Page 38 of The Cottage on Blueberry Bay

In her prime, Meredith had lived and breathed her music. At times, she’d seemed haunted by it. At one point in her life, there had never been a passing moment where she hadn’t been thinking about playing or working on her music or creating it. Every free moment had been spent in her music room. Many nights she’d stay awake finishing a piece she couldn’t stop thinking about. She’d had extreme highs and lows with her music to the point it had concerned Jacqueline.

Meredith looked at the paintings stuffed around the rooms. Was Jacob the reason her mother was worried about her waves of euphoria and devastation? Would Meredith’s highs and lows become like her father’s? Would this dark shadow that hung over her ever lift? Or would she end up like Jacob, stuck in her house and dying alone?

“Fine. It’s going fine,” she blurted out on the phone.

“I’m coming up,” Remy said, reading the situation like only a sister could. “I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Meredith said. “I think I’m coming home tomorrow anyway.”

“What?” Remy said. “Why?”

“Because I don’t belong here,” Meredith said before even thinking. But it was the truth. She didn’t belong here. “This man didn’t want me to be his daughter until he died.”

She could feel her throat closing, and she stopped talking.

“He couldn’t be your father,” Remy said. “He was unwell.”

“What?”

“He was unwell.”

“No, what do you mean?” Meredith said. “How doyouknow he was unwell.”

“Because I talked to Mom about him,” Remy said.

A strong wave of betrayal hit Meredith. “How could Mom talk toyouabout him but not me?” Meredith squeezed her fingernails into her palm. How could her mother tell Remy things she didn’t even know.

“Becauseyouwouldn’t talk to her about this stuff, and when Mom was sick, she wanted to get things off her chest.” Remy made it sound as though this was no big deal. But it was a huge deal.

“What else did she say?” Meredith immediately wanted to know the answers.

“I don’t know, just some stories and stuff here and there.” Remy paused for a second. “She didn’t talk about it a lot.”

Why did it bother her that Remy knew so much about this? Jacqueline was her mother too.

Maybe because Remy only had to hear about this man as a story; he wasn’t her actual father. She had Gordon for that.

Meredith cleared the lump in her throat. “I’m just going to leave in the morning. I will need that real estate agent you mentioned.”

“Meredith.” Remy said her name hard, and for a split second, she sounded like their mother. “Mom wantedyouto know your father.”

Meredith couldn’t hold back the tears at that point. Her throat tightened up, and she just sat there, waiting for Remy to continue the conversation.

“Meredith, stay there and let me help,” Remy said. “You have the whole summer to figure things out. Why are you rushing?”

“He didn’t want to be my father, Remy.” She said it. The truth. Jacob could have been unwell, but the fact remained that he didn’t make any effort to be a father.

Remy sighed into the phone as though Meredith was being unreasonable. “It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be a father, Meredith. He couldn’t.”

Maybe it had been that simple. Maybe his mental health had deteriorated after the accident. Or maybe not. She didn’t know because he hadn’t let her know.

“Whichever way you want to look at things, Remy, it’s still notyourfather,” Meredith said. “Yourfather loved you.”

The long silence from Remy’s end was uncomfortable for both of them.

“Meredith, I understand this is a lot for you,” Remy said, her voice calm. “But this doesn’t affect just you, it affects everyone inourfamily, whether the man’syourfather or not. We love you and we want to help.”

Meredith went to argue but stopped before she made herself look like even more of a jerk. Her sister was right.

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