Page 81 of Piece By Piece

That void in the grid where no letters go, where there’s no meaning.

He picked up the stay crossword.

It was still on the table.

The photocopy of the one he’d given to Liza.

He traced the letters with his fingers.

S-T-A-Y.

Four letters.

The simplest word he’d ever put in a grid.

And the hardest one to mean.

He thought about what she’d said at the shop.

What if you don’t?

Words that had knocked the air out of him.

What if he didn’t lose her?

What if the thing he was running from was the one thing he could actually keep if he would just stand there long enough to let it happen?

At 5:30, the sky started to lighten.

Grant put on his shoes and went out.

Went to the only person on the island who just might understand.

Dawson was already sitting on his front porch.

Grant was starting to wonder if this man ever got any sleep.

“Pretty early,” Dawson said.

“Yeah, well, I messed up.”

“I know.”

Grant sat down in the rocking chair.

The ocean was dark. The sky was a gray-pink color.

He told Dawson everything.

The Meridian offer, the pulling away, the journalist, the confrontation, Liza’s face when she’d said, “It’s what you do.”

Dawson listened without interrupting, and when Grant finished, he looked at him.

“So, what do you want?”

“I want to fix it.”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked what you want.”