Page 13 of The Cottage on Blueberry Bay

When she reached the exit, a green sign with white lettering saying,Welcome to Blueberry Bay, Home of the Blueberry Festivalgreeted her.

She cringed at the cheesy name.

She checked the time. Ugh, she was already late for her meeting with Jacob’s lawyer. Her plan had been to see the cottage before talking with him, to see what they were going to be talking about. She pulled over on the side of the road and decided to text him that she would be even later than she already was, but her phone had no service.

She continued to drive through the small town, passing a school and a fire station as her GPS made her follow the public beach signs.

Suddenly, off in the distance, she could see the shimmering blue sparkling sea ahead. As if there were an invisible rope dragging her toward it, she had to get to the water. She hit the window buttons and rolled them all down, inhaling the briny sea smell. Along both sides of the road, seagrass and winding waterways meandered in and out of tall grass. Above her, a flock of white birds swooped through the air, soaring in unison above the tidal waters.

She drove down the main strip of tiny, shingled clapboard shops with touristy trinkets displayed in the windows. People lined the streets in sunhats and sunglasses, wearing bright beach attire and swimsuits. Beachgoers pulled wagons and colorful umbrellas. Window shoppers lined the streets, with husbands waiting on perfectly placed benches. Window boxes hung on every storefront and hanging flower baskets swayed in the sea breeze from the streetlights. Brick sidewalks lined each side of the street with granite street curbs.

Blueberry Bay was perfect, in a postcard-perfect kind of way. The village was impeccably clean. The people walking around looked happy as they talked and laughed together along the streets. She saw some waving at each other and exchanging pleasantries.

It would be the kind of town she would drag Phillip to for a weekend away.

Her heart pained at the thought she would never have a weekend away with him again.

And that was when the street opened to a large grassy square with a public garden, where a pier sat at the end. She didn’t even hesitate when she saw a parking spot. She knew this was the square from the pictures she’d seen online. She got out as soon as she turned off the car and walked straight to the statue.

At one end of the public garden rested the bronze mermaid sculpture lying on top of a granite pedestal.

Meredith gasped as soon as she saw her mother’s face looking back at her. She reached out to touch it and jumped at the cool touch. The statue smiled, her eyes half-closed as though she had been laughing. Her hair was down, pulled behind her shoulders as she looked off to the side toward land, toward Meredith.

She almost wanted to say hello—the statue looked just like her mother.

She read the inscription on the bronze plate attached to the pedestal.

Lady of the Sea, artist Jacob O’Neill.

She stared at the mermaid. Her father’s hands had created that statue. Working with bronze was a tedious task that took months, if not years, to finish.

And there was no doubt this statue was not of the young woman he’d had a baby with, but the older version she knew as her mother. Had her mother posed for her real father?

The statue was discreet enough. It wasn’t exactly a nude, but like Remy had said, Jacob O’Neill did not leave much to the imagination. Her mother’s full figure was the centerpiece of this beautiful garden and the first thing visitors saw when walking from the pier—her mother’s chest covered in seaweed.

She looked up at the face, the expression one she had seen so many times throughout her life. Pure happiness. Jacqueline never got defeated, even in the face of adversity. Her mother went from riches to rags with a baby on her hip and nothing stopped her.

Here Meredith was, falling apart because she had to sell her house.

She took a picture of the statue and sent it to Remy.Well, there’s no denying it. It’s definitely Jacqueline.

She looks radiant!Remy sent a heart emoji as though seeing your mother as a bronze statue wasn’t haunting.When did you go up there?

She felt like she was looking at a ghost, and one she didn’t know.Just now.

Have you seen the cottage?Remy texted.

Not yet.

Send pics when you get there!Bubbles appeared underneath.I’ll come as soon as you say the word!And she sent a kissing face emoji.

Meredith walked to the pier, and took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she listened to the sounds around her. She wished she had Phillip there by her side, someone that understood her like he did.

Yes, Remy understood, but Phillip had gotten to the heart of it. She’d wanted an apology all her life, and now he was dead and just a name on a statue. The irony was that the person she really wished she could talk to about all of this was memorialized in bronze just a few feet away from her. She wanted to scream at the statue.

How could you die without talking to your daughter about her past?How could you carry on a relationship and leave your daughter in the dark?

Did Gordon know about the statue?

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