Page 22 of Piece By Piece

She’d had so much failure in her recent life that even this simple kids’ event felt like the most important thing she’d ever done.

After all, it was the first event she’d planned since leaving Charleston.

And the last event she’d planned before that had been a product launch for a tech company that had a budget of $80,000 and a team of twelve people.

Tonight, all she had were fairy lights, a few quilts, and a puzzle guy who might not even come outside.

She walked around looking at her setup one more time.

The reading station had a stack of picture books and chapter book excerpts. Each one of them had a bookmark tucked inside.

The challenge was simple. Read a chapter aloud to a partner, whether it was a parent, a sibling, or even a stranger, and then bring the bookmark to Liza for a stamp.

If they collected three stamps, they could pick a prize from the treasure box, which was actually a wicker basket that she’d found in Dixie’s closet and then filled with pencils, stickers, and small notepads.

She definitely didn’t have $80,000 for this.

But standing there with fairy lights overhead and the smell of salt air drifting in from the marsh, it felt like enough.

This was hers.

She had texted Grant that morning.

Ready for tonight?

His reply, a long forty-five minutes later:

The tables are set up.

It wasn’t exactly the enthusiasm she’d been hoping for, but at this point, she had learned that Grant communicated in the same way he built crosswords, with as few words as possible while still getting the meaning across.

People started arriving around 6:30.

First there was a family that had three kids under ten years old, the youngest one riding on her father’s shoulders. Then there was a group of middle schoolers who walked up and seemed indifferent, pretending they weren’t enjoying anything. Then a grandmother holding her grandson's hand as he pointed out the fairy lights.

Liza greeted every single one of them.

Now she felt like she was in her element. All that nervous energy turned into pure Southern hospitality that she couldn’t turn off if she tried.

She gave out bookmarks that she’d made that afternoon that had the reading challenge printed on the back of them.

Meg’s daughter Vivi showed up with Meg around seven o’clock, and Liza recognized them from the bookstore earlier that week. Vivi immediately planted herself at the reading station and started organizing the cushions by color.

“She’s been talking about this all day,” Meg said, looking around. “This is really lovely, Liza.”

“Thank you. I had lots of help.”

She glanced over at The Puzzle Post.

Grant was standing behind his tables. He had come outside when the first family arrived and settled in with the quiet resolve of a man set on fulfilling an obligation, even if he hadn’t asked for it.

His sleeves were rolled up, his arms crossed, and he watched the crowd with an expression somewhere between acceptance and mild alarm. Grant was not in his element at all.

A boy who was maybe eight or nine years old walked up to the tangram station and stared at the pieces like they were a foreign language.

He didn’t even touch them.

He just stood there, hands at his sides, looking.