Emily forced a nod. “Sure. I should be able to come.”
Violet cleared her throat, drawing the attention of all seated at her table. “We have months before the reunion. Let’s talk about us.” She turned to Emily. “You should see my boys,” she practically purred. “They’re just like their father. Adorable.”
Violet went on and on about her perfect husband and her perfect house. She had never worked or attended college. Her life was too busy and, of course, too perfect for her to need anything else in the way of personal gratification. She looked exactly as she had back in high school, thin, tall, and not a hair out of place. Violet had married the boy Heather had loved, Keith Turner. No matter how much time passed, Emily would always consider Keith to be Heather’s boyfriend, but she kept that to herself, like a thousand other things.
Emily happily zoned out, barely paying attention to Megan’s and Cathy’s insistence that a Pilates-yoga combination was far better than yoga alone. Their husbands all appreciated that they’d kept their figures.
“Good Lord,” Violet said abruptly, once more retasking the conversation back to her, “that can’t be the senior necklace?”
Emily’s gaze shifted to Cathy, who lifted the delicate gold chain from her throat. “I couldn’t get together with all of you andnotwear it.”
“I’ve got mine,” Megan chimed in, dangling hers from her fingertips. “Cathy called and suggested I wear it. Go, Panthers!” She turned her exuberant expression to Emily. “Do you ever wear yours, Em?”
“Mine was put away . . .”
The look on Megan’s face told Emily she didn’t need to say any more.
Violet made a sound of dismissal. “I’d almost forgotten about those. I must have lost mine.” She pointed a frosty look at Cathy. “And even if I could find it, no one called to suggest I wear mine today.”
Cathy dismissed the jab with a wave of her hands. “You wouldn’t have wanted to wear it anyway.”
The sixteen-inch gold chains held two charms, a cheerleader and a megaphone. The senior cheerleaders had gotten one that year instead of the traditional charm bracelet. The necklace had seemed so important back then, marking a rite of passage and setting a new tradition. Maybe they’d all just wanted to be like Justine. Sexy and beautiful. She’d worn her necklace as proudly as any of the girls.
“So, how are things in Birmingham?” the perfect Violet inquired with a gleaming smile, her irritation at Cathy forgotten for the moment.
“Things are great,” Emily lied. They would never know the difference. “I’m not married, no kids. I’m the head of my department. I live in an apartment near work.” She hoped that was sufficient, because that was as good as it got.
“Your mother said you were in research,” Megan enthused. “That must be really interesting.”
Reports. Files. Oh yeah, very interesting. “Sometimes,” Emily lied again. She was becoming very adept at lying, particularly to the people who were supposed to mean something to her.
“Isn’t it funny that hardly any of us ended up doing what we thought we would back in school?”
Cathy had a valid point. Everything had changed afterthatnight. They’d all taken different paths.
“That’s right,” Violet agreed in her perfect I’m-better-than-all-of-you-combined style. “If I remember correctly, Cathy, you were going to be an attorney.”
“And you were going to marry a rich husband,” Cathy shot right back. “Looks like one of us got what we wanted. Just as well,” she added. “You’d have had a hell of a time with college anyway, if your graduating GPA was any indication.”
“I was going to be a journalist,” Megan volunteered, cutting off the no-doubt scathing remark Violet would have launched. “I married one; does that count?”
An unexpected smile nudged at Emily’s lips. Megan had always been an expert at avoiding and/or derailing trouble.
Violet turned her attention back to Emily. “You were going to medical school, weren’t you, Em?”
“Medical research was as close as I got,” Emily confirmed, hoping she wouldn’t have to field any other prying questions.
“I have to know,” Cathy said in a hushed voice. “Were you still a virgin senior year?”
That she was looking directly at Emily should have clued her in.
“I only slept with one guy before senior year,” Megan confessed, ever the mediator. “Grady. We never broke up once all through high school.”
“Of course she was a virgin,” Violet said knowingly, totally ignoring Megan. “She was waiting for Clint Austin to sweep her off her feet.”
Emily compressed her lips together and rode out the shock that radiated through her. These people were supposed to be her friends?
“A lot of girls were obsessed with him,” Cathy noted without giving Emily the chance to enter the discussion. “He was damned hot. If I hadn’t been so in lust with Mike, I might have fallen for him.”
