Page 95 of Best Kept Vows

I hadn’t expected the warm welcome. These women, the kind who had always seemed untouchable, greeted me with genuine curiosity and kindness.

As people settled into their seats, Aurora made her way toward me, accompanied by Betsy. They introduced me to a few other notable women—Caroline, a formidable African-American lawyer who had won several prominent gender-bias cases, and Sylvia, a Latina who owned several restaurants in Savannah.

There were five speakers in total, and I was the third on the schedule.

The first speaker was a journalist who discussed how she was navigating writing stories about women’s issues in our time. The post-speech discussion was robust, with people asking questions and her answering them.

My nervousness only increased.

The second was an OB-GYN who talked about how hard it had become to take care of her patients in the current legal environment. She kept thinking she should leave the state but felt an obligation to stay. It was a poignant speech, and when she talked about losing a patient, I think pretty much everyone had tears in their eyes.

There was a break after the first two speakers, and I drank some water to calm my anxiety.

“What are you most afraid of?” Sebastian had asked me after I practiced my speech for the third time in front of him.

“Of letting Betsy down. Of embarrassing Ada. Of looking like a fool,” I blurted out.

“Betsy invited you, so she knows what she’s getting. I doubt you’ll be letting her down. And you could never embarrass Ada, you know that.” His gaze turned gentle. “And don’t be silly—you’re the farthest from anyone who would look like a fool. Most of the time, you’re a regal, unshakable presence.”

“Regal?”

“Yes, Lia. Don’t you see? Dolly and Coco get rattled because you’re effortlessly elegant. They try so hard to project what just comes naturally to you.”

I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “What?”

“What?”

“I thought…I thought you were ashamed of me because I wasn’t like them.”

Sebastian hung his head in shame. “Baby, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that my behavior led you to ever feel that way, because I haveneverbeen ashamed of you.”

When it was my turn, I took my place behind Betsy.

“Alright, everyone, listen up! I've got a treat for you,” Betsy’s voice carried, clear and strong. “Lia here is about to blow your minds with her story of going from homemaker to badass intern. Give it up for Ophelia Boone!"

As I stepped forward, the room filled with supportive applause, and Ada’s encouraging smile gave me theextra confidence I needed. I approached the ornate wooden podium, exhaling and steadying myself.

“Thank you, Betsy, for inviting me. It’s my firstle salon…and honestly, my daughter Ada had to ask me to stop referring to it as ahairsalon.”

People laughed.

Sebastian had told me to start with a joke to relax the audience, and then move on to the serious stuff.

“People are more inclined to pay attention to you if they think you’re going to entertain them.”

“When Betsy said she wanted me to speak about my journey from homemaker to intern at Savannah Lace, I didn’t see why she would want me to do that. I didn’t do anything special. My kids left. I was bored, so I got an MBA, and then I was lucky enough to get a job.”

I looked around the room, catching as many eyes as I could.

“Always look people in the eye, even when there’s a group of them,” Sebastian instructed. “Make them feel like you’re talking to each one of them.”

“When I walked across the stage at my MBA graduation, I expected to feel proud.” My eyes met with those of a woman Betsy had introduced me to a few minutes ago. She was in her late fifties and had just started to finish her master’s degree that she’d abandoned when she became pregnant. “But the strongest emotion I felt was fear. I was, for the first time in my adult life, stepping into a new world. A purpose outside of my home. And I was terrified.”

There was a ripple of murmurs from the crowd and nodding of heads.

“I spent twenty-two years raising my children, running a household, and supporting my husband’s career. And I was proud of that. But somewhere along the way, I forgot that I was more than just a role I filled.”

I met the gaze of another woman—an entrepreneur who’d started as a virtual assistant while juggling life with a toddler. A decade later, she ran a thriving company with a team of twenty, supporting small businesses. She gave me a nod, her eyes filled with understanding.

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