6. Alex
6
Alex
Alex sat in his truck, parked across the street a block down from Juno's Coffee Bar. He slouched low in his seat, his arms crossed tightly, his flannel just enough to ward off the pre-dawn chill. Through bleary eyes, he watched Juno navigate her morning routine, her silhouette clear through the front windows of the cafe, even with the blinds only half-open. She moved efficiently between the prep stations and the industrial coffee makers, her posture upright, her steps precise and graceful.
He wished he felt as put together as the woman inside the shop looked.
He hadn't slept. Again.
He'd been sitting here for at least half an hour, fighting the urge to rest his forehead against the steering wheel. The pain medication had worn off hours ago, but he'd refused to take another pill. One was enough. One had to be enough. He'd gone down that road before, and he wouldn't—couldn't—travel it again.
His ankle throbbed inside the walking boot. The urgent care doctor had said to stay off of it and keep it elevated for at least three days, and then to only put weight on it to help with balance until the swelling was down.
Well, it had been almost four days now, and Alex was tired of lying around being miserable and feeling sorry for himself. Ward and Penny had been over bringing him dinner the last three days, and they'd tag-teamed bandaging his shoulder last night, hoping he could rest easier, but to no avail. Between the physical discomfort and. of course, the memory of Juno's face when he'd called Payton "babe," sleep had been a lost cause.
Who was he kidding? Sleep had been a lost cause for a whole lot longer than the last couple of days.
Juno was now straightening chairs around tables and nudging small vases of fresh-cut flowers into their proper places. She paused at the door and gazed out, and for a heart-stopping moment, Alex thought she'd seen him. But she must have only seen her reflection in the glass because she just smoothed her apron, glanced at the wristwatch she wore, then headed back. Even with her back to him, he could tell that she was portioning out fresh-ground coffee into the machines for the morning rush. Fresh. Juno wouldn't have it any other way.
Not that he should know her routine so well. What was he doing out here, anyway?
He scrubbed a hand over his face, his palm rasping against three days' worth of stubble. The familiar pressure behind his eyes was building again, that bone-deep exhaustion that made operating any kind of machinery dangerous. That was a lesson he'd not soon forget. It had been in the early hours of a morning just like this, a little over a year ago, when he'd dozed off at the wheel and nearly joined his brother in the afterlife. If Ward hadn't answered the phone that night....
Alex's hands tightened on the steering wheel. He could still hear the screech of metal on metal when he'd hit the guardrail, still feel the sickening lurch as his truck left the road and the jarring jolt as he ended up nose down in the irrigation ditch. He still felt the rush of shame when Ward had pulled over to the side of the road where Alex had been waiting for him, the concern in his friend's eyes as he gave what felt like the third degree. "Are you hurt? Bleeding? Did you hit your head? Let me look at your eyes." He hadn't gone so far as to ask if he could smell his breath—Ward was a better friend than that—but Alex had noticed his flared nostrils, and knew he'd been scenting the air around him for the telltale stench of a man on a bender.
Although he didn't acknowledge Ward's unspoken suspicions, Alex insisted that he didn't need to go to the hospital, nor did he need to report the accident, and that the truck was fine. He just needed help getting it back up on the road. Even with the four-wheel drive, his tires spun in the thick mud in the ditch, and he had no scrap lumber in the truck bed to shove under them for traction.
Ward had finally backed off a little, and with a tow chain and his own 4x4 in gear, they'd managed to get The Beast back up on the road. The truck's front grill had taken the brunt of the abuse, but Alex had assured his friend that it was nothing he couldn't fix with a little Bondo and touch-up paint.
When the proverbial dust had settled and Ward started probing again, Alex had stuck to his story. He'd gone to bed too late, gotten up too early, and hadn't had his coffee yet, but they both knew exactly why he'd been out driving on that country road on that pre-dawn morning.
It had nothing to do with alcohol, although he didn't blame Ward for worrying. But sleep deprivation was its own kind of intoxication, and Alex found himself succumbing to the bad decision-making that came hand in hand with both. Over the years on nights when sleep eluded him, Alex had often made his way out to the cemetery at the edge of town in a vain search for answers for the tragic death of his brother. A death Alex still struggled to come to grips with even after all this time.
Lately, though, instead of the cemetery, Alex found himself parking outside Juno's Coffee Bar in the wee hours of the morning. "Like a stalker," he ground out. How he wished he could just go inside and sit down with a cup of coffee across the counter from her, to talk to her, to listen to her, to just be with her.
But that was just as unlikely to happen as getting answers in a cemetery, wasn't it?
The dash clock clicked to 4:49. In about ten minutes, Juno would unlock the front door and flip the sign to "Open." The early morning crowd would start trickling in - south shore fishermen trying to get a jump on the North Shore tourists, Thad grabbing a to-go cup on his way to open his the bait and tackle shop for them, Dixie May on her way home from working the night shift at the check-in desk of the Carpe Diem Resort, and lately, Ward, who'd been showing up earlier and earlier at Juno's place to pick up coffee and breakfast for the small crew he had helping him finish up the Garden Gate B he'd had a broken leg back in high school and the muscle memory had come back easily. He started to defend himself, but Juno had already shifted her attention back to Mrs. Becker.
"Let's get you inside," she said to the older woman as she held open the door for her. "I'll put on some tea and then you can sit and watch while Mr. Frampton and I get your tire changed for you."
Mr. Frampton? Alex almost snorted at the formality. And really? She was going to help him change the tire? Sure, he had no doubt Juno Thomas knew exactly how to put on a spare, but there was no way he was going to let her get her hands dirty right before she opened her shop. Sprained ankle or not, he did have his dignity. How he'd get the stupid spare out of the trunk by himself, he had no idea at the moment, but he'd figure it out, even if it meant spraining the other ankle.
"Mr. Frampton?" Mrs. Becker echoed his thoughts with a chuckle. "I haven't heard our Alex called 'Mr. Frampton' since high school, and that was only when he was in trouble." She winked at Alex, who stood a few feet away, giving Juno the space she evidently wanted. "Which, now that I think on it, was rather often, wasn't it?"
Alex grinned good-naturedly at the older woman's ribbing. Mrs. Becker had made it her mission to get to know each of the students who went through her classroom. She learned their strengths and weaknesses, their senses of humor or lack thereof, their habits and quirks, and more. She was the type of teacher who won Teacher of the Year awards, the type students attributed their adult successes to.
"Apparently, I'm still in trouble, according to Juno," he said, then grimaced as he realized how antagonistic the words sounded. I'm not baiting you , he tried to convey to her with the crooked grin he sent Juno's way. Alex knew what people—what women—thought of his smile, especially when he looked at them with a slightly sheepish gaze. He'd used "the look" to his advantage on more than one occasion, but at the sight of her narrowed eyes and the grim line of her mouth, Juno wasn't about to be charmed by him.
"I can't imagine why you'd think so," she replied, her tone nonchalant, but the rigid line between her shoulders told him his words had hit close to home.
As if sensing the tension between them, Mrs. Becker pushed open her door and took Juno's proffered hand. "Tea would be lovely, Juno dear." She allowed her to help her from the car, but her sharp eyes didn't miss a thing. "Alex, you look like you could use a cup of coffee. Or tea, if you'd prefer. My car can wait until we all have a little go-juice in our circulatory system." She wriggled her fingers in his direction. "Come on inside with us."
"That's all right," Alex said, digging his heels in. "I'll get started on the tire if you want to leave the keys with me."
Mrs. Becker hesitated, then handed them over. "All righty," she said with a playful wink. "But you know we'll be talking about you in there, don't you? You sure we can't change your mind?"
"On the house," Juno added, barely looking at him, and he could hear the tension in her voice. It bothered him to no end that he was the one that put it there, but he was at a loss as to how to go about mending things between them. He had no idea where to even start.
"Thanks," he said to her. "You know I won't say no to a cup of Juno's Java. I'll take you up on it after I get the tire changed."
Mrs. Becker nodded slowly, but the look on her face told Alex her mind was going a mile a minute behind her bright eyes. "Well, that's fine then. But I need to say that I'm glad to see both of you this morning. The Lord and I have been discussing you two, believe it or not. In fact, I was just over at Hazel's yesterday to see all the work they're doing, and I was telling her how proud I am of you both. I love it when I get to see my former students making such successes of yourselves. And right here in Autumn Lake, too." She patted Juno's arm. "I am so glad you decided to come back here to us, Juno dear."
Juno smiled. "I am, too." She gave the woman a quick side hug before leading her around the back of the car. "I've never wanted to live anywhere else."
Alex remembered her saying the same thing way back in high school. He'd talked non-stop about getting out of Autumn Lake one day, and Juno had talked non-stop about never wanting to leave. It had been one of the few things they'd heartily disagreed on. How ironic it was that Juno had been the one to leave Alex behind.
Alex trailed a good couple of yards behind them, not wanting Juno to feel encroached upon. Once the women were up on the sidewalk, he popped open the trunk and was greatly relieved to find the inside clean as a whistle, a first aid kit and a fleece blanket tucked in behind one wheel well, and a quality hydraulic jack tucked in behind the other. The spare, in good shape, thank goodness, sat in a well beneath the floor mat, not bracketed under the car like some older Buick models, and it was one of those ridiculous lightweight donuts that weren't meant to be driven on for more than a couple of miles. He could do this.
"So tell me, Mrs. Becker, what are you doing here so early?" he heard Juno ask the woman as she led her toward the front door of the shop. Alex was wondering the same thing. Was it even safe for her to be driving in the dark? Granted, the sky was quickly turning from cobalt to ash, the moody clouds overhead letting only a few shafts of early morning amber light tickle the tops of the tree line on the North Shore, but still, the woman had started her journey in the pitch black of the pre-dawn hour.
Alex listened as their voices faded, focusing on the task at hand. He knelt awkwardly beside the flat tire, careful to keep his weight off his bad ankle, and began loosening the lug nuts. His back screamed in protest as the movement pulled at his healing road rash. He gritted his teeth and continued working.
Through the shop window, he could see Mrs. Becker talking animatedly, her hands gesturing, while Juno stood with her arms crossed, nodding occasionally. Every few seconds, Juno's eyes would drift toward the window, toward him, before snapping back to her guest.
What was Mrs. Becker saying in there? And were they talking about him, just like she'd said? Did he really want to know?