“We’re tellin’ Gladys and Selena tonight, so you can’t tell anyone until after that, but Paula is pregnant. She’s getting an ultrasound today and hopefully we’ll know if it’s a boy or girl,” Mitzi said.

“Who’s the father and when’s the wedding?” her granny asked.

“The relationship was over before she found out she was pregnant. So there’s not going to be a wedding,” Jody answered. “Smart girl if you ask me. Want a glass of iced tea?”

“Gladys is going to have a pure old southern hissy fit, and Selena won’t be far behind her. Thank you for the offer, but I’d rather have an icy cold beer.” Fanny Lou picked up her hat and fanned herself with it.

Jody pushed back her chair and headed for the kitchen. “Don’t say anything until I get back.”

Full silence tracked Jody to and from the kitchen until she returned with a long-neck bottle of Fanny Lou’s favorite brand and handed it to her.

“Thank you, darlin’. Maybe this will keep me from dyin’ of a heatstroke. Old women like me shouldn’t get out when it’s pushin’ a hundred degrees, but I get bored. Besides, I just love to come visit with y’all. It makes up for all the time when y’all weren’t here in town.” Fanny Lou laid her hat back down and took a long draw from the bottle. “Now back to Gladys. She’s always been a hypochondriac. It got worse when she got pregnant with Paula. Selena was about four years old, and Gladys didn’t want another child.”

“So we were both unwanted?” Jody asked.

“Wish I could tell you different, but I can’t,” Fanny Lou answered.

“I’m shocked that you aren’t even surprised about Paula being pregnant,” Mitzi said.

“Nothing surprises me anymore.” Fanny Lou turned up the bottle again. “So what else is new around here?”

“We’re having a little dessert party tomorrow night that can also be a gender-reveal party if Paula finds out the sex of the baby. You’ll come, won’t you?” Mitzi said.

“I’ll have the bakery make a cake. Maybe pink on one side and blue on the other,” Fanny Lou said.

“If I told you I was pregnant, too, would it knock your socks off?” Mitzi joked.

“Nope, but I would tell you not to name the baby Francine and call her Fanny. I never have liked my name,” she answered. “Are you expecting? And if you are, who’s the father?”

“No, I’m not.” Mitzi grinned. “But I am jealous of Paula because I’ve always wanted a house full of children.”

“Well, I can tell you right now, I’m not a bit jealous of Paula. I wouldn’t mind having kids, but at this point, I damn sure don’t want Lyle to be the father,” Jody said with conviction. She felt like she’d dodged a bullet when that test turned up negative.

“I agree with you,” Fanny Lou said. “If you want kids, Mitzi, you might be thinking about a serious relationship. You’ll be thirty-two in less than a month, so you’re getting a late start.”

“Not in today’s world,” Mitzi said. “Thirty is the new twenty.”

“Bull crap,” Fanny Lou said. “Society changes, but women’s bodies don’t. After thirty that little nest of eggs you got inside you begins to shrivel up. So if you want a lot of kids, you’d better marry a man who’s already got a few to give you a head start, and then have one every two years until there ain’t no more eggs.”

Jody could practically hear her biological clock ticking. “Lots of women don’t have babies until they’re in their thirties, nowadays.”

“Ah, Granny, us big girls provide more warmth for that little nest of eggs than skinny girls,” Mitzi laughed.

“Hey, now,” Jody scolded.

“Honey, you’re a plus-sized girl trapped in a skinny girl’s body. You’ll break free of that cage in a year or so,” Mitzi told her.

Jody giggled. “I hope so. I liked me better when I was a little bigger.”

“I should be going,” Fanny Lou said. “I’m meeting my book club at the café at five. I’ll see y’all when it’s over.” Fanny Lou’s knees popped when she stood up. “Gettin’ old ain’t for sissies, girls. Only the strong get to do it.”

“We’re not planning to start until seven, so that works great, and you are not old.” Mitzi gave her grandmother a hug. “You’ll still be drivin’ that old truck out there and helping run this town when you’re a hundred.”

“I hope so, darlin’.” Fanny Lou picked up her hat and shoved it down on her head.

When they heard the back door shut, Jody whispered, “Is she really going to her book club dressed like that? Where does she shop anyway?”

“Garage sales. Goodwill. Thrift stores. Last time she was in a real dress shop was at my dad’s cousin’s wedding. She fussed about the price of the outfit for a full year. But then she redid her will to say that she would be buried in it,” Mitzi laughed.

“Good Lord!” Jody gasped as she got up and moved toward the foyer. “She’s a hoot. You’re so lucky to have her in your life, Mitzi.”

“I know it,” Mitzi said. “When my mother died, I couldn’t have gotten through it without her. It was tough on her, losing her only child, and at the time I thought I was helping her. She stepped into the mother role without me even realizing that she was the one doing the heavy lifting when it came to grief.”