“I’m Tabby, and I look horrid in that color, but oh well.” The girl rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

“And I’m Dixie. I’m the oldest by five minutes. I hate pink, too. I mean like really hate it.”

“Are y’all twins?” Mitzi asked.

They nodded.

“Only we’re not identical. My hair is darker,” Dixie said.

“And my feet are a size bigger.” Tabby’s eyes kept darting around the room, as if she were a chocoholic turned loose in a candy store.

With their clear blue eyes and translucent skin, makeup companies would fall all over themselves to sign a contract with these girls. High cheekbones and a full mouth would have plus-size catalog companies begging for the same. Thank goodness their hair was different, or it would have been difficult to tell them apart. Dixie’s black hair lay in curls down to her shoulders. Tabby’s hair was straight as a board and fell to her waist.

“What style have you got in mind?” Mitzi asked.

They both giggled.

“I thought we should teach Mother a lesson and go all southern belle with a hoop skirt and a big flouncing collar,” Tabby answered.

“And I thought we should show up lookin’ like we just came from the street corner in pink satin cut down to our belly button and up to our butts on the side,” Dixie giggled. “But I guess we should be nice.”

“Why? We haven’t seen Lizzy since we were too young to even remember her, and we’ve only seen Mother once since we were toddlers. ‘Nice’ isn’t really an option,” Tabby said. “I vote we do something they’ll never expect and not tell them until the wedding day.”

Mitzi thought of Ellie Mae and her black dress and of the client who had left just minutes ago with her dress. If Mitzi ever did fall in love, she could never keep her dress and the big day from Jody and Paula. But then, they’d probably be the very ones who made it for her.

“You know we’re like just blowin’ off steam, Tabby,” Dixie said. “Let’s just do something simple and get it over with. I don’t want to be uncomfortable all day just to make a statement to Mother.”

“Well, I can tell you one thing for sure: I’m tellin’ her exactly how I feel after this wedding is over, and you can’t stop me. I don’t care if it makes her mad at me,” Tabby said. “Now let’s talk about these nasty pink dresses.”

After Mitzi’s mama died, she and her dad still kept up the Sunday-morning-breakfast tradition. In her opinion, parents who abandoned their children should be punished severely—and a hooker dress on a teenager just wasn’t going to cut it.