Page 42 of Piece By Piece

Dixie was right about his arms.

She had not, however, mentioned that Kyle had the attention span of a golden retriever.

He picked up the tangram set, studied it for thirty seconds, and put it down.

He tried the logic grid, got through two clues, and then pushed it aside.

He even picked up a puzzle box, shook it like a maraca, and set it back on the table.

“These are cool,” he said, “but I’m more of an outdoorsy type guy. You know, I like doing things. Physical things.”

“Well, puzzles are things,” Liza said.

“Yeah, but like inside things.”

He said inside things the way somebody might say tax audit.

From across the table, Dixie leaned toward Liza and whispered loud enough for half the porch to hear, “Doesn’t he have good arms, though?”

Liza closed her eyes and wished to be anywhere else.

Grant was behind the counter, reorganizing a display that didn’t need reorganizing.

He had not said one word since Kyle arrived, which Liza had initially thought was his usual quietness.

But then she caught him watching twice with an expression that was somewhere between blank and thunderous.

Like Grant was on the verge of a volcanic eruption.

Kyle left after an hour, having not completed a single puzzle.

He shook Liza’s hand, which felt more like a job interview than the conclusion of a date, and then jogged off toward the marina like a man who had just been released from captivity.

Dixie watched him go.

“Well, I guess he wasn’t the one either.”

“You think?” Liza said.

“Now don’t get smart with me. I’ve still got the pharmacist.”

“Dixie, please. No more. No more pharmacists. No more firefighters. No more kayak operators. I am begging you.”

Dixie crossed her arms.

“Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you’re fifty and alone.”

“I’m only thirty-two.”

“Honey, fifty comes a lot faster than you think.”

The square was quiet as the crowd cleared out and Dixie went home.

Liza found herself sitting outside between the two shops on the top step with her chin in her hands, watching the lightning bugs blink in the grass across the street.

Grant walked out a few minutes later and sat down on the step beside her. He didn’t sit close, but he wasn’t too far away either. He was the exact distance of a man who was pretending he had accidentally sat there.

“So,” he said, “the kayak guy?”