Page 92 of The Cottage on Blueberry Bay

“And how’s that?” Kyle asked.

“Miserable.” Quinn didn’t know if Kyle just didn’t see the misery in the faces that went out every day on the water or if he just didn’t want to see it.

Kyle’s shoulders collapsed. “I just want to fish. Nothing else. Why is that so bad?”

There were a million different reasons why fishing was bad in Quinn’s mind, but as he looked at his son, he had to realize this wasn’t his life. Or Lisa’s. It was Kyle’s.

“I heard you offered to buy it with your college fund.”

“Yeah. It’s my money.”

“When you go to college,” Quinn said, though the twenty grand would only get him a semester or twomaybeat a local state school nowadays.

Kyle’s eyes flashed with anger. “You can’t tell me how to spend my own money.”

“You know she wanted you to go.”

Kyle growled. “Stop doing that with my mother!”

Quinn froze. Kyle had never yelled at him like that before, especially when it came to Lisa. They both knew their sensitivities when it came to his wife and Kyle’s mother.

“She was my mother, and I don’t want you to weaponize her anymore, okay?” Kyle’s eyes were wide and wild.

“That’s a really harsh thing to say. I’m trying to make you see how important it was for her.”

“There you go again.” Kyle shook his head. “You just can’t help yourself.”

“What about football?” Quinn said. Kyle had already racked up some offers to local schools. “You could play football in school. Why do you want to give that up?”

Kyle had a gift that many didn’t, plus the drive. He loved playing the game. Why did he want to stop playing a game he loved to work an eighteen-hour day of hard labor?

“Let me show you,” Kyle said. “Let me show you that I can handle this boat.”

Quinn recognized the request and saw its significance. This could be a changing moment in their relationship. Quinn could do what Kyle wanted or say no and keep badgering him about school, but he was tired of it all.

“Alright,” Quinn said. “But we have to include Meredith. It’s her boat.”

“Really?” Kyle’s eyes widened with shock. “You’re going to go out on Jacob’s boat with me?”

Quinn nodded. “But we’re staying close. In the bay.”

Kyle jumped up from the bench and climbed over the railing and down the ladder set up against the boat. Then he went back to the buckets, dumping the dirty water over the side. He dropped the supplies on the ground, then climbed down.

“Let me get ready,” Kyle said, running toward the house.

“I’ll go to see Meredith and ask about it all,” Quinn said as Kyle took off.

He walked down the dirt path from the barn to the cottage. The winding road hardly had travelers these days.

Quinn’s mind went back to Meredith’s text and the photos of the paintings. How much could they be worth? She could easily sell the pieces. They had to be a lot considering how many people kept hounding him about Jacob’s art. Even the governor of Maine had his assistant call for a painting in the Governor’s mansion.

He would tell Meredith that the gift was unnecessary. Keep it for her own children, Jacob’s grandchildren. They deserved it more than the people leaching off him for decades.

Before he reached the house, he heard the music playing.

At first, it blended in with the waves, drifting with the wind but becoming louder the closer he got to the cottage. He thought maybe it had been Jacob’s records playing. When he reached the back porch, he saw Meredith sitting at the piano and playing. Her eyes were closed and her whole being played the keys. She hit the notes hard, pounding the pedal with the keys, and the sounds echoed throughout his chest.

He was mesmerized.

---