Page 30 of Piece By Piece

Grant’s hands went still.

His coffee cup was halfway to his mouth, and it just hung there in midair, suspended.

He could barely breathe.

She didn’t seem to notice. She was looking at the fairy lights, lost in her memory.

“He always said W. Elliott understood his brain, like how it worked. Like the puzzles were written just for him. Isn’t that beautiful? To feel connected to someone you’ve never even met?”

Grant put his coffee down.

His throat was dry.

He knew right then he should tell her.

He should say, Liza, I’m W. Elliott. Your father’s favorite crossword creator is sitting directly across from you, and you gave him an owl cookie jar. And he didn’t know his puzzles meant that much to anyone. And hearing you talk about him is making it very hard to maintain the carefully constructed wall I’ve been hiding behind for three years.

But he didn’t.

He told himself that would just be self-serving, and it would make things weird.

He told himself that now wasn’t the right time.

But the truth was actually simpler than that.

Telling her would make it real.

And real was the thing that always scared him the most.

“Sounds like he was a good man,” Grant said.

His voice came out quieter than he intended.

She looked at him.

“He was the best man I’ve ever known.”

And then there was silence.

But it was the kind of silence that happens when two people are standing closer to each other than either of them even realizes.

The following day, Dixie pulled Liza into the back room of the bookstore. She had an urgency about her.

“Okay, I’ve done my research.”

“On what?”

Dixie showed her a piece of notebook paper that she had in her apron pocket. She unfolded it with a substantial amount of drama.

On it, in her fancy handwriting, were three names.

“Number one, Jake Brennan. He’s a firefighter, thirty-four years old, comes in here every Thursday for new releases. He has good teeth and good manners. And one time I saw him carrying Mrs. Henderson’s groceries up two flights of stairs without even being asked.”

“Dixie…”

“Number two, Kyle something or other. Now, he runs a kayak rental place over by the marina. I don’t know his last name, but I do know that he has biceps that could crack a walnut. Janine says he’s single.”

“Dixie, I really don’t…”