Page 69 of The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland
A line from Beatrice’sLife Expectancy: If I have one month leftchecklist flashed through her mind.I would tell Cordelia, Minna, and Reno that I want to know them.
Before she could second-guess herself, Beatrice said, “Would you like a glass of wine?”
A pause. “I don’t drink. Anymore.”
Crap. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. But she had. “Tea?”
That slow smile again. “I like tea.”
After Reno tidied her tools and Beatrice brought up two cups of tea, they sat in Beatrice’s new chairs and watched the marina close itself up for the night. Most of the sailboats were in, their sailors coiling lines and battening down sail covers. A low, squat fishing boat chugged past, heading out for the night. A man on board waved at them, and Beatrice’s heart lifted as her hand did.
Then it was quiet.
“So—” started Beatrice.
At the same time, Reno said, “Are—”
“You first,” Beatrice said.
“You’re staying? Not just a summer person?”
“I… yeah. I’m curious about what it’s like to live on a houseboat in winter.”If I make it that long.
Without hesitation, Reno said, “Cold.”
“You live in the motor home at the cemetery, right?”
“Technically it’s in Cordelia’s yard.”
“Why do you stay there?”
“What do you know about me?”
Startled, Beatrice said, “Nothing.”Except that Minna said people don’t trust you.
“Mmm. I like to keep an eye on them.” She didn’t have to specify who.
“Does the motor home get cold in winter, too?”
A nod. “I can help you get your stove to work more efficiently. If you want.”
She did want. “Yes, please.” Something about Reno—she wanted this woman around.
Reno tilted her head back to look at the sky, and Beatrice followed her gaze to the first star glimmering overhead. Or was it a planet? She couldn’t remember how to tell the difference, but it didn’t matter. The glint of light was pretty. Knowing what it was wouldn’t make any difference in the way it looked. “Can I ask you something?”
Reno kept her gaze up. “Yep.”
“How did your wife die?”
Reno’s profile remained the same, but something shifted in her posture.
Crap, she’d screwed up. “Sorry. Forget I asked.”
“No. I like to talk about her. I do. I try not to think of that day very often, that’s all. But Scarlett was…” Reno pointed upward. “She was like Venus. Glowed. Didn’t twinkle. Solid. She could hold up the weight of the world and also laugh about all the hard stuff. She was little. Not even five feet tall. People underestimated her. Men especially. Then she’d come out swinging and could knock them all down with a couple of words.”
“How did you meet?”
“Teaching. High school. She taught English.”
