9. Juno
9
Juno
Juno stood at the window and watched the tail lights of Alex's truck disappear around the corner behind Mrs. Becker's Buick. He'd never actually said why he'd been lurking outside her coffee shop in the dark early morning. The thought sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine - not of fear exactly, but something deeper, more unsettling.
The Alex Frampton she remembered wouldn't have avoided a direct question like that.
Then again, the Alex she remembered wouldn't have been sitting in his truck watching her through windows before dawn, either.
The bell above the door chimed, making her jump. Claire burst in with her typical dramatic flair, but there was something different about her energy this morning - less theatrical and more... concerned? She hadn't even bothered to style her blonde curls, which were escaping from a messy bun, and she was without her signature Hollywood red lipstick. She was earlier than usual, too.
Claire also started her mornings early at her bookshop, hours before she opened to the public. She once explained to Juno that she liked to think of herself as something of a Miss Clavel from the popular Madeline series. "I'm the last one to leave and the first one to arrive, and I just want to make sure everything is in nice straight lines. Once I do a walk-through of the shop, I can get my coffee, sit down, and start on the other important things. Like bookkeeping," she'd added with a long-suffering sigh.
Claire had a marked flamboyant gene that she expressed in her fashion sense, but her shop was, indeed, run with the same precision of the storybook militant nun. So for her to show up in a bit of a tizzy like this?
"Don't be alarmed," Claire announced, as though reading Juno's mind. She made her way to the counter and planted herself on a stool, not bothering to remove her jacket. "but I've spent the last twenty minutes being a creepy creeper creeping on a creepier creeper." She paused for effect. "I was spying on him spying on you."
Juno's hands stilled on the espresso machine she'd been absently polishing. "What are you talking about?"
"I saw Alex's truck when I got to the shop to do my morning prep. He was just... sitting there. In the dark." Claire's usually playful tone had an edge to it.
Juno didn't know why she even bothered trying to play dumb, but she said nothing.
"I tried calling you," Claire added.
Juno patted her apron pockets. No phone. She must have set it down somewhere during all the hubbub around Mrs. Becker. Maybe she'd been outside helping the old woman out of her car when Claire called. "My phone is in the back," she said, although she knew that wasn't really any kind of response. At least not for someone like Claire. To keep busy, she started making Claire's usual morning drink - a hazelnut latte with an extra espresso shot. The familiar motions helped steady her hands.
"When you didn't answer, I decided to come over and ask you—or Alex— what was going on myself."
When Claire left the statement hanging, Juno prompted, "And?"
"And by the time I put on some makeup, got my coat back on, and walked around from the alley, Alex was driving away, following Mrs. Becker in her car." Claire reached over and plucked a cellophane-wrapped biscotti from a countertop display case. She removed the packaging just as Juno handed her a large to-go cup without a lid so that Claire could appreciate the fancy foam art before she took her first sip. "Which, I have to say, was not the dramatic conclusion I was expecting to my morning of espionage."
Juno chuckled. "It's too early for espionage."
"Apparently, not for Alex," she shot back. "Nor for me. You should have seen me. Well, actually, you couldn't have seen me since I'm so good at espionage. I kept my shop lights off so that I could watch him from the front window. The one with the new design. The silhouette of a girl holding the umbrella made of flowers and the rain clouds—"
"I know the window, Claire," Juno interrupted, taking the biscotti wrapper and dropping it into the trash. "I look at it every day." The Cracked Spine, Claire's eclectic bookshop, was kitty-corner to the coffee shop, and they often waved at each other when they happened to be in their windows at the same time.
"Right. But you didn't know I was there, did you?" Claire wiggled her eyebrows at Juno. "That's because I excel at subterfuge. I'm like a shadow. A wraith. An invisible woman."
Juno snorted. "You are not and will never be an invisible woman, my friend. Not with the way you look." It was true. Claire had an ethereal beauty that made people stop and take a second look. And it seemed so effortless, which made her even more attractive. On top of that, the woman was genuine and kind and the best friend a girl could ever have.
Claire ignored the compliment and took a careful sip of her coffee. She closed her eyes in pleasure. "Perfect," she murmured dreamily. "I don't know how you do it, woman. It's perfect every time."
"That's why you pay me the big bucks," Juno quipped, hoping Claire didn't notice that her cheeks warmed at the memory of Alex saying the same thing.
Claire pushed a couple of dollars across the counter for the biscotti, and Juno reluctantly took the cash for the baked good. Her friend sent so many customers her way, and Juno would have preferred not to charge her for anything, but Claire wouldn't hear of it. She only agreed to accept the first drink of the day as a complimentary one, and only after Juno threatened to not serve her at all if she didn't. A completely empty threat, they both knew, but it did the trick of preserving both their dignities while coming up with a satisfactory compromise for both parties.
"So?"
Juno glanced at the clock again; she kept hoping someone would come in and prevent the rest of this conversation, but no such luck. However, she was nothing if not stubborn. "So?"
"Oh my lands, Juno," Claire said on an exasperated sigh. "Will you please just tell me what went down this morning? I'm dying here, and I have a ton of bookkeeping to do, and you already know that I'll find any excuse not to do it. So if you don't want my business to collapse in financial ruin, talk." She cupped a hand around an ear. "I'm listening."
Juno frowned. "You're not going to go away until I tell you, are you?"
"Nope." But her expression grew concerned. "Should I be worried? About you? About him?"
"No," she said quickly. Too quickly. "Mrs. Becker got a flat tire right in front of the shop and he helped her change it."
Claire frowned as she processed that bit of information. Juno could practically see the puzzle pieces in her friend's mind being shuffled around to create this new scenario. Finally, she said, "Well, that explains that loud noise I heard. I had just chalked it up to The Gray Lady." Claire told anyone who would listen that her bookstore was haunted. Sometimes, Juno thought Claire actually believed it, herself. "But honestly, now I'm even more confused. Why on earth was that darling old lady up at this hour and here at your shop before you even opened?"
She dunked her biscotti into her coffee, then shoved a large bite into her mouth before it fell off into her cup. "And that still doesn't explain why Alex was here, too. Half an hour or more before you open. Sitting in the dark. Across the street. From your shop. Watching you." She paused between each sentence fragment. "Like a creeper."
Juno gave her a withering look. "Are you done?"
"Not even close. Not unless you spill the tea. Or the coffee, in this case." Claire's voice softened. "What's going on, Juno?"
"Honestly, I don't know," she admitted. "This isn't the first time I've seen him out there, either. The Beast is hard to miss, even in the dark."
Claire snorted and shook her head. "The Beast. Of course Alex named his truck."
I named it. Juno pressed her lips together, catching the rogue admission before it leaped out, but Claire noticed, and her eyes widened.
"What?"
"What, what?"
"What are you not saying?" Claire demanded. Then her eyes got even larger. "Wait. That's what you called his truck back in high school!" she exclaimed, smacking the countertop with an open palm. "He named his truck after you."
"Gee, thanks," Juno said dryly.
Claire chortled. "Ha! I'm not calling you a beast, silly."
"And it wasn't his truck back then. It was Jason's." Juno watched Claire's face to see what her reaction would be to Jason's name.
Claire nodded solemnly. "I remember." She tipped her head and gave Juno a gentle look. "I think you forget sometimes that I was there back then. I remember how you two were together, before—"
"Before I left?" Juno's voice came out sharper than she intended. She took a deep breath and modulated her tone. Claire knew good and well that Juno hadn't left of her own accord. Her friend didn't mean it that way. "That was a lifetime ago, Claire. We were kids."
Claire's expression didn't change. "Were we, though? You, especially, June-bug, were far older than your years. I could see it in your eyes; you'd lived a lifetime by the time we met."
"Prolonged childhood trauma does not automatically equate to maturity," Juno retorted, but she wasn't really angry at Claire. No, she was remembering how real, how… how forever her feelings were for Alex back then, and the shame that welled up in her for being so naive to have given him her heart threatened to overwhelm her if she let herself dwell on it. "We were kids," she repeated. "With kid problems, kid emotions, and kid behaviors. And it's all in the past now."
"But is it? I mean, I still don't know exactly what he did to you all those years ago, but you two are barely on speaking terms, and I know that's mostly your decision." Claire rested her forearms on the counter and wrapped both hands around her cup. "Maybe it's time to forgive him, Juno."
"What makes you think that he's the one who wronged me? What if it was the other way around and I'm the bad guy?" Juno sounded belligerent and antagonistic, even to her own ears, but the emotions bubbled hotly inside her, and she was struggling to keep them in check.
Claire shrugged one shoulder. "Then maybe it's time to forgive yourself." She didn't say it flippantly, but it still stung.
Juno shook her head and turned away, crossing to the display case where she straightened a row of ginger crinkle cookies on a cream platter. "You know, I don't really feel like talking about all of this right now. I'm open for business, remember? But since you're here, and you're obviously not going to let this drop, then let me ask you something."
"Of course."
Juno swallowed hard, then crossed her arms and looked her friend directly in the eye. "Why didn't you tell me about Jason?"