“We’ll all be thirty-seven in five years. Now add in a year to get pregnant and deliver, and that’ll make us thirty-eight. That’s pretty close to forty, so we’d have to hustle to have a second one. Forty might be the new thirty, but after that age, having babies can get kind of tricky,” Jody said.

Mitzi had been too busy to think about a final date for having children, but now she could almost hear the proverbial clock ticking in her ears. She loved Jody and had always supported her decision to live with Lyle without a marriage license, but that wasn’t the lifestyle Mitzi wanted. She wanted the whole thing—the romance, the engagement, the big wedding, and, most of all, a husband who’d love her just the way she was. She’d thought maybe the last relationship she’d had could develop into something lasting, but he had wanted to change her.

“Think about it,” Paula said. “Even then, we’d be almost sixty by the time our child gets through college.”

Mitzi opened the fridge and got out a root beer. “Don’t you know sixty is the new thirty? I’ll still be designing and making wedding dresses when I’m eighty.”

“Me, too,” Paula said.

“What’s that got to do with having babies?” Jody asked.

“A lot,” Mitzi answered. “I plan on staying young until the day they lay me out in a coffin, so if I want to have babies after forty I’ll do it.”

Paula shivered. “Don’t talk about funerals.”

“We all got to die someday,” Mitzi said. “So my child loses me when she or he is only forty. I wasn’t even that old when I lost my mama. Or you, Paula, when your dad died.”

“Or me, when my daddy left and my mama said it was because I was livin’ in sin with Lyle. Don’t know how that could be since he left her for a younger woman,” Jody said through clenched teeth. “But the precious golden child of the church, Miss Ellie Mae, is getting married in black, so maybe they’ll pray for her instead of me every Sunday.”

Mitzi patted Jody on the shoulder. “I’ve told you for years, it’s their loss. Let’s call it a day and go home.”

“I’d rather stay here,” Paula muttered.

“What was that?” Jody asked.

“She said she’d rather stay here,” Mitzi answered. “And I don’t blame her. The minute we get home, her mama calls.”

“She has two daughters, but I’m the one she calls every day to do something. Last night it was to change a light bulb and water the plants. Then she pouts if I go home before eight and gets mad if I stay two minutes past eight.” Paula downed the last of her water and carried the glass to the sink.