That didn't mean, however, that Katie was comfortable with him. Last week, after she'd chatted easily with Kristen, he'd seen her reading the back covers of the novels he kept in stock. She didn't buy any of the titles, and when he offhandedly asked as she was checking out if she had a favorite author, he'd seen a flash of the old nervousness. He was struck by the notion that he shouldn't have let slip that he'd been watching her. "Never mind," he added quickly. "It's not important." On her way out the door, however, she'd paused for a moment, her bag tucked in the crook of her arm. She half-turned in his direction and mumbled, I like Dickens. With that, she opened the door and was gone, walking up the road.
He'd thought about her with greater frequency since then, but they were vague thoughts, edged with mystery and colored by the knowledge that he wanted to get to know her better. Not that he knew how to go about it. Aside from the year he courted Carly, he'd never been good at dating. In college, between swimming and his classes, he had little time to go out. In the military, he'd thrown himself into his career, working long hours and transferring from post to post with every promotion. While he'd gone out with a few women, they were fleeting romances that for the most part began and ended in the bedroom. Sometimes, when thinking back on his life, he barely recognized the man he used to be, and Carly, he knew, was responsible for those changes. Yes, it was sometimes hard, and yes, he was lonely. He missed his wife, and though he never told anyone, there were still moments when he could swear he felt her presence nearby, watching over him, trying to make sure he was going to be all right.
Because of the glorious weather, the store was busier than usual for a Sunday. 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. Sometimes, he felt he got a better sense by actually scanning the shelves to see what had sold the day before. A successful store required turning over the inventory as frequently as possible, and that meant that he sometimes had to offer items that no other stores offered. He carried homemade jams and jellies; powdered rubs from "secret recipes" that flavored beef and pork; and a selection of locally canned fruits and vegetables. Even people who regularly shopped at the Food Lion or Piggly Wiggly often dropped by on their way home from the store to pick up the local specialty items Alex made a point of stocking.
Even more important than an item's sales volume, he liked to know when it sold, a fact that didn't necessarily show up in the numbers. He'd learned, for instance, that hot dog buns sold especially well on the weekends but only rarely during the week; regular loaves of bread were just the opposite. Noting that, he'd been able to keep more of both in stock when they were needed, and sales rose. It wasn't much but it added up and enabled Alex to keep his small business afloat when the chain stores were putting most local shops out of business.
As he perused the shelves, he wondered idly what he was going to do with the kids in the afternoon and decided to take them for a bike ride. Carly had loved nothing more than strapping them into the bike stroller and hauling them all over town. But a bike ride wasn't enough to fill the entire afternoon. Maybe they could ride their bikes to the park … they might enjoy that.
With a quick peek toward the front door to make sure no one was coming in, he hurried through the rear storeroom and poked his head out. Josh was fishing off the dock, which was far and away his favorite thing to do. Alex didn't like the fact that Josh was out there alone-he had no doubt that some people would regard him as a bad father for allowing it-but Josh always stayed within visual range of the video monitor behind the register. It was a rule, and Josh had always adhered to it. Kristen, as usual, was sitting at her table in the corner behind the register. She'd separated her American Girl doll clothing into different piles, and she seemed content to change her doll from one outfit to the next. Each time she finished, she would look up at him with a bright, innocent expression and ask her daddy how he thought her doll looked now, as if it were possible he would ever say he didn't like it.
Little girls. They could melt the toughest hearts.
Alex was straightening some of the condiments when he heard the bell on the front door jingle. Raising his head over the aisle, he saw Katie enter the store.
"Hi, Miss Katie," Kristen called out, popping up from behind the register. "How do you think my doll looks?"
From where he was standing, he could barely see Kristen's head above the counter, but she was holding … Vanessa? Rebecca? Whatever the doll with brown hair was called, high enough for Katie to notice.
"She's beautiful, Kristen," Katie answered. "Is that a new dress?"
"No, I've had it for a while. But she hasn't worn it lately."
"What's her name?"
"Vanessa," she said.
Vanessa, Alex thought. When he complimented Vanessa later, he would sound like a much more attentive father.
"Did you name her?"
"No, she came with the name. Can you help me get her boots on, though? I can't get them on all the way."
Alex watched as Kristen handed Katie the doll and she began to work on the soft plastic boots. From his own experience, Alex knew it was harder than it looked. There wasn't a chance a little girl could somehow muscle them on. He had trouble putting them on, but somehow Katie made it seem easy. She handed the doll back and asked, "How's that?"
"Perfect," Kristen said. "Do you think I should put a coat on her?"
"It's not that cold out."
"I know. But Vanessa gets cold sometimes. I think she needs one." Kristen's head vanished behind the counter and then popped up again. "Which one do you think? Blue or purple?"
Katie brought a finger to her mouth, her expression serious. "I think purple might be good."
Kristen nodded. "That's what I think, too. Thanks."
Katie smiled before turning away, and Alex focused his attention on the shelves before she caught him staring. He moved jars of mustard and relish toward the front of the shelf. From the corner of his eye, he saw Katie scoop up a small shopping basket before moving toward a different aisle.
Alex headed back to the register. When she saw him, he offered a friendly wave. "Good morning," he said.
"Hi." She tried to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, but it was too short to catch. "I just have to pick up a few things."
"Let me know if you can't find what you need. Sometimes things get moved around."
She nodded before continuing down the aisle. As Alex stepped behind the register, he glanced at the video screen. Josh was fishing in the same spot, while a boat was slowly docking.
"What do you think, Daddy?" Kristen tugged on his pant leg as she held up the doll.
"Wow! She looks beautiful." Alex squatted down next to her. "And I love the coat. Vanessa gets cold sometimes, right?"