“I’m Devon,” said the old man, still holding his umbrella over Gladys. “Night guard at the warehouse. I’d shake your hand, but I’ve only got the one.”

Gladys noticed that his left arm did indeed stop just above the elbow. “Oh,” she said, “let’s go inside.”

Inside, they shook hands, then Devon gestured at the damaged storefront. “I thought someone had moved in, but until you started remodelling I wasn’t sure.”

“Yeah, we’ve been here a few months now, but it’s been slow going.”

“What kind of place are you putting in?”

“It’s,” said Gladys, “It’s a, uh, honey store.”