The drive from Celeste to Dallas had been so much fun that Mitzi completely forgot that Rita would be at the wedding. So it was a shock when she looked up and saw Rita coming across the parking lot toward the van. Wearing high-heeled shoes and a cute little strapless red sundress that barely reached her knees, she looked downright beautiful. Mitzi’s blue-and-white checked shirt and white capris that had looked pretty cute that morning suddenly felt dowdy.

“Hello, Rita,” Mitzi said cheerfully as she opened the passenger’s door. “You probably don’t remember me. I was just a freshman when you and Graham were seniors. I’m Mitzi Taylor.” It wasn’t easy to be nice to that witch, but she could do it for the girls’ sake. After all, Rita was their mother, and if this new relationship between Mitzi and Graham was to go anywhere, Mitzi needed to be an adult, not the mud-slinging hussy that she so wanted to be right then.

“I remember you well.” Rita’s eyes started at Mitzi’s sandals and traveled slowly all the way to her red hair. “You’ve always been . . .” She paused a second before she said, “Tall.”

“Never was accused of being petite.” Mitzi grinned and turned her attention to the twins, who’d gotten out on the other side of the vehicle. “You girls need some help?”

“And now you’re kind of like the girls’ nanny, right?” Rita sneered.

“I’m their friend and they work for me.” Mitzi turned her attention back to the girls. “Your dad and I’ll help you get all this inside. Don’t try to take care of it all on your own.”

Rita followed Mitzi to the back of the van and barely glanced at the girls. “Those are nice dresses. I didn’t know what you might choose, but they’ll cover up . . .” She covered a fake cough with her hand before she said, “They will look good on you.”

Mitzi moved over to stand closer to the girls. “They helped with the design. And they’re teaching themselves to sew. They made the cutest little shirts for the Fourth of July fireworks. They’ve probably told you that they’ve been making all kinds of corsages and bouquets for us at the shop.”

“I haven’t talked to them in a while,” Rita said.

Mitzi was glad she had both hands full so she couldn’t slap the woman.

Tabby pulled out a tote bag and a small suitcase on wheels. “We love going to the shop every day. It sure beats sittin’ at home all day, redoin’ our makeup and fingernail polish.”

Dixie was right behind her with her suitcase. “Daddy, if you’ll get my makeup bag with all our makeup in it, that’ll just leave the shoe boxes for Mother. Wait until you see the shoes that Mitzi dyed to match our dresses, Rita—I mean, Mother.”