Page 43 of Piece By Piece

“Oh, please don’t.”

“He shook the puzzle box like a maraca.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You know, that’s not how puzzle boxes work.”

“I know, Grant.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“The firefighter talked about trucks, and the kayak guy can’t sit still for three minutes. Dixie does not have a great track record with this.”

She looked at him. He was staring straight ahead, jaw set and his hands clasped between his knees, like he was holding back on giving her a speech.

“Are you jealous?” she asked.

The question hung in the air.

“Of the man who can’t solve a four-piece tangram?” Grant said. “Hardly.”

But he didn’t say no.

She noticed that.

He always deflected.

The tension between them sat heavy in her arms and her chest, in the space between their shoulders. Something had been building since the storm, but she didn’t push it.

She was learning that pushing Grant was like pushing a puzzle box.

You had to let it open on its own.

The square was empty, and the fairy lights swayed in the breeze.

From somewhere down the block, she heard a screen door bang shut and a dog bark once, and then it was quiet.

It felt like the entire island had gone to bed all at once.

Grant leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“For the record, I don’t think Dixie’s wrong in wanting you to find somebody.”

“Oh?”

“I just think she’s probably looking in the wrong places.”

He said it to the street, not directly to her.

“For what it’s worth,” she said, “I’m done with Dixie’s list.”

He turned his head.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Something passed between them, not a touch, not even words, but just a look that lasted a little longer than it should have.