“Honey, you can call it whatever you want, but marriage is not another word for sex. Marriage is a sacred agreement between two people to live together and love each other through good times and bad and through poverty or riches. It’s about sticking together side by side even when you want to shoot him and throw his sorry carcass out for the coyotes’ supper,” Pearl told her.

“Nana!” Mia gasped. “You never felt like that about Poppa. Y’all have had a perfect marriage.”

Pearl stopped what she was doing and gave Mia a hug. “You just keep believing that. I wouldn’t burst that bubble for all the dirt in Texas.”

“She’s right,” Addy said, “and as much as I love your father, there are times when he’s lucky that he’s not breakfast for the coyotes.”

Mia’s blue eyes almost popped out of her head. “Mama! I thought you and Daddy never had a disagreement.”

“We don’t”—Addy took a bowl of cranberry salad from the refrigerator and put it on the table—“at least, not in front of the family. We settle our differences in the bedroom and then have amazing makeup…”

Mia stuck her fingers in her ears and started singing, “Fa-la-la-la.”

Stevie laughed so hard that she had to peel a paper towel from the roll and dry her eyes with it. “How do you…” She finally got control, then got the hiccups. “Think you got here, Mia? Parents do have sex.”

“I know all that, but I don’t want to hear about it from my mama”—she shot a look over at Pearl—“or from my nana. I want to think that they found their kids under a cabbage plant in the garden or else the stork brought them on a stormy night. And besides, this is a first date with Beau. I’m not going to marry him or anyone else next week.”

“Well, thank God for that!” Addy wiped her forehead in a dramatic gesture that was obviously fake. “I was worried about having to get a wedding planned in just seven days.”

That comment made Stevie’s thoughts go toward a wedding of her own. Would she want a long engagement, maybe live with a guy for six months or a year before they took that mile-long walk down the aisle? Would she even want the big dress and the wedding cake, or would she rather just take an hour out of the day and go to the courthouse?

“Oh, Mama,” Mia sighed. “You don’t have a thing to worry about. When I get married, I want the whole enchilada—the big dress, the flowers, and the cake. I want to have music and dance with my groom, and then with Daddy while you dance with the groom. I don’t want to elope, and believe me, I will give you a lot longer than a week to plan the wedding.”