Vows of Silence. Debra Webb

of unspoken rule.

      An Irish folk selection emanated from the jukebox as Lacy and Melinda settled into a booth at the back of the dimly lit establishment. “Two beers, please,” Lacy told the waitress, who appeared reluctant to leave their table without an order. The place was too busy for the help to dawdle, she supposed. And getting the waitress’s attention again might not be an easy feat.

      When the perky young woman scurried away in a flash of Kelly-green short shorts and long tanned legs, Lacy directed her attention across the table to Melinda. “This is better, don’t you think?”

      Melinda surveyed their boisterous environment. “When we were teenagers it was better.” She smiled faintly. “Now it’s just loud.”

      Lacy laughed, a weary but relieved sound. Man, they were getting old. She’d turned thirty-three last month. Melinda, the youngest of the group, was next in line. She was an Independence Day baby. How had so much time passed so very quickly?

      “We’re not that old,” Lacy protested, more in an effort to convince herself than her friend. “We could still party with the best of these guys if the urge came over us.” She glanced at the twenty-somethings clustered around the bar. Fashionably thin and dressed in the latest fads, they weren’t really that different from Lacy and Melinda ten years ago.

      Before that night.

      Lacy swallowed, her muscles constricting with the effort. He’s dead. We’re in this together.

      The waitress plunked two chilled mugs of foamy beer before them. “Anything else?”

      Shaking off the memories she’d come here to get away from, Lacy lifted her mug and took a sip of the refreshing beverage. She licked her lips as the cool liquid slid down her parched throat. “We’re good,” she replied, dismissing the long-legged waitress with the impossibly large breasts she had only just now noticed. She shook her head as the woman hurried to a table where three men waved their empty mugs, tongues practically lolling out of their mouths more from the tremendous boobs headed their way than the lack of hops in their glasses.

      “What’s wrong?” Melinda ventured cautiously.

      Lacy glanced down at her own minimal chest then at her friend. “Those breasts can’t be real.” She arrowed her gaze in the direction of the waitress. “Hell, they don’t even jiggle, and she can’t possibly be wearing a support bra under that skintight tank top.”

      Melinda watched the woman flit from table to table. “You’re right.” She frowned, considering. “You know, I think that’s Wade Hall’s youngest daughter. I’ll bet her daddy sprang for a boob job in hopes of getting rid of her. All of her sisters are married already. You know how it is around here. If you’re still single when you turn twenty-five, they think you’re an old maid and an embarrassment to the family.”

      “Well,” Lacy said, and shrugged, still tracking the perky waitress’s progress, “they certainly detract from the crooked teeth and slightly crossed eyes.”

      A bark of laughter burst from Melinda, the sound almost painful. Lacy smiled, thankful for even that bit of relief from the tension. “It’s true,” she insisted, restraining her own building mirth and hoping to encourage Mel’s. “I wonder if her daddy even considered an orthodontist and an ophthalmologist before he coughed up the dough for the tits?”

      Melinda laughed outright then, and once she got started, she couldn’t stop. When the non-jiggling waitress bounced past once more, Lacy erupted into her own fit of elation. She laughed until tears streamed down her face. It felt too good to stop. Each time her eyes met Melinda’s, the convulsive laughter started all over again.

      “This is definitely not the scene I expected.”

      Lacy’s head shot up at the sound of Cassidy’s crisp voice. The fourth member of their group, Kira, stood right behind her. “You guys made it!” Swiping at her damp cheeks, Lacy scooted out of the booth and stood to give Cassidy and then Kira a hug. Melinda did the same.

      “Was there any doubt?” Kira drew back and smiled at Lacy. “Girl, you look good.”

      “So do you.” Lacy surveyed her friend with approval. “I love your hair longer.”

      Kira touched her shoulder-length, corkscrew curls. “The curls I hated growing up are all the envy now.” She winked. “Besides, Brian likes it this way.” A cell phone chirped and Kira dug into her purse. “Speak of the devil, this will probably be him.”

      Lacy vaguely remembered that Kira had gotten engaged to a Brian earlier this year. She couldn’t recall Kira looking better, or happier. Despite being black in small-town Alabama, Kira had been accepted without condition considering the Jacksons were quite wealthy. Even a mere twenty years ago that had been a major feat. Kira turned her back and lowered her voice but Lacy heard the sudden tension in her tone. The change dragged Lacy out of the past. Apparently Brian wasn’t happy about Kira’s unplanned trip south.

      Trying not to be nosy, Lacy shifted her attention back to the leader of their little posse. Cassidy. Still striking in her own right, Cassidy’s dark auburn hair remained short, with not so much as a strand out of place. The unusual color of her hair and the sparkling green eyes provided a vivid contrast to her pale, porcelain skin and sharply defined features.

      Guilt suddenly swamped Lacy. It had been too long since they’d all gotten together. Years. Three to be exact. Not since the memorial service for Charles, and then the visit had been excruciatingly brief. Seven years after his inexplicable disappearance he had been deemed deceased by the powers that be. The girls had assembled in support of Melinda and her children…and they hadn’t been back together since.

      They should never have allowed so much time to pass. She sighed and gave Cassidy’s arm a squeeze. “Cass, it’s been too long. You look terrific.”

      “Life is good, what can I say?” Cassidy cocked her head and fixed Lacy with an analyzing expression. “You didn’t tell me you made senior partner at your firm.”

      Lacy felt a flush of embarrassment rush up her neck. She should have done a better job of keeping up with her friends. “This has been a busy year. I don’t think I’ve written anyone.”

      “You do have e-mail, don’t you?” Cassidy looked more hurt than accusing. “Everyone else in the world does.”

      The road had been long and hard for Cass. Though smart and beautiful, this deep in the Bible belt there were some things that came as close as you could get to the un-pardonable, despite family wealth. Choosing not to go along with the set standard of sexual preference fell slap into that category in these parts. But in San Francisco it was a whole different world. Cassidy was no longer an outcast. She was a partner in a prestigious law firm.

      “Besides,” Lacy teased placatingly, “I couldn’t let you get too far ahead of me.”

      Cassidy smiled briefly, then turned to Melinda. “How are you holding up, Mel?”

      “I’m managing,” she said, but her voice wavered in spite of her brave smile.

      “Are you guys staying?” The big-breasted waitress wanted to know, no doubt already counting on a larger tip with two additions to the table. She eyed Kira suspiciously.

      Lacy tensed. Had nothing changed in this damned town? The color of one’s skin shouldn’t dictate the quality of service.

      “We’ll have what our friends are having,” Kira replied as she dropped her phone back into her bag. “Unless you have a problem with that.”

      The waitress shrugged one bare shoulder, and her expression instantly shifted to indifferent. “Whatever.”

      Kira turned back to her friends and added offhandedly, “Anything that could have you two howling with laughter considering our current predicament and is legal in this state, I definitely want some of.” She scooted into the booth they’d vacated and Melinda settled in next to her.

      Lacy didn’t bother explaining