Page 38 of The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland
“Oh,” sighed Cordelia from the floor. “No. That was just magic.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Be friendly. Be open. Think of all the people you know who’ve been physically attacked by a ghost. Can’t think of any? Yeah, me neither. Spirits just want to know you.
—Evie Oxby, Bluesky
The next morning, Beatrice woke to the sounds of the bed-and-breakfast moving around her. She stretched, resting in the puddle of sunshine that shone on the foot of the bed. Something clunked closed, a cabinet maybe, and then two different voices laughed before murmuring words she couldn’t quite make out. The sounds were so different from the noise of an all-male household, so much more melodious. When the boys were with her and Grant, the day started with bathroom clattering and shouts about missing items. When it was just the two of them, Grant always got up before the break of dawn and thumped out of the house, on his way either to the golf course or to work. He’d always said he liked to beat everyone to the office so he could work in peace. She’d never given that a second thought. Whenshe’d realized that morning must have been his time with Dulcina (he didn’t stay out late and liked to go to bed early), she’d felt like such an idiot.
The pain that came from thinking about Grant now wasn’t sharp, like she would have guessed it would be. Instead, it was a sickness rising from her gut into her gullet, a roiling mass of anger bigger than anything she’d felt since Naya’s death.
No, no, fuck Grant. He didn’t matter.
(He did. He had. But she couldn’t let him matter. Not anymore.)
Because she was changingeverything. Today.
Starting now.
A tap whispered at the door and she opened it to find a silver tray waiting on the rug, beautifully set with a silver carafe of coffee, two different muffins (one chocolate, one poppyseed), a small plate of sliced cheese covered with a linen napkin, and a pot of peach yogurt.
She sat on the bed and ate, surprised by how hungry she felt.
New life, new start.
Staying in this town for a while was a preposterous idea. It was a huge and bold and terrifying idea, and the worst part was that there was no safety net. The low gut-roll of fear and elation felt like free-falling into a roller coaster’s descent. How was she supposed to figure out which emotion was which?
Shewouldfigure it out. That was what she did, after all—she figured things out and managed them. Soon she’d call her father, and figure out exactly what had happened in the past and why he’d lied. It would all be new information, and potentially overwhelming, so she might wrangle it into a spreadsheet somehow.
Heck, even magic might benefit from a pivot table.
Magic.
Nope. She could almost hear the clang of the mental bars she dropped around the idea.
Later, she might think about things that didn’t exist.
But now, she would explore the town, which was very real.
She left the bed-and-breakfast, walking the streets that slanted and turned, continually winding away from the water and then weaving back again. She stopped to admire a particularly riotous summer garden, filled with roses and zinnias, only to be shocked that when her eyes focused at the rear of the property, she was looking at the ocean yet again. Probably, on a small island like this, water views were the norm, not the exception, but she was used to the ocean being in one place, and one place only: to the west. Here, naturally, the town was surrounded by it, and the knowledge rushed through her with a surprising intensity.
It felt nice to be encircled by the sea. No, it was bigger than that. It feltrightsomehow.
The houseboat that was for sale, according to Minna, theForget-Me-Knot, kept popping into her mind.
Which was ridiculous.
Wasn’t it?
She supposed it couldn’t hurt, though, to go down to the marina and look. First, though, when she reached the main street, she stopped at Java Express. She’d had only a quick swallow of the coffee on her breakfast tray, and she needed more caffeine, stat.
The barista with the bushy eyebrows who’d served her two days before was behind the counter again. Fritz, was that their name? They grinned as she entered. “Well, heck, you sure got me good the other day, didn’t you?”
Smiling sheepishly, Beatrice said, “I honestly didn’t mean to. I didn’t even know—”
“Iheard. Twins separated at birth? Can’t wait for the Netflix series.” They gave a wave. “I’m Fritz. Jackie of all trades, master of foam.”
She waggled her fingers back. “Beatrice, master of the spreadsheet and lover of caffeine.”
