Lucretia Quinn

The new date has caused some family friction because it's the same day as the long-planned California wedding of lawyer Greta Bradlee, who very much hoped her grandfather would be there. Ben's firstborn grandchild (he has 10) and the first to marry, she is the daughter of journalist and author Ben Bradlee Jr. of Cambridge, Mass., and his former wife, Washington-based ABC News correspondent Martha Raddatz. Ben Jr. is the oldest of the three children the longtime executive editor of the Washington Post sired during his two pre-Sally marriages.

The parents of the bride declined to comment on any aspect of the dueling weddings, but other sources told me there was no advance word from Sally about the scheduling change, nor any explanation provided as to why she had settled on a date for her son's ceremony that will prevent her husband from attending his granddaughter's wedding in California.

... Sally has some experience in wrangling wedding guests away from a competing event. In "The Party," her 1997 book on entertaining, she wrote that after marrying Ben in a judge's chamber in 1978, the newlyweds planned a celebratory dinner at their home for 30 or 40 friends. Trouble was, half of them had already committed to dining with the British ambassador, Peter Jay, and his wife Margaret. Ben and Sally were also invited, she makes clear, but had begged off. She might have simply explained to pals why they should bail on their diplomatic hosts, but she contends Ben "didn't want to get scooped" by the rival Washington Star if word leaked out.

"When I called everyone to invite them to 'dinner,' they all declined, and I had to coerce them into coming without revealing why....What I did tell them in my sternest voice [was] that I was calling in my chits, that this was extremely important and I wanted them to get out of the Jays' party and come to mine. They must have heard the resolve in my voice because they did it. We had to contend with a number of grudging guests at the beginning of the evening, but once they saw the wedding cake and the white lilies everywhere, heard a few mushy toasts, and drank several glasses of champagne, they were mollified, and it turned out to be a wonderful evening." Quinn makes no mention of whether the jilted Brits were equally amused.

I'm going to discuss a drama unfolding in our family, and I'm discussing it only because others have made it public and messy. It's a conflict that I hope readers can understand -- and avoid in their own lives.

Our son Quinn Bradlee is marrying Pary Williamson in Washington on April 10. My husband's granddaughter Greta Bradlee is getting married the same day in California. In the past few days there have been a spate of negative stories, both online and in print, about the "dueling weddings." It's been hurtful to all four of these wonderful young people. This "dueling" characterization couldn't be further from the truth.

The unfortunate result of the dates being the same was an inadvertent mistake on my part. My error had nothing to do with the two couples who will wed that day.

I once wrote a book called "The Party," which became the name of this column, and one of the things I wrote about was how even the so-called experts screw up. I am no exception. Greta, the daughter of my husband's son Ben Bradlee Jr. and ABC's Martha Raddatz, planned her wedding last fall and sent Save the Date cards. I gave ours to my husband to put the date on his calendar, and he did not. A warning to wives everywhere!

Quinn and Pary decided on Oct. 10, 2010, as their wedding date. Over Christmas, Greta's mother and I came to an understanding that, because of existing tensions, it would be best for all if none of us attended Greta's wedding. Then, in mid-January, we were thrilled to learn that Pary is pregnant, due Sept. 21, and decided to move up the date as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately, our church does not do weddings during Lent or Easter. The only date we could arrive on when both church and minister were available was April 10, and the next wasn't until after Memorial Day.

Frantically, I checked my calendar, my husband's, Greta's aunt's, and her cousins' -- everyone had the date free. Each gave the go-ahead. We were also lucky enough to find that the band we had booked was able to make the date change, as well as the photographer, the planner and the attendants. Pary had found the perfect dress, which we bought. It all seemed serendipitous, so we booked everyone and ordered the invitations.

Anyone who has ever hosted a wedding knows the maddening details involved. Locking things down seemed such a relief. Then came the revelation. Two weeks or so later, my husband's son learned of the new plan. Happily, we did not have a single overlapping guest. We had already decided not to go to the California nuptials. And, by then, it was too late to change the one in Washington. We decided to go ahead.

It never occurred to any of us that my mistake would be a story, much less a gossip item that proved so upsetting to the two couples.