Mitzi nodded. “Use whatever you want out of the fabric room. Just keep track of what you use, yardage and price, just in case someone comes in and wants to buy it right off the mannequin. Notebooks are kept in the cabinet to the right of the sink.”

“Wow!” Dixie’s blue eyes popped. “You really think that could happen?”

“You never know. Better to be prepared with a price than to stammer and stutter around. Y’all have fun. If you have any questions, I’ll be over in the sewing room.”

She was proud of the girls for their excitement and willingness to work. If only her last boyfriend had loved Mitzi just the way she was, she could have had a couple of kids by now. She hadn’t realized just how much she did want babies until the girls came into her life. More than just want. Right then it was an aching need.

The giggling and arguing could be heard across the foyer the rest of the afternoon, and more than once, Jody or Paula stopped sewing and talked about how nice it was to have the girls in the shop. She’d been right—the twins did bring sunshine and happiness into the place. But it also brought home the fact that Mitzi might never have a family if all men were like her last boyfriend.

Just before closing time, the bell on the front door sounded, and Mitzi pushed back from her sewing machine. She was surprised to see Graham standing in the foyer when she peeked out around the corner of the room. Her heart skipped a beat and then took off with a full head of steam. Her pulse raced and her hands got sweaty. Dammit! Granny should have never teased her about flirting with him.

“I got off work a little early and thought I’d pick the girls up. Thank you for letting them hang out here. That’s kind of you,” he said.

“They’re not hanging out. They’re working,” Mitzi said. “I’d be glad to pay them.”

“For real?” He cocked his head to one side.

“Sure. They can help out a couple of hours a day and make a little extra money, if you don’t mind.” Just looking at him brought back all those feelings she had when she was fifteen. Even though she wasn’t a teenager anymore, she couldn’t control that giddy feeling.

“I don’t mind at all,” he agreed. “Who’d have ever thought I’d have feminine girls who don’t give a hoot about sports? But instead of money, why don’t you offer to make them a few items of clothing? Finding things that they like is a real problem sometimes.”