4. Pearl
CHAPTER 4
Pearl
W hen Aurora and Luna suggested drinks after work, I’d agreed enthusiastically. Still, the minute I stepped into The Olde Pink House, the air immediately wrapped around me like a suffocating, perfumed cloud of history and wealth, probably because I saw Rhett at a table with Josie and his despicable friends from high school. Was he still hanging out with them? He hadn’t grown up one bit, had he?
My pulse quickened, the sound of it roaring in my ears. It wasn’t just seeing Rhett—it was seeing all of them, that same kind of group dynamic that had surrounded me by the pool fifteen years ago. Sage's polished exterior, Gray's biting comments, the casual cruelty disguised as humor. All of it came rushing back, as vivid as if it had happened yesterday.
I could still hear their voices mocking me and could still see Rhett’s smirk as he told me he didn't do seconds.
I hadn't been in Savannah for more than a week here and there in the past fifteen years, and I’d mostly avoided public places. Now, I lived here again, worked here, I couldn’t possibly hide. What did it say about the progress I'd made emotionally, that one whiff of the past, and my stomach was coiled into knots?
An emergency session with my therapist was in my very near future, for sure. I knew when I needed help, and after almost dying from not getting it before, I wasn't going to take that chance again. I didn't want to die. I wanted to live. I wanted to thrive. I couldn't do that if I kept getting triggered.
Once again, I wondered if I'd made a mistake moving to Savannah, thinking that I could handle it.
The hostess led us toward the bar, a polished mahogany centerpiece flanked by high-backed stools. This arrangement worked fine for us; we didn’t want a table, not that we’d get one. As usual, the restaurant was packed, a blur of elegant couples and well-dressed groups laughing over cocktails—Savannah’s finest.
“Pearl?” Aurora’s voice snapped me back to the present. “All okay?”
I forced a smile, nodding as I slid onto one of the stools. “Yeah, just looking around. Is that the Governor?” I smoothly changed the topic. I wanted, very badly, to tuck my tail between my legs and run the hell out of there. I'd been hungry a minute ago, now, my appetite had vanished.
"Sure is." Luna arched an eyebrow. "Let's hope he doesn't see us; I'm in no mood to hear him talk about how I need to convince Lev to run for office."
Lev was Luna's older brother by eleven months, so they were Irish twins. Lev managed the Steele lumber business. I had met him once, and it was evident that the siblings were close.
"Doesn't he know Lev at all?" Aurora shook her head. "Speaking of Lev, he's donating to Betsy's charity, so it looks like we can open another women's shelter."
The indomitable Betsy Rhodes was Aurora's mother-in-law and a force of nature, which was why she was friends with women like Nina Davenport and Aunt Hattie.
"Lev will say it's a nice tax deduction.” Luna grinned.
Aurora laughed. "He wants to pretend he's a big bad businessman, but he's a softie."
"He is not a softie, Aurora,” Luna reminded her friend. “He likes Betsy, and I think he's also a little afraid of her, so when she said, write a check, he wrote one."
Once we got menus from the bartender, Aurora and Luna dove straight into a conversation about a new architecture project they’d been assigned at the firm. They discussed the adaptive reuse concept, where Savannah Lace was turning an old textile warehouse into a modern co-working space. They were passionate about architecture as they talked with their hands. Luna’s bracelets jangled every time she pointed to make a case.
But I couldn’t focus. My eyes kept darting to Rhett’s table, where Josie was leaning into him. I caught Gary gesturing with his fork, Dixie May laughing, and Rhett, who was swirling a drink in his hand as if he didn’t have a care in the world .
“Pearl, sweetheart, what would you like?” Luna asked, obviously not for the first time.
I looked down at the cocktail menu in front of me and flipped it open. I skimmed over the drinks without really seeing them. My chest felt tight, my hands a little shaky. The thought of food, of eating anything at all while they were here, while they could look over and see me, felt unbearable.
I settled on a glass of bubbly. It wasn’t about wanting the wine—I didn’t even particularly like it. But it felt safe. It gave me something to hold, something to sip on in small amounts. It wouldn’t make me feel full, and it avoided awkward questions like, “Why aren’t you drinking?” or, even worse, “Are you an alcoholic?”
What could I say? I was like an alcoholic, only my chronic condition was diagnosed as anorexia. And, like alcoholism, you didn’t just get over it. It stayed with you, lurking in the corners of your mind, whispering doubts and lies on the bad days. Even on the good days, when I felt strong and healthy, it was there—a quiet, dormant presence I had to keep in check. Therapy helped, self-awareness helped, but the truth was, it was a lifelong battle. You didn’t cure it; you managed it, one meal, one choice, one thought at a time.
Aurora ordered a Negroni, Luna went for a Manhattan, and they both continued talking, including me here and there.
I tried to listen, I really did.
They debated the pros and cons of keeping some of the old architectural features intact, whether it was worth reinforcing the original beams or if it would be easier and more efficient to replace them entirely. It was fascinating, but I couldn’t fully connect. The past was inundating me and sending all the wrong signals to my brain.
The bartender set my wine down, and I took a sip, the cold liquid burning slightly in my empty stomach. I hadn’t eaten since lunch—just a salad, light enough that I didn’t have to think about it—and the thought of ordering off the menu now made me sick. What if they saw me eating? What if they whispered and laughed like they had back then? It was irrational, I knew that, but fear didn’t care.
Luna’s voice broke through my haze. “Pearl, what do you think? Is it worth saving the original windows, or would it look better with modern frames?”
“Oh,” I said, fumbling for an answer because I was pretty distracted. “From a finance perspective, I think refurbishing the originals would be more expensive than buying new ones. From an aesthetic perspective, the old windows have more character."
Luna grinned. “I like finance people like you who actually understand the business and look beyond the dollars and cents.”
Aurora rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “She says that now, but when I go to her to get the budget approved, she's gonna give me hell.”
I tried to smile, to focus on the warmth of their banter, but the truth was, I felt like I was crumbling. My fingers tightened around the stem of my wineglass as I snuck another glance toward the dining room. Rhett was speaking, and Josie watched him like he hung the moon .
They were in love, weren’t they? Made sense. He’d proposed to her, regardless of what Aunt Hattie said about Josie having trapped Rhett. Women didn’t do that anymore, especially since men didn’t have to marry a woman who was, as the old timers would say, in the family way .
"I need some nosh," Luna mumbled, perusing the menu. “Should we get some appetizers to share?"
I nodded in relief. This way, no one would notice that I wasn't ordering food, or ordering it and not eating anything. I hated that they still had this power over me, that just being in the same room as them could send me spiraling back into old habits, erecting familiar defenses. I hated that the idea of eating made me feel exposed and vulnerable. Most of all, I hated that no matter how far I’d come, part of me was still that sixteen-year-old girl by the pool, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.
I managed to nibble on a truffle fry. If Luna or Aurora noticed that I wasn't eating much, they didn't comment.
We'd just gotten the check and dropped our credit cards for the bartender to split the bill when Dixie May came up to us. Her husband, Gary, who I hated with a passion, trailed behind her, grinning that easy, leering grin that made my insides cave in. I remembered it well.
"Hey, Fat Pearl, my friend here give it to you good or what?"
"Well, if it isn’t the Savannah Lace ladies," Dixie May said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she stopped in front of us. "And, my word, Pearl, can't believe you moved back to Savannah. I mean…we didn't expect you'd come back, did we, Gary?"
Gary winked at me. “You're lookin' good, Bumblebee.”
Before I could answer—not that I particularly wanted to—Luna glared at Gary. "What did you call her?" she demanded.
Gary shrugged. "You know that used to be her nickname?"
"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Luna stood up. She was in full biker bitch gear. Jangly bracelets, a skull on her leather belt that was around the loops of dark skinny jeans, and a tank top that showed her muscles and the tattoo of a dragon on her right arm.
"What? It's an adorable nickname." Dixie May fluttered her eyelashes, her smile widening just enough to make it clear she thought she had the upper hand.
"You were three years our juniors in high school, but even I know there's nothing adorable about that name." Luna crossed her arms over her leather jacket and fixed Dixie May with a threatening smirk. "Now, Dixie May, as I recall, you had a nickname as well. What was it?"
Dixie May went pale.
Aurora gave everyone a serene look. "You know, bumblebees are pretty amazing, right?” She continued as if she were speaking in a David Attenborough documentary. “By all accounts, they shouldn’t even be able to fly. Aerodynamically, their bodies are too big, their wings too small, but they do it anyway. They defy the odds just by being themselves."
Luna grinned, catching on. "Yeah, Pearl. Maybe you’ve been looking at it all wrong. Bumblebees don’t give a damn what anyone thinks; they just buzz around, making the world a little sweeter."
Aurora nodded. "Exactly. Bumblebees are resilient. They’re badass. And honestly? The world would fall apart without them."
“Badass Bumblebee." Luna smiled and then turned to sign the credit card receipt the bartender had left with our bill. “Now, that’s a nickname that I can get behind.”
"That's not why she was called that," Dixie May, who was dumber than a rock, murmured. "But anywhoo , I saw you here and just had to come by." She turned and waved, and since hell was a real thing, Sage, Josie, and Rhett joined us.
Hellos and how do you dos were dropped.
"Pearl, Rhett and I are so glad that you're coming to our engagement party." Josie all but slithered all over her fiancé. "You know, your mother was worried that you wouldn't show up because of that… unpleasant business in high school."
Rhett’s jaw clenched.
My mother was Josie's Godmother because her mother and mine were friends—yeah, welcome to the incestuous ways of Savannah society.
Birdie Beaumont, my mama, was the mean girl of her time and a sidekick of the main mean girl, Suellen Vance, Josie's mama. Rhett's mother, Dolores Vanderbilt, completed the evil axis of Savannah Society, who never failed to tell me how I was less than their children .
"Tess is so fit. She does Pilates every day. You should go to the gym with her, Pearl." Dolores would show off about her daughter when she met my mother and me at a clothing store, where I was trying on size 12-14 dresses.
"Are you going to eat the whole slice of pie? Bless your heart, Pearl. My Josie keeps her figure by being careful about what she puts inside her mouth," Suellen once told me in public at a party. There had been a lot of snickering.
"I wish you were more like Josie," my mother, Birdie, said over and over.
In fact, she still said it. Now, I could ignore it. Then , it had been devastating.
"We have to go," Luna muttered loud enough for everyone and God to hear her. "Christ on a crutch, sometimes I feel like half this city's floozy population hasn't left high school."
I held back a laugh. I loved Luna. She said things people thought but didn’t have the guts to say. But Luna’s attitude was, “I’m outta fucks, ladies. I’m so the wrong person to fuck with.”
Aurora chuckled.
And then, to my surprise, Sage smiled at me. "Truer words haven't been said."
"Excuse me?" Josie was incensed and looked up at Rhett.
"You are excused," I said, smiling widely.
Luna was right—we weren’t in high school anymore. I was thirty-one, an independent and intelligent professional, and emotionally healthy…well, most of the time. At least, I was when I wasn’t living in Savannah .
"How dare you?" Josie's eyes lit up with anger, but she kept her voice down. It wouldn’t do for nice Josie Vance to let her temper show in public. It'd be in the gossip airwaves how she lost her temper when talking to Pearl Beaumont at The Olde Pink House while Governor Abernathy was dining five tables away. Ah, the scandal!
"Just because you managed to lose some weight doesn't change the fact that you are?—"
"Stop." The single word from Rhett was sharp enough to cut through the din of the restaurant and silence Josie, who looked up at him in confusion.
I was confused, too. I thought Rhett would be on her side.
“Give it a rest, will you, Josie,” Sage mocked flatly. “It’s not cute anymore, not that it ever was. And you, too, Dixie May. You came here to see if you could get a rise out of Pearl, and all you got is an ass-kicking."
Luna, Aurora, and I couldn't help but smile, and I saw that Rhett's lips had curved up as well. Gary, who should be defending his wife, had his hands tucked in his pockets, amused and drunk.
Dixie May’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes widening in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me.” Sage didn't bother keeping her voice low. “We’re not sixteen anymore, and you're not the head mean girl; what you are is a Karen ."
The room felt like it had tilted slightly. Sage, the girl who had been part of the gang that made my life hell, along with Josie and Dixie May, was defending me? She wasn’t smiling, wasn’t trying to soften the blow. She simply looked at Dixie May like she was tired of the entire act and wasn’t afraid to show it.
Before Dixie May could recover, Rhett moved closer to his fiancée. He glanced at Dixie May, then at me, he was clearly not pleased.
"Josie, let's go." He put his hand on her arm and began to steer her away from us.
“But—” Josie protested.
“Now,” he clipped.
It wasn’t loud, but it was enough. Josie straightened, her eyes flashing indignation. Dixie May looked cowed and, without another word, grabbed Gary’s arm and stalked to the exit.
For a moment, I was frozen, my heart hammering in my chest as I watched them leave the restaurant. I didn’t know whether to cry or laugh or just run out of the restaurant.
“You okay?” Aurora put a tentative hand on my shoulder.
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I think so.”
But I wasn’t merely okay . For the first time since I’d come back to Savannah, I felt supported. By Aurora and Luna, who had stood their ground without hesitation. By Sage, who had surprised me more than anyone. Even by Rhett, who, despite everything, had told his fiancée to shut up.
It wasn't enough to make me want to eat a three-course meal—but it was enough that I managed to have some pieces of smoked gouda before I went to bed that night.