Page 50 of Piece By Piece

The email sat in his inbox like a ticking clock, and for the first time since he had arrived in Seagrove, the quiet that he had built up around himself felt less like peace and more like a cage.

Grant decided his best course of action was to go to the inn.

When he got there, Dawson was sitting on the back porch in one of the rocking chairs, holding a glass of sweet tea.

This was a man who knew how to be alone without being lonely, and Grant had come to appreciate Dawson over the last several weeks.

He was the only person on the island who didn’t try to fill the silence with conversation, which made him the easiest person for Grant to be around.

“Mind if I sit?”

“Help yourself. Sweet tea’s over there on the table.”

Grant poured himself a glass and then sat down in the rocking chair next to Dawson.

The ocean was invisible out in the dark, but he could hear it, the steady rhythm of the waves.

Somewhere down the beach, he could see a bonfire glowing.

They sat in silence for a moment.

Then Grant said, without meaning to, “How did you know?”

Dawson looked at him.

“How did I know what?”

“With Julie. How did you know that she was worth the risk? I mean, you told me the history of your relationship and where she was coming from. That was a lot of baggage for her and for you. So how did you know she was worth the risk?”

Dawson took a slow sip of his tea.

“I didn’t,” Dawson said. “I mean, that’s the honest answer. I didn’t know if it would work. I didn’t know if she’d stay. I didn’t know if she was ready to let somebody close to her again after everything.”

“So what made you try?”

“I realized that not trying was way worse. Living safe sounds good until you’re actually doing it. Then it just feels like you’re living small.”

Grant turned his glass in his hand.

The tea caught the porch light.

Dawson paused for a moment.

“You know, Liza is a good person, Grant. Whatever it is that you’re afraid of, and I’m not asking what that is, she’s worth being afraid for.”

Grant didn’t answer.

He just sat in the rocking chair for another hour listening to the ocean and thought about the difference between living safe and living small.

Before he left, Dawson said one more thing, and he said it in the way Grant had come to realize Dawson said most things: simply, without drama, like he was telling you the weather report.

“You know, this inn almost didn’t reopen. I had a hundred reasons not to do it. Too expensive, too risky, too much of myself on the line.”

He pointed around the porch, to the ocean.

“Best mistake I ever made was ignoring every single one of those reasons.”

Grant nodded and stood up.