Page 58 of Piece By Piece

She pretended to read a book.

She hoped that they believed her.

She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out the notebook paper with the three bachelor names and looked at them for a long moment.

Then she folded it up, walked over to the trash can, and dropped it in.

She picked up her phone and called Julie.

“I think the puzzle guy might not be hopeless after all.”

“Oh, well, it’s about time,” Julie said. “What happened?”

“Well, I don’t exactly know the details, but I sure know the look. And honey, that girl is not going to need my list anymore. She looks kind of like you looked when you met Dawson.”

She hung up, went inside to get her sweater, and then left through the back door without making a sound.

Some moments just didn’t need a witness.

They just needed to be allowed to happen.

On her way to her car, she paused for a moment and looked up at the fairy lights between the shops.

They swayed gently in the breeze, connecting the two buildings the way only certain people do.

Dixie smiled to herself and drove home.

Grant walked her home.

Of course, it was only next door, about twenty steps, thirty if you counted the three stairs up onto the bookstore porch at the back, but he walked her there anyway.

The rain had stopped, the square was empty, but the fairy lights were on.

Neither of them spoke.

There was just nothing left to say that words could handle.

The important things had already been said, and what remained was the feeling of having been honest with someone.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, the same stairs where he’d almost reached for her hand during the storm.

That same narrow stairwell, the same dim light, the same two people standing a little closer than was necessary.

Liza turned back on the second step.

Their eyes were almost level, but he didn’t almost reach this time.

He actually took her hand, simply and directly, the way you would reach for something that you’ve decided you’re allowed to hold.

His fingers laced through hers.

His palm was warm and steady.

His grip was the kind that said, I’m here, without saying any words at all.

She held on.

They stood there for a moment, fingers interlocked, with the fairy lights making patterns on the wall beside them.