Mitzi would far rather be inside cooking than mowing the lawn, but she had no choice. It was her turn. Paula had taken care of it last week. She inhaled one last breath of cold air before she opened the car door and headed across the yard. Once inside, and before she could talk herself into putting it off for another day, she changed into shorts and a tank top. She’d just finished mowing the lawn when Paula drove her pickup truck into the driveway. She carried a milkshake in each hand and handed one off to Mitzi as she slumped down on the porch step.

“What’s this plan you had for this evening?” Paula asked.

“It was an excuse, but we could say we were planning to cook supper together.” Mitzi shrugged. “But I’m not hungry after drinking this.”

“Me, either,” Paula said. “Why in the hell didn’t we put our shop in Tulia or even up in Greenville instead of Celeste? Then Mama would be hollerin’ at my sister, Selena, instead of me, but since she lives twenty miles away and is married—” Paula stopped. “End of rant, because we’re here and we can’t undo what’s done.”

“Seemed like the right thing to do at the time. We should get your mother involved in something,” Mitzi said.

Paula finished off her milkshake with a slurp. “You mean other than sit in her recliner, watch television, and think up things for me to do? And don’t even start in on letting her come to the shop. She’ll drive us all crazy. I’m going to drive down to Selena’s place to talk to her about helping out more.” Paula looked downright glum, making Mitzi wonder if maybe she was going to talk to her sister about more than just helping out with Gladys.

“Threaten to move Gladys in with her,” Mitzi suggested.

“I want her to help, not give her a heart attack. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll probably be late.” Paula set her empty cup on the porch and stood up. “See you in the morning, if not before.”

Mitzi picked up both cups and carried them inside. Her thoughts went back to Dixie and Tabby and how excited they’d been about the whole business of creating bouquets for the mannequin. Maybe if they were really good at floral arrangements, she could turn one of the upstairs rooms into a little flower shop. They could earn a little money making up the corsages and boutonnieres for weddings.

She groaned when it finally dawned on her that she’d promised the girls that she’d have flowers there the very next day. That meant taking a shower and going to Greenville to buy them that night. While she was letting the cool water wash away all the sweat, she made a mental list of all the places that would be open after five.