Page 11 of The Cottage on Blueberry Bay

The drive was smooth at first, but then she hit traffic from New Hampshire all the way through Portland.

That’s when Phillip called her.

Her stomach dropped. She hadn’t spoken to Phillip since the baby was born.

“Hi, Phil,” she answered and put it on speaker. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Mer,” he said, causal like she had congratulated him on his softball league, not a new child in his family. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

She put the blinker on, getting in the slow lane. “No, I’m just driving. What’s up?”

She should make an excuse. Remy would give her grief for even answering his call. What was she doing talking to her ex-husband on the phone?

“Is there something you want to talk about?” She would stick to business. They shared three amazing children and needed to get along.

“Gosh, Meredith, I forgot how much there is to do with a newborn,” he said, sounding overwhelmed.

“Yeah, babies are a lot,” she said.

But she had loved that age. Those had been her favorite moments of her life—the first few days with her babies. Phillip acted like he remembered what it was like. He had been a wonderful father, but he had left the hospital hours after the birth of all their children and had to work. When their children were born, he was putting in extra hours trying to make partner. His firm had praised him in his annual review for doing so.

They had sold their condominium in Southie and moved in with her parents while they looked for houses. It had been bliss. Living with Gordon, a pediatrician, had been so helpful and gave her anxiety-free help. Gordon loved being a grandfather, and Jacqueline had adored her grandchildren.

Meredith’s sister, being younger, still lived at home and had become a doting auntie for Cora.

Then a piece of land down the road from her parents had become available, and they’d put in an offer right away. It had taken a year to build, but they hadn’t minded the wait to have exactly what they wanted for their growing family. She had Muriel next, then Ryan, and then Phillip had said he didn’t want any more children when she’d said she wanted a fourth.

“You were such a natural,” he said.

“Phillip, what do you want?” she asked.

“I just wanted to talk to you. Get some perspective, you know?” He groaned. “Sometimes I feel like I’m dealing with the girls with Rylie.”

“Ouch,” she said. “That’s really not my business.”

“I know, I know,” he said, continuing with his complaining. “It’s just a lot.”

She tried biting her tongue, but as she sat in traffic, sweltering with a hot flash, she snapped and said, “She’s at a totally different stage of life and you knew that going in.”

“Geez, Meredith, I’m calling to thank you,” he said. “You did all that work with the kids, and I just never knew how hard it was for you.”

She sat there completely at a loss for words. Phillip had thanked her?

She moved the vents of the air-conditioning to hit her on the upper lip just perfectly, instantly cooling her off.

“I’m sorry. I should let you go,” he said.

She should let him go. She should not talk to Phillip like everyone kept telling her. It was unhealthy. It was holding onto something that wasn’t real. He wasn’t her husband. He was someone else’s, and he was using her.

“I’m headed to Maine,” she blurted out, unable to let him go. “My real father, Jacob, died.”

“Really?” he said. His voice immediately became sympathetic, and her heart pricked. “When?”

“Last week, I guess,” she said. She shouldn’t have brought Jacob up. It wasn’t Phillip’s business anymore. He wasn’t her husband any longer.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and that was when she could feel the familiar comfort his voice gave her.

“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes at herself. Why was she so weak when it came to Phillip? “I didn’t even know the man.”

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