Page 28 of Piece By Piece

“You’ve got yourself a regular then.”

The man tapped the counter twice and left with his bag.

Grant watched him go, chewing on a feeling he couldn’t quite identify.

He wasn’t proud, exactly. Something close to that, though.

A feeling of the thing he’d built being useful to someone he’d never expected.

He had designed The Puzzle Post to be quiet and self-contained. A place people would find if they were looking for it, and only if they were looking for it.

He sure hadn’t accounted for what happened when someone named Liza Forrester strung fairy lights to his awning and made the whole street pay attention to him.

It was a bit disorienting.

But not unpleasant.

She showed up around 2 p.m., carrying a ceramic cookie jar that was shaped like an owl.

Grant was restocking his crossword shelf when the little bell rang over the door. He turned around, and there she was, holding that goofy owl jar against her hip like a toddler, with a big grin on her face.

“What on earth is that?”

“It’s a cookie jar for your counter. For your customers.”

She walked past him and set it on the counter near the register, adjusting the position with confidence. She had definitely already decided this was happening.

“I didn’t ask for a cookie jar.”

“Well, nobody asks for a cookie jar, Grant. It just appears in your life and makes everything better. You know, like a beautiful sunset or a cute dog in a sweater.”

He looked at the owl.

It was brown, with huge painted eyes and a slightly crooked beak. It was, by a wide margin, the least sophisticated thing he’d ever considered putting in his carefully designed shop.

“It just doesn’t match anything in here.”

“Exactly. That’s the charm of it.”

She lifted the lid and peeked inside like a child.

“It’s empty right now, but I thought you could fill it with whatever. Maybe Dixie’s snickerdoodle cookies. Or store-bought ones. That’s fine, too. I mean, no judgment from me.”

“You’re putting a ceramic owl on my counter.”

“Yes. For the customers. Not for you.”

“Right.” He was having a really hard time figuring out how any of this was happening.

“I mean, unless you want some,” she added. “Then I guess it’s also for you.”

He opened his mouth to argue with her, then closed it because Liza was already walking toward the door. Arguing with someone who was already leaving was basically just yelling into the wind.

“You’re welcome,” she called over her shoulder.

Then the bell rang, and she was gone again.

He looked at the owl.