By the time Alex unlocked the door at seven, there were already three boats tied at the dock waiting for the pump to be turned on. As was typical, while paying for the gas, the boat owners loaded up on snacks and drinks and bags of ice to stow in their boats. Roger — who was working the grill, as always — hadn’t had a break since he’d put on his apron, and the tables were crowded with people eating sausage biscuits and cheeseburgers and asking for tips about the stock market.

Usually, Alex worked the register until noon, when he would hand over the reins to Joyce, who, like Roger, was the kind of employee who made running the store much less challenging than it could be. Joyce, who’d worked in the courthouse until her retirement, had “come with the business,” so to speak. His father-in-law had hired her ten years ago and now, in her seventies, she hadn’t showed any signs of slowing down. Her husband had died years earlier, her kids had moved away, and she viewed the customers as her de facto family. Joyce was as intrinsic to the store as the items on the shelves.

Even better, she understood that Alex needed to spend time with his children away from the store, and she didn’t get bent out of shape by having to work on Sundays. As soon as she showed up, she’d slip behind the register and tell Alex he could go, sounding more like the boss than an employee. Joyce was also his babysitter, the only one he trusted to stay with the kids if he had to go out of town. That wasn’t common — it had happened only twice in the past couple of years when he’d met up with an old army buddy in Raleigh — but he’d come to view Joyce as one of the best things in his life. When he’d needed her most, she’d always been there for him.

Waiting for Joyce’s arrival, Alex walked through the store, checking the shelves. The computer system was great at tracking inventory, but he knew that rows of numbers didn’t always tell the whole story.