Page 89 of The Cottage on Blueberry Bay

Meredith wiped away a tear that had fallen. “I miss her so much.”

“Oh, sugarplum, she’s there. Just play for her,” he said.

Bill came and picked Gordon up, but not before he told her he loved her.

“Are you coming up with the kids?” she asked. “Cora will pick you up if you want.”

“That’s a good idea,” he said. “I’ll think about it.”

When she set the phone down, she saw a notification of a voicemail. She picked up her phone and hesitated for a moment. Should she listen to what Phillip had to say—same thing but different day? Did she want to feel worse? Because she always did after she listened to his excuses. Her thumb hovered over the button to listen, then with a swipe, she deleted it.

Meredith set down her phone, put her fingers in the proper position on the piano, and played.

She played song after song, anything she could remember. She replayed “Till We Meet Again” and played some of Gordon’s favorites as well. She hadn’t played that much in years. And it felt good. Really good.

When she finished the last song, she heard soft clapping coming from outside. She looked to see where it came from and saw Quinn standing there on the back porch looking in through the screen door.

“Meredith,” he said, “that was unbelievable.”

Her face instantly heated. “Thank you.” She looked at her fingers at the keys. “I’m a little rusty.”

“I haven’t heard that played…ever,” he said. “I didn’t even know Jacob had it before you all came.”

She pulled down the wooden cover and pushed away from the piano. “What’s up? Did you need something?”

He smiled but stayed on the porch. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You can come in,” she said, walking through the kitchen and opening the door.

“I couldn’t help but stop by and see who was playing that beautiful music,” he said, staring at her.

“Oh, no,” Meredith said. “You could hear it all the way to your house?”

She looked across the yard, hoping she didn’t appear ridiculous. She could really fall into her music, and like dancing, she moved to the rhythm.

“This is so exciting. A real musician right next door!” Ginny clapped her hands appearing out of nowhere by the front door.

“Ginny?” Her blushing turned to mortification. How many more people in Blueberry Bay had heard her play? “I haven’t played in years.”

“You-hoo,” a woman’s voice said from another open window from the back breezeway.

“Pauline?” Meredith swung around to see the town councilwoman holding a casserole dish. “When did you show up?”

“I was stopping in with some of my blueberry crisp.” Pauline pulled back a blue-and-white-checkered cloth with what appeared to be a crisp underneath.

“Pauline won first place with that crisp in the baking contest last year,” Hazel said, now standing next to Ginny.

“Seriously?” Meredith swung her head to Quinn, who gave her a smile.

“You play beautifully,” Carolyn said, now with Pauline.

“The sound travels to the fields?” Meredith looked out at the bay. The cliffs and hillside did create a natural amplifier with the cottage smack dab in the middle of it.

“Gorgeous music,” Quinn said, his eyes right on her, making butterflies flutter in her belly.

Whoa. What was that?

“Thanks,” she said again.

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