Page 72 of The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland
And perhaps Cordelia had cautioned their mother against overwhelming Beatrice, because Astrid hadn’t ordered Beatrice to do or be anything yet. Today, she’d given only a small wave when she’d entered, and then she’d floated past behind Beatrice’s chair twice, both times saying, “Oh, you’re a natural, aren’t you?”
Beatricewasn’ta natural—that was a lie. (So maybe Astrid was being herself.) The needles felt clumsy in her hands, and as she wrapped the yarn around the right needle, she used herwhole body to do it. Her core muscles tightened, as did those in her neck and upper back, not just the fingers of her right hand.
Wasn’t knitting supposed to be relaxing?
She glanced at Cordelia, who was ringing up a young woman purchasing a skein of yarn that would apparently knit up into rainbow-striped socks. As if she felt the gaze, Cordelia smiled at Beatrice.I’m so glad you’re here.
Beatrice jumped.
Had Cordelia’s lips moved?
No. That was silly. But it felt like she’d heard Cordelia’s voice in her mind. She hadn’t, of course. She played it back. Her ears had heard nothing in the room but Astrid showing a woman where the size-10 needles were.
“Did you say something?” Beatrice asked, feeling immediately ridiculous. Still at the counter, Cordelia was obviously too far away to hear her over the classical music on the stereo and the chatter of a small cluster of shoppers looking at a spinning wheel.
She’d just read the sentiment on Cordelia’s face; that was all.
Had this been part of the way they’d communicated as kids? Through the mirror? More came back to her now, a thin memory of watching Cordelia’s lips move, and justknowingwhat it was the other little girl was saying, even though she couldn’t always quite hear her. Once, she’d fallen in the garden, skinning her knees. She’d showed her sister the cuts and bruises, and Cordelia had blown kisses toward them through the glass. She’d been able to feel the cool air on her knee, and together, they’d laughed.
Who would she benow, if Dad hadn’t smashed the mirror? If she’d known Cordelia her whole life?
A stitch jumped off her needle and slid into invisibility, no doubt gone forever.
The bell jingled on the door. Minna raced through, her facetight, her expression stormy. She marched to the counter and thumped her backpack to the floor.
“I locked myself out.”
“Again?” Cordelia reached under the counter and pulled out a ring of keys. “You were supposed to put the extra one in your bag.”
Minna’s outfit of the day was varying shades of bright pink and deep green. Whatever could be dipped in glitter (hair band, nails, earrings, purse strap, shoes) had been. “I did. But apparently, it didn’t stay in there.”
“Ah. It just jumped out on its own?”
A muscle jumped in Minna’s jaw. “Good, be a jerk about it. Excellent choice.”
Cordelia sighed. “You okay? How was the library?”
Minna’s back was so straight, she almost vibrated. “Fine.Fantastic. I had to do story time because Miss Liesl didn’t show, so I’m covered in kid snot, and all I want is a shower, but instead, I have to come beg mymotherfor akeyand bemockedwhile I’m at it. So yeah.” She snatched the key from Cordelia’s fingers. “I’m just great. Thanks for asking.”
She stalked toward the door, noticing Beatrice at the last moment.
Beatrice raised her needles, and two more stitches leaped to their untimely death.
“Hi, Auntie. Bye, Auntie.” Her voice was almost as surly as it had been toward Cordelia.
And Beatrice freaking loved it. Apparently there was nothing better in the whole world than being snarled at by your teenage niece. “Hey—um. I could bring you a churro from Fritz’s after your shower?”
Minna nodded as she yanked the door open. “And a hot chocolate. Extra marshmallows.Please.”
A sharp stab of happiness ran through Beatrice, and she set down the three inches of knitted travesty. What she’d just done to that yarn was probably illegal in some countries. No more knitting for the day.
Her niece needed marshmallows, and by god, she would have them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
If you need a sign, ask for a sign. What’s the worst that can happen? You don’t get one? Fine. Then you go get a bagel and a nice cup of coffee. But if you do get one…
—Evie Oxby, in conversation with Lisa Ling, on CBS News
