Page 101 of The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland
“Yes.” And she would tell Cordelia, too. She’d convince her sister to keep it a secret but she’d also get advice on how best to help Minna and keep her safe. It was too important now to get it wrong.
Minna’s shoulders relaxed. “Good. I’ll be careful. Plus, you’ll be there, so it’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.”
That makes one of us.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Magic is so plentiful, it’s hardnotto find it. And believers, in the same way, are everywhere. You have to look, though. I say this with love, sugar: put down your phone, m’kay? Time to get out there.
—Evie Oxby,Palm Springs and Bat Wings,Netflix
The party was packed. It was fun. And it was beyond intense.
It felt like everyone had arrived at one time, en masse, carrying plates. The food tables groaned with the weight of lasagnas, sushi, chana masala, and cupcakes. The drinks station was staffed by a giggly Minna and her friend Olive.
Just outside the covered porch was a table laden not with food, but with framed photographs of guests’ deceased loved ones. The images mostly showed older people, but there were also a few heartbreaking photos of children, as well as some adorable pictures of dogs and cats (and one iguana).
Beatrice directed traffic as Cordelia had asked her to, and during a brief lull, she studied the photos. She touched the edgeof a silver frame that held the image of a woman with flame-red hair, who grinned so brightly that it was impossible to believe she wasn’t alive anymore.
This time next year, would Beatrice’s photo be on the table?
“Here, dear.”
“Thank you.” Beatrice placed the photo of a tabby next to the other cat pictures.
“Oh, youarethe spitting image of Cordelia, aren’t you? My word!”
“That’s what I hear.”
The comments kept coming.Look at you! Can you believe it? What’s that like, finding a twin? A whole family?There wasn’t an easy response to any of them.
Beatrice handled it well for about an hour. Then she found an excellent hiding spot, the little space behind the largest two planters on the patio.
It took her sister just ten minutes to find her. Cordelia grinned as she wiggled into the spot next to her. “So this is where you went to. A bit much?”
Embarrassed, Beatrice set down the empty beer bottle she’d been clutching like a life preserver. “It’s a lot.” She peered around the leaves. “It has to be the whole town, right?”
“And then some.” Cordelia pointed. “Those three are from the mainland, and that guy came all the way from Idaho.”
“And you know them all?”
“Most of them, yeah.”
“Tell me about them.” She needed to tell Cordelia about Minna’s plans, but first, Beatrice just wanted to listen, to let her sister’s voice wrap around her in the middle of the party.
Cordelia smiled and obliged, telling her about the fishmonger and his wife who ran a ship-to-shore community-supported fishery, about the head librarian who was supposedly vegan buthad been spotted in Seattle eating churrasco in a Brazilian steakhouse, and about a man with broad shoulders who’d been Cordelia’s latest sexual escapade. “If he looks like he could chop an enormous log in half with one swing of his ax, I can confirm that you’re right. And no, I won’t tell you about that night until I’m thirteen percent more drunk, but then I’ll tell youeverything.”
Beatrice laughed. “You’re such an extrovert.”
“And you try to fool people into thinking you’re one, but you’re not.” Cordelia bumped her shoulder with her own.
“Is it that obvious?”
“I don’t know. It’s hard for me to tell how other people see you.”
Beatrice picked her bottle back up. “How do you see me?”
“You’ll laugh.”
