Meet Delilah Winchester Bestselling romance novelist, lady-who-lunches, Hollywood insider. She of the Botoxed forehead, MAC-painted lips, and direct line to Oprah. My mother. There was a time when the pedigrees of neither my fiance nor my engagement ring would have mattered to her, as long as I was happy. That was then. Now she's a celebrity, and my wedding is the ultimate publicity stunt. She's got it all mapped out, from soup to nuts. Oh, and speaking of nuts. The Queen of Queens. She cooks; she cleans; she dotes on Anthony, The World's Most Wonderful Son. My future mother-in-law has her own ideas about the proper matrimonial send-off for her precious baby boy: There will be church, cannoli, and Cousin Jimmy V. singing "Fly Me to the Moon." What there won't be is Delilah's vision of WASPy nuptial perfection. Emilie, hapless bride-to-be caught between Momzillas with opposing views and sharpened claws. On one side: Carmela, guilt, and tradition; on the other, Delilah and the three Ws (Wang, Weitzman and Weinstock). When, exactly, did my big day become theirs, and how do I get it back? Damned if I know. But something's gotta give--and soon--or the wedding of the year will be short one bride.