Page 21 of The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland
For a long ten or fifteen seconds, Beatrice held her niece, and for those seconds, her mind was blank of every single thing except the feeling of this girl in her arms, the fingers that dug into her back with a tiny, sweet pulse of pain.
Finally, Minna pulled back. “Hi.”
“Hi back.” Beatrice took a deep breath. “Minna, I’m so sorry that you thought I had any judgment about you. Idohave a shitload of judgment, yes, butnoneof it is about you. You’re nothing but lovely. I’m just currently furious at my father. And my husband.”
“And at Gran?”
How could she have left Astrid off the list? “Oh, yeah. Her, too.”
“Why your husband?”
Beatrice shrugged. “He let me down in a pretty big way.”
“But… you’re not mad about me?”
The look of yearning on Minna’s face came close to breaking Beatrice’s heart on the spot, and she shook her head so hard, her neck cracked. “Never.I feel so lucky that I met you, that I have a niece, that you just happened to be in the grocery store when I was there. I’m so happy about that.” She hadn’t even known it was true until she said the words out loud.
Her niece gave a soft sigh. “I’m glad.”
“Me, too.”
Minna sat back down on the couch and, with a shy smile, patted the spot next to her.
As she sank into it, Reno moved to a woodworking area, where a half-built kayak sat on a pair of sawhorses. She had already tugged on a pair of headphones and picked up a plane. Her arms moved precisely, patiently, sending long curls of wood to the floor. She kept her eyes on her work, but Beatrice couldfeelher paying attention to her and Minna. Reno wasn’t going anywhere, obviously. She still didn’t trust Beatrice, and Beatrice didn’t blame her in the slightest.
Next to the woodworking area was a small collection of tools she didn’t immediately recognize, all gathered onto a rolling multilevel tray, the side of which was covered with stickers of Disney princesses. Some boxes held needles, according to their labels, and a red sharps container sat on the top shelf. Cords trailed from several electric tools—maybe Reno was a tattoo artist? And also a fan of Moana, Elsa, and Merida? That part didn’t quite jibe somehow.
The couch Beatrice and Minna sat on was broken in and comfortable, and the blue blanket at its foot looked cuddly. There was a miniature kitchen with a small stove and a half-size fridge. The open door let in the town’s salty air along with dusty rays of sunlight, and the whole place just feltsnug.
“Okay.” She turned to face Minna and firmly pushed away any thought of her life outside this room. There was just this girl, this one right in front of her, the one with the perfect winged eyeliner (seriously, what brand was that?) and eyes that, even so piercingly blue, reminded Beatrice of her own boring, round brown eyes. How was that possible? She wanted to stare at Minna for hours. Days. She wanted to examine each finger, the curve of her ear, the crook of her elbow. She was perfect.
No, cut it out. Minna wasn’t a baby, and Beatrice didn’t want her brain to freak out even more than it already was. “I can’t believe I get to talk to myniece. Can I ask you some questions?”
Minna smiled hugely and nodded.
“What’s your favorite color?”
Her response was instant. “Green.”
“Me, too!”
“You’rekidding.”
Warmth spread in Beatrice’s chest. “I would never joke about something like that. What grade are you in? I mean, at the end of summer, what grade will you go into?”
“I’ll be a junior.”
“Do you like school?”
“I hate it with the fire of a million exploding stars.”
“That’s a lot of fire. Favorite subject.”
Minna squinted at her. “Art.”
“Oh! What kind of art?”
Her face remained cautious. “Um. I draw.”
