Page 72 of The Cottage on Blueberry Bay

She looked at him. “Well, I’ve never been on a boat before, so I’d really like to see what it’s like before I even think about selling it.”

“Okay,” Quinn said.

“But, in the meantime, I think I’m going to start selling his art,” she said. “There’s no way I can display all of it for my own use. Remy thinks I should have an auction. I would rather people enjoy his work than have it hidden away and slowly destroyed by mildew in an old barn.”

He sat up at the prospect of her selling the art and holding onto the boat for now. “That sounds like a great idea.”

“Remy keeps telling me to look at Jacob’s cottage as a gift.” Meredith turned to Quinn, her gaze set on his, and fire danced in her eyes as she said, “I think she may be right.”

CHAPTER27

Meredith woke to another night of great sleep and could feel somethinghadchanged with her. She could feel a shift. She didn’t have that stab of pain at waking up alone. She didn’t grab her phone to see if Phillip had called, even though she knew he wouldn’t. She didn’t dread the day that lay ahead of her but looked forward to it. And she looked forward to seeing someone.

The thought of Quinn walking her home made her smile. When was the last time a handsome man had walked her home? Had Phillip even?

She loved her husband…ex-husband, but he wasn’t one for opening doors and making sure she made it home. He never checked to see if she was okay or brought home chicken noodle soup when she was sick. Besides money, Phillip never really took care of Meredith at all.

And now, with the divorce, he didn’t even offer her share of their money but, instead, he legally took it from her.

Maybe she did need a lawyer—not some negotiator like Phillip had suggested at the beginning of his mess.

She could feel the usual anxiety start to make her restless. She threw back the blankets and went straight to the window and threw it open. She stuck her head out, closed her eyes, and inhaled. Two seagulls swooped by feet away from her head, and it made her jump, which made her hit her head, and she opened her eyes to see Remy on a yoga mat on the back porch, stretching her arms up to the sky.

“You okay?” Remy asked in her sun salutation.

Meredith grabbed her head. “I’m good. Just clumsy.”

The sun just peaked above the line on the horizon, and Meredith froze at the sight of it all. Pinks, lavenders, fuchsias all spread across the whole span of the sky. The world looked as though it had been set ablaze.

When Meredith went downstairs, Remy came inside with a towel wrapped around her neck.

“Let’s go swimming,” Remy said.

Meredith’s first instinct was to say no, but she stopped herself. Why was she saying no first?

“Let me make a cup of coffee,” she said.

Remy beamed as she said this. The two sisters made hot drinks and took them as they walked along the sandy path through purple lupines and pink beach plum roses, giggling like two schoolgirls on an adventure.

“I bet Mom’s watching us right now,” Remy said.

“I bet she is,” she said to Remy.

To get to the beach, Meredith learned from Quinn to follow the smaller path along the rocky side of the cliff, not the grassy path around, even though it looked safer. Like a mirage, the grassy path looked like it led to the beach, but it only led the traveler to a high vista and a dead end.

Carefully, they climbed through the granite rocks, holding the cold stone with one hand, and their drink in the other until they reached the beach.

“Do you know what this beach is called?” Remy asked.

“No.” Meredith shook her head. Out on the horizon, a lobster boat sped along the water. Its engine quietly roared from a distance.

“You ready?” Remy asked, pulling off her sweatshirt.

Meredith dipped her toe in. The cold shot right up her leg. “We should have run here to warm up first.”

“Once we get in, it’ll be fine,” Remy said. “We just have to do it.”

“It’s Maine.”

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