“It is,” Trevor agreed. “But you want to know something? The best ideas are big ideas that come straight from your gut, not your head. Ideas that give you big feelings.”

“Oh! Um …” She glanced from side to side.

“Something big. Don’t think, just toss,” he exclaimed. “Think big.”

“I hate my parents’ divorce!”

There was a pause, a sudden vacuum weighted by uncertain silence. Feet shuffled. People coughed. Then Trevor said, “All righty, then. That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Dorothy. A big idea and big feelings. So. You hate your parents’ divorce.”

She stared down at her knees and barely nodded her head.

“I bet plenty of kids feel the same way,” Trevor added.

Natalie looked over at Peach. He sat motionless, as if his daughter’s raw admission had turned him to stone. Then she noticed one of his hands was twitching.

“Sounds like a bummer. Major bummer,” Trevor said. “Now, here’s how the story works. What’s the flip side of hating that divorce?”

She kicked at the rungs of her stool, her cheeks turning red. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”

“You should. You absolutely should. Because listen. Your feelings are your feelings, and there’s no right or wrong when it comes to feelings. They just are. So is there a flip side?”

She shrugged her shoulders, lifting them helplessly up to her ears.

“There’s always a flip side. See, if I was writing the story, I’d list the things I like about the divorce. Like … having two different places to live. Two rooms to mess up! Am I right?”

Dorothy lifted her gaze to him and gave the slightest of nods.

“Have you ever had two birthday parties? One with Mom and one with Dad?”

“Yes,” she said. “And two Christmases.”

“Good work,” Trevor said. “You’re finding things to not hate about that divorce. Let’s think of another word for divorce. Because it’s one of those words nobody likes. We can do that, you know. Think up a new word for a word we don’t like.” He turned to the audience. “How about it? Any ideas?”

With gathering force, nonsense words rolled up toward the stage. Divnado. Pre-Nope. Bilgation. Madliness. Foligeddish. In minutes, laughter overtook the audience, and finally Dorothy succumbed to a fit of the giggles.

“My really smart mom used to say there’d be things in life I don’t like, but that’s no reason to stop liking life,” Trevor concluded. “Do me a favor, Dorothy. When you get home, write down ten things you really, really like. Can you do that?”

She nodded, now with her usual bright eagerness. Natalie sneaked a glance at Peach. His hand had stopped twitching.