8. Alex
8
Alex
Alex grabbed the crutches he'd leaned against the trunk and hobbled toward the coffee shop door, his ankle throbbing with each hop. Changing Mrs. Becker's tire had been more taxing than he'd anticipated, but he'd managed it, and there was a small satisfaction in that.
"Thad, my good man," he said, just as the owner of the bait shop opened the door and stepped back to let him in ahead of him.
"Morning, Frampton. You've seen better days."
"That I have," Alex said with wry chuckle. "Thanks." He headed into the restroom to wash the brake dust from his hands, then headed toward Mrs. Becker's table, surprised to see Juno slipping away, her expression troubled. Had he interrupted something?
"All done," he announced, setting the Buick keys on the table in front of her. "It's just a donut spare though. You'll need to get it replaced properly today. Do you need help setting that up?"
"My hero," Mrs. Becker beamed. "Thank you for rescuing this damsel in distress." She pointed at the chair that Juno had just vacated. "Now come sit before you fall over."
He hesitated, watching as Juno efficiently handled Thad's order, but when she lingered behind the counter after Thad said his goodbyes, Alex lowered himself gingerly into the chair, careful not to jostle his ankle. The smell of freshly ground coffee filled the air as Juno worked at her espresso machine.
"Extra cream, three sugars," she said, her voice carrying above the whir of the grinder. "Right, Alex?"
His chest tightened with pleasure that she knew exactly how he liked his coffee. "That's right." Sure, she'd remembered Thad's usual order, too, but a 'large black coffee to go and one of your morning specials' was hard to mess up.
When she returned to their table and handed him the coffee, he noticed that she deliberately avoided touching his fingers. His hands were clean, so he couldn't excuse it away; she was maintaining her distance. Not that he could blame her.
He took a cautious sip. The coffee was so good—exactly how he liked it, exactly how she'd always made it for him. "Wow. That's perfect."
"Good. Now do you want to tell me what you were doing parked outside my coffee shop in the dark this morning?"
Alex was taken off guard by the direct question, but he was pleased to note that she sounded more curious than upset. That didn't mean he wanted to explain his presence, though. Maybe he could avoid doing so by making light of it. He cleared his throat. "Hadn't you heard? I'm a small town local hero. I arrived just in time to help Mrs. Becker change her flat." He shifted in his seat to relieve the twinges of discomfort shooting up his leg, but then let out a sharp grunt when he accidentally bumped the brace against the table leg.
"Here," Juno said suddenly, grabbing a chair from another table and swinging it around to face him. "Put your foot up here. You're supposed to be elevating that thing."
"Thank you." He carefully lifted his leg, wincing as he settled his booted foot onto the chair. "So Mrs. Becker," he said with a grin at the older woman. "I know Juno already asked you, but what brought you here so early in the morning?"
"Oh! Well, I'm picking up Ward's breakfast order for his crew out at the Garden Gate," she explained. "Hazel and I are spending the morning out in the garden with Judy. The poor thing is quite distressed by all the activity in the kitchen; it's her favorite room in the house, and she's struggling to process all the changes."
Reality crashed back. Right. "Yeah, he's got my crew working for him this week. Without me. Stupid ankle." He knocked on the frame of the brace in frustration, then asked, "But how did you get recruited? No offense intended, but are they that desperate?"
"Hey now," Mrs. Becker chided, wagging her spoon at him. "I may be retired, but I still come in handy sometimes. I offered to make everyone a breakfast casserole, but I think Hazel let slip that my kitchen skills have something to be desired. Ward insisted that I pick up breakfast from here rather than cooking it myself."
He smiled despite himself. Mrs. Becker had always been able to pull him out of his darker moods, even back in high school.
"Well, no one makes better breakfast sandwiches than Juno," he said, genuinely meaning it. Then quickly added, "Not to say anything against your casserole."
Mrs. Becker's eyes twinkled. "And speaking of kitchen skills, no one is better at installing kitchen cabinets than you, Alex. At least that's what Ward was saying yesterday. They could use your help. Why don't you head on over there with me? I know they'd put you to good use."
He gestured at his ankle. "I'm not much use to anyone right now."
"Nonsense," Mrs. Becker waved dismissively. "Penny was just telling me yesterday how much they miss having you around. Said the place isn't the same without your terrible jokes."
From the corner of his eye, he caught Juno's smile—quickly suppressed, but definitely there. His jokes had always been terrible; he wasn't afraid to admit it. Deliberately so. He shook his head. "Nah. I'm probably going to head back to my place and put my foot up for the rest of the morning. Maybe try to get some sleep," he added. It sounded so good to his ears, even though he knew how unlikely it was. At least the sleep part.
"Right after a cup of sugar and caffeine? Ha." Mrs. Becker wasn't buying it. "And you can put your foot up over at the Garden Gate, too. That way you can still contribute your expertise to the project. Besides, I'd really appreciate you following me over. I'm a little worried about driving on that funny little tire."
Low blow. Mrs. Becker knew exactly what she was doing, playing on his instinct to help. And it was working.
"And Juno," the older woman turned to her, catching her as she started back to the counter.
"Yes?"
"Aren't you bringing lunch by today, too? You should take your break then and join us."
Wait, what? Alex's gaze snapped to Juno, who looked as surprised as he felt. Maybe he'd head to the bed and breakfast after all.
"I don't have that on my calendar," Juno said, frowning slightly.
"Oh. Well, I guess Ward just forgot to put his order in." Mrs. Becker's innocent expression was about as convincing as a politician's apology. "I'm sure he'll call you this morning."
Alex fought the urge to laugh at the transparent matchmaking attempt. Glancing at Juno, he could see she was having the same struggle. For a moment, it felt like they were co-conspirators again, sharing a private joke at someone else's expense. Just like old times.
The moment slipped away as Dixie May pushed through the front door, still in her Carpe Diem uniform. "Hey, gang. What are you all doing up at this ungodly hour?" she asked. "Well, not you, Juno. You have to be up at this ungodly hour or people like me will die."
"Die?" Mrs. Becker echoed, eyebrow raised.
"Yes, Mrs. Becker," Dixie May nodded emphatically. "Literally, not figuratively, die. Dead. Kaput."
Juno looped an arm through Dixie May's and walked with her back to the counter. "Come on. I'll hook up your life-saving IV for you." Over her shoulder, she added, "And I'll get Ward's order for you, too, Mrs. Becker."
As soon as Juno was out of earshot, Mrs. Becker leaned closer to Alex, her voice dropping. "You need to talk to that girl, Alex. Tell her about what you've been through."
His stomach plummeted. "I'm sorry. What?"
"She didn't know about Jason, Alex," Mrs. Becker said gently. "All this time back in Autumn Lake, and no one ever told her."
"That wasn't your story to tell." He fought to keep his voice steady.
"Perhaps not," Mrs. Becker conceded. "But I'm old enough to know that sometimes people need a little push. And you two have been circling each other for eight years now."
"It's not that simple," he said, rubbing his temple where a headache was forming. "I messed things up pretty badly."
"I know." Mrs. Becker's eyes were kind as she nodded. "She told me about the letters."
"Letters?" Alex frowned. "What letters? I don't know about any letters. I'm talking about—" He broke off, stopping himself before he could spill his secret. Now was not the time and place, and not with his old teacher, either. "What are you talking about?"
Her expression shifted from understanding to confusion. "The letter she wrote to you explaining her reasons for leaving."
A chill spread through his chest. "I never heard anything from Juno after she left. It was like she disappeared off the face of the earth." His voice trembled just the slightest bit. But before he could press for more details, Juno returned to the table carrying a large carry-out box. Both he and Mrs. Becker fell silent, watching her approach.
"Four breakfast sandwiches, two thermoses of coffee, and a dozen cinnamon rolls," Juno said, patting the side of the box. "Penny's favorite. I'll carry them out to the car for you."
"Perfect," Mrs. Becker beamed, reaching for her purse, and getting to her feet while Alex struggled to do the same. "So we'll see you at lunch time, right?" she pressed.
Juno nodded good-naturedly. "I'll watch for the order."
Alex gathered his crutches, his mind racing. Juno had written to him? For fifteen years, he'd believed she'd simply disappeared without a word, without a backward glance.
"Need a hand with that?" Juno asked, nodding toward his empty coffee cup as he balanced awkwardly on his crutches.
"No," he said, more abruptly than he intended. Then, softening, "I mean, I've got it. Thanks."
He had to talk to her, had to find out about her letter. But not here, not now, with Mrs. Becker watching and customers arriving and his thoughts in chaos. He followed along behind the women, feeling useless while Juno held the door for Mrs. Becker, then for him, her arms full with the food box that he couldn't carry for her.
Standing on the sidewalk, he watched Juno help Mrs. Becker into her car. Juno had written to him. His mind was going a mile a minute. What had she written?
At that moment, she lifted her gaze, and their eyes met over the top of Mrs. Becker's car.
Then she smiled. That beautiful June-bug smile that he'd dreamed about for nearly two decades.