace treaty has ever been signed. The two countries are technically still at war.

Niagara Falls was/is a popular honeymoon destination for residents of the Northeastern United States. It's located on the international border between New York and Ontario, Canada. Visits to the site rose sharply in 1953 after the release of Niagara, a movie starring Marilyn Monroe and Joseph Cotton.

From April 1954 through mid-June 1954, the Army-McCarthy hearings, in which the U.S. Senate's Subcommittee on Investigations looked at conflicting accusations between the U.S. Army and Senator Joseph McCarthy, were nationally televised. (Senator McCarthy had gained prominence in 1950 for his announcement that he had compiled a list of 205 state department employees that were members of the Communist party.)