Read Confederates Don't Wear Couture for Free Online

scheme was echoed in my vintage print Alice in Wonderland tee, for Pete’s sake!
    â€œShe means we need to wear period costumes,” Dev drawled. “I saw where your mind went.”
    â€œOh, no, honey, you look fine,” Tammy assured me as we drove past a sign proudly proclaiming PINE LEVEL: THE BEST LITTLE PLACE TO LIVE !
    Dev snorted.
    â€œIt’s just that those old goats will crucify you if you show up in any kind of pants. Or anything that came into vogue any later than 1864,” she said with a smirk. “And you can’t come back from that. First impressions are everything with these old judgie-wudgies.”
    â€œI always make an impression,” Dev said grandly.
    â€œHoney, of that I have no doubt.” Tammy turned down a driveway, passing a swinging white sign that read SWEET HOME-AWAY-FROM-HOME ALABAMA BED AND BREAKFAST .
    Around the corner, a gorgeous pale pink Victorian complete with wraparound porch, turrets, and gingerbread on the eaves materialized out of the trees. We pulled up right in front, under another SWEET HOME-AWAY-FROM-HOME ALABAMA sign hanging over the front porch.
    â€œOh, how beautiful.” I sighed. “It looks just like my old dollhouse!”
    â€œThat’s exactly what I was goin’ for.” Tammy turned off the car. “Welcome to Pine Level’s best B&B!”
    â€œDev, which suitcase should we open?” I asked as we all climbed out of the minivan.
    â€œNone.” He patted his carry-on with assurance. “I planned ahead. Everything we need is in here.”
    â€œCome on in, y’all, come in!” Tammy called from the porch. We scampered after her.
    Inside it was just as cute—a vision in soft butter walls and rose-printed curtains. We stood facing a little check-in desk that opened onto a parlor with overstuffed couches and stacks of board games on a mahogany coffee table. Another door, cracked open, led to a formal dining room.
    â€œSouthern chic!” Dev approved. “Love it.”
    â€œNow, the house has been in the family since it was built in the 1880s, but it was me and Mr. Anderson—God rest his soul—who converted it into a B&B. Not too long before Beau was born, matter of fact,” Tammy explained, as she led us up the stairs. “Not too many guests here right now. Any, actually. Gets quiet in the summer. Not surprising.” She chuckled ruefully. “Most folks aren’t brave enough to face ’Bama in this heat!”
    â€œI fear nothing,” Dev proclaimed.
    I feared heat stroke just a little bit. But I decided to keep that to myself.
    â€œFearless. Just like me.” She smiled. “I knew we were gonna get on great. A boy after my own heart. Now,” she said, stopping at the top of the stairs, poised before the threshold of a door bearing a hand-painted sign with a picture of a big pink flower on it. “This here’s the Camellia Room.” She indicated the door. “State flower of Alabama!” she added proudly. “Y’all can change in there. There’s a screen, honey, so you can have some privacy.” She smiled at me. “Now, most importantly, y’all ever had sweet tea? Real sweet tea?”
    We shook our heads.
    â€œOh, y’all are in for a treat!” She clapped her hands. “I’ll fix us some while y’all freshen up. Come on down to the parlor when y’all are set.”
    Tammy headed down the stairs, and I pushed open the door to the Camellia Room. It must have been the room inside the turret, because the pale pink walls curved around us. Lace curtains fluttered at the window and hung down from the canopy bed. I flung myself onto it.
    â€œI think this is what heaven looks like,” I said, sighing.
    â€œLibby Kelting heaven, maybe,” Dev replied. “I think heaven is a flock of male models skinny-dipping in a sea of iced coffee.”
    â€œLet’s just stay here forever,” I