Page 76 of The Cottage on Blueberry Bay

Meredith nodded, closing the picnic basket. “Why don’t I meet you on the beach in a little bit.”

Remy took the basket and popped her earbuds in. “I have a great new audiobook I need to finish anyway.”

Meredith appreciated Remy giving her space.

She picked up her cell phone and dialed her eldest daughter first. Cora had been living in South Boston for a few years working as a waitress. From a mother’s perspective, Cora had been an amazing first child—easy as a baby. So easy, she had gotten pregnant right away with Muriel, who had been anything but easy. When the girls were both in school, Ryan came along.

“Hey, Mom,” Cora said into the phone. Meredith could hear someone talking in the background.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Meredith asked, looking at the clock.

“Well, it’s ten o’clock on a weekday,” she said, almost exasperated.

“Right. Well, I just wanted to invite you to a cottage on the beach up in Maine,” Meredith said.

“When?” she said.

“Whenever, really.” Meredith didn’t know how she could explain everything in the brief time period Cora usually gave her on the phone. “But there’s a blueberry festival at the end of August. It should be really fun.”

“Um, sure. Where is this place?” Cora asked.

“It’s on the beach in Maine. Right on the beach, actually,” Meredith said. “I’ll send you pictures of it, because it’s mine.”

She couldn’t believe it. The cottage by the sea was hers. “Le gîte en bord de Mer. That’s what it’s called. The cottage by the Sea. I inherited my father’s cottage—my birth father.”

Cora didn’t say anything for a while. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, why?” Meredith could hear the concern in her daughter’s voice.

“Well, if you’ve inherited a cottage, doesn’t that mean your birth father died?” Cora asked.

“Yes, he did,” Meredith said. She thought of the dozens of little reasons why she shouldn’t have told the kids. Phillip and his wife just had the baby. She hardly ever mentioned Jacob being her father, so his death meant even less than it had to her.

She stopped the excuses, but the truth was, his deathhadmeant something to her.

“Yes, he passed away at the beginning of the summer,” Meredith said. “I just recently found out myself.”

“How long have you been in Maine?” Cora asked.

“Only a little while,” Meredith said. “I’ll send you the address. It’s beautiful.”

“Are you going to stay there?” Cora asked, surprised.

“For the summer, yes.” She was a little more confident with her answer this time. Then before she knew what she was saying, she said, “I’m thinking of selling the house.”

“Really?” Cora sounded as shocked as Meredith felt.

“Yes, I think it’s time to downsize.” It was the truth, but she hadn’t ever cared about the size before. “I wish you kids wanted it.”

It had been a wonderful house to raise a family in.

“Maybe Muriel and her boyfriend will leave the woods of New Hampshire,” Cora said.

Meredith knew how Cora disapproved of her sister’s choices.

“I don’t think a teacher’s salary can cover it,” Meredith said. Only a lawyer’s salary could keep up with the costs of living in Andover. “The property taxes alone are outrageous.”

Cora sighed into the phone. “I guess I could try to make it up there.”

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