Page 100 of The Cottage on Blueberry Bay

“A few months ago,” Cora said. “He said you can’t stay there.”

“He said thatIcan’t stay here?” The old feelings rushed back—the anger, the anxiety, the miscommunication, followed by the irritation.

“That you can’t afford it teaching piano lessons,” Cora said.

Meredith looked at the baby grand piano that sat in the front formal living room in her Andover home. A room for the piano and nothing else. She’d loved it when she’d first moved into the house. The two-story room carried the sound beautifully. Phillip had installed soundproofing when she had started teaching lessons as the kids got older. She had recitals each year and set up a party for the kids afterward.

Never once had Phillip told her to go back to her career so she could help earn. Never once had he made her feel she wasn’t contributing by staying home. In fact, she had given up her career, her dreams, to stay home for them.

She clenched her jaw and held back from saying something rude about Phillip. The insult wasn’t that she didn’t make the kind of money he did to afford the house. The insult was that she didn’t contribute to his wealth. If Meredith hadn’t stayed home, Phillip’s career would have looked very different at the law firm that prided their attorneys on working day and night for their clients, which Phillip did.

He became partner because she took care of everything at home. The house, the kids, all of it.

“Well, then you should come to the house anyway to pack your things. Maybe go through some stuff and take what you want.”

“I don’t think I have anything I want there anymore,” Cora said. “I mean, where will I put it? My apartment’s the size of a shoe box.”

“What about your porcelain horses?” Meredith had driven all over the state, spending hundreds of dollars on them.

“And your yearbooks and all that stuff?” Meredith thought about Christmas. “I have all the ornaments for Christmas. Will you want some for your apartment?”

“I have no room, seriously,” Cora said.

Where would Meredith put all her stuff? Where would she go if she sold the house? Would she stay in Andover? Go to Maine and live there by herself? Or sell the cottage and stay?

She could just stay. Live the way she always had and be fine.

Just fine.

But she sighed, feeling the old anger, anxiety, and irritation seep back in.

She hadn’t been fine. But she wasn’t fine now either. All she had done over the five-hour drive back to Andover from Blueberry Bay was think about Quinn. Think about how happy she had been in Blueberry Bay. How much she had enjoyed her time with Remy. How excited she had been riding in the boat with Kyle.

And Quinn. She couldn’t stop thinking about Quinn.

What had gone wrong?

Things had just ended so suddenly. One minute they were going to dinner, and the next it was over, just like that. He hadn’t even called or texted after sending information about the conservation land laws in Maine.

“I think you should just sell the house,” Cora said.

“Well, I’d like to talk to your sister and brother about that first,” Meredith said.

“Do what makes you happy, Mom,” Cora said. “You’ve always done what everyone else wants. Maybe it’s time you think about you.”

Meredith’s breath was swept away by her daughter’s thoughtfulness. She choked up as she said, “I think I’m going to do just that.”

“Good,” Cora said. “That house is just a reminder of what used to be, and it’s time to move on.”

Meredith looked around the room, remembering the pitter-patter of little feet pounding the floors. The soft lights of the Christmas tree glowing in the room. The smell of the fireplace on a winter day. The splashing in the pool during the summer. Her mother dropping in to have coffee and a chat. None of that existed anymore.

“I’m going to have an auction for all my father’s things,” Meredith said. “I’d really like you to come.”

“Okay,” Cora agreed, and quickly. No arguments, no vague maybe.

“Great, and if you want to choose some of his paintings for yourself, you can just choose what you want,” Meredith said.

Over the past weeks, she had studied the paintings, found her favorite, then changed her mind with the next painting she studied.

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