I couldn’t wait to tell Maggie what had just happened with Mama Vermillion, but I knew there was something afoot with this “talk” we were going to have, so I decided to just play it cool until I found out how much trouble I was in.

Maggie rounded the corner from the kitchen. She was wearing a light blue apron that had streaks of flour down the front. Her hair had flour in it too, and the house smelled wonderful, so whatever was up was big. This kind of dinner was usually reserved for Christmas or a birthday so, a bit perplexed, I couldn’t help but blurt out, “Okay, honey, so what did I do this time?”

Maggie laughed and said, “Oh, sweetheart, look at those beautiful flowers! Looks like you met up with Mama Vermillion!”

Knowing damn well this was some kind of female conspiracy, I didn’t let on that Mama had already mentioned she knew I was coming over. But my man brain was just spinning at this point so all I could do was smile and say, “Yes, they are very pretty, aren’t they?”