Page 104 of The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland
Suddenly, Astrid and Mitchell stopped dancing. Rather, Mitchell stopped, and Astrid whirled against him with a thump. Their words didn’t carry far, but their rigid body language was clear. Beatrice knew when her dad was pissed, and Astrid was a pretty easy read, too, with the way her cheeks flamed red and her crimson lips thinned.
Cordelia moved a ficus branch to see more clearly. “Trouble in paradise, you think?”
Beatrice snorted.
Astrid swept through the dancers by herself, and Beatrice would have felt sorry for her abandoned father if he hadn’t looked so furious himself. A moment later, he stormed off in the opposite direction.
Cordelia turned to face Beatrice. “Can I admit I’m relieved?”
“Hoo, boy. Me, too.”
Her sister flapped a hand in front of her face. “I don’t want to think about them anymore. What about you? Talked to Grant yet?”
Beatrice had told Cordelia a few days before that she’d wanted to get the ball rolling on the divorce. “Not yet.”
“Are you all right?”
She flexed her ankles. “Fine.”
“It’s okay.” A tinge of hurt colored Cordelia’s voice. “You don’t have to tell me—”
“No, I actually mean it. I’m fine. I’m hurt and sad, yes. But at the center of it all, I think I might be relieved.” It turned even truer as her words hit the night air. “I had no idea I wanted out, but apparently, I did. I must have, right? Otherwise… I should be more upset, I know. And Iamangry at Grant, and at the woman I thought was my friend.” She thought for a moment, testing the weight of her words. “But the anger is—oh, how do I explain this? It’s the same kind of anger I feel at Dad. It’s hot but not boiling. Does that make sense?”
Cordelia nodded slowly.
Scoville.Heat radiated from the tattoo hidden under her long sleeve, and in the dark, she could almost see Naya’s smile. “Oh, my god, I just remembered. My stepmother Naya had a scale for this—I’d totally forgotten. The Scoville Anger Scale. You know, like the heat in peppers.” It had been one of the many things her father and Beatrice had loved about Naya—that she quantifiedand listed everything, just like they did. Their household shopping lists alone could have brought peace to warring nations.
“How did it work?”
Leaning back against the wall, Beatrice said, “If I couldn’t find my homework because I put it in the wrong bookbag, that was bell pepper mad. Jalapeño mad was when I was in high school and forgot to call her to tell her where I was. Cayenne was getting a D in physics in college because I hated the professor and didn’t withdraw in time. Ghost pepper was the time she found out I drove home after a party, still buzzed.”
“Was that the hottest it went?”
Beatrice grimaced. “No, there was always pepper spray. I don’t even know what that would be for, but I bet Dad felt it a couple of times.”
“So your husband cheating on you with your friend feels like…”
“Ithinkit should be somewhere between ghost pepper and pepper spray, but it’s actually a little lower than jalapeño. Maybe sriracha sauce?”
“You could eat it with a spoon, in other words.”
“I’d rather not, but yeah. I could.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good, then. I know your feelings around it are going to be complex, and they might change, but…” Cordelia smiled. “I have to admit, I’m selfishly pleased when people I love are single at the same time I am. Makes going out on Friday nights way more fun.”
People I love.
The band started playing a faster song, and Beatrice’s head whirled like the fastest dancer.
Her sister loved her.
She wanted to say it back—she wanted to grab Cordelia and hug her tight and tell her the same thing. But she couldn’t.
Instead, she said, “I don’t want to die.”
I don’t want to lose you.
Cordelia clasped her hand. “I know.”
