Quincy ended his call and rejoined them on the porch. “Cake looks great, and I am thirsty. That was the Realtor that has the property. We were discussing my offer,” he said. “I don’t know that I caught your name.”

“Mitzi Taylor,” she said. “And I should go on back inside.”

“Hey, are you kin to Harry Taylor?” Quincy asked.

Mitzi stopped at the door and turned around. “He’s my father.”

“Good man. I’ve had some dealings with him in the oil business. He’s the one who used to inspect things until he retired.” Quincy sat down in the chair and turned his attention to Jody.

“See y’all later.” Mitzi escaped back into the house to find Ellie Mae sipping sweet tea and having an Oreo.

What a day, Mitzi thought as she sank down onto the sofa across from Paula and Ellie Mae. Instead of floating on air because Graham kissed me, I’m wrung out from all this drama. I wonder if he thinks I’m still a virgin—that since I’m a larger woman, no man would’ve ever wanted to go to bed with me.

“I’ve got to make a bathroom run,” Paula said as she pushed up from the sofa. “Too much lemonade this afternoon.”

“I understand, and I think Mama might be getting suspicious about me needing to go so often,” Ellie Mae said. “This tastes even better than ice cream.”

Mitzi suddenly felt guilty because she hadn’t thought to get out a quart of ice cream and four spoons. That was the standard problem solver in her friendship with Paula and Jody. “Would you like a bowl of ice cream?”

Ellie Mae took another cookie from the package. “Not when I can have these. I’m a chocoholic.”

Paula covered the short distance from the small half bath at the end of the foyer and sat down beside Ellie Mae. “Sometimes ice cream works. Sometimes it takes cookies. Feelin’ better? Ready to talk to him now?”

“Not yet. He really hurt my feelings,” Ellie Mae said.

Jody came inside at the same time someone knocked on the back door.

“I bet that’s Granny.” Mitzi headed that way, not ready to talk about the Rita-and-Graham situation with Fanny Lou but glad for an excuse to get away from the foyer drama again. She practiced her we’re taking it real slow speech all the way through the kitchen. No way was she telling her granny about the kisses.

She unlocked the door and opened it to find Clinton Ballard. His face was set in stone, and his arms were crossed over his chest.

“May I help you?” Her tone dripped icicles, but she couldn’t help it.

He opened the screen door. “I want to talk to Paula.”

Mitzi blocked his way into the kitchen. “Too bad. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“So she told you about us, did she?” he growled.