Page 56 of The Coffee Bar on Camellia Court

“We’ve come a long way since then."

“We have indeed,” he agreed. “Thanks for giving me second chance to explain, Juno. Not everyone would have been so understanding."

"I believe in second chances," she replied, thinking of her father eating a sandwich at her coffee bar just a few hours earlier. "Maybe more than I should."

Something in her tone made Alex look at her again. "Everything okay?"

Juno considered deflecting, but decided against it. If they were going to build something real—friendship or more—honesty had to be part of it.

"My father showed up this morning," she said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions the memory stirred. "He was waiting for me in front of my shop when I got home from church.”

"Your father?" Alex's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "What’s he doing here?”

Juno snorted. “That’s what I asked him, too.” She shook her head, still hardly able to believe it. “The one and only Leonard Thomas in the flesh, looking considerably worse for wear but claiming to be sober and wanting to make amends."

Alex was quiet for a moment, processing. "What did you do?"

"Well,” Juno hedged. “I kinda gave him a job. Custodial work at the coffee shop."

"You gave him a job," Alex repeated, as if making sure he'd heard correctly. "The man who hit you, who dragged you away from everything you cared about, who—"

"I know what he did, Alex." Juno's voice was sharper than she intended. She took a breath. "Sorry. It's just... it's complicated."

Alex made a visible effort to soften his reaction. "I'm sure it is. I'm not judging, I'm just surprised."

"So am I, honestly." Juno looked out the window at the familiar landscape of Autumn Lake sliding past. "Pastor Darren's sermon this morning was about forgiveness—how it's not about changing the other person, but about freeing yourself. It resonated with me more than I expected, and the timing was eerily providential. I mean, of all things to talk about on the day my father shows up acting all repentant and wanting to reconnect."

Alex nodded slowly. "I get that." He glanced at her. "It means the world to me, reconnecting with you."

The simple admission hung in the air between them, honest and vulnerable. Juno felt her heart expand with hope. "I feel the same way," she said softly.

They drove in comfortable silence for a while, the radio playing quietly in the background. As they turned onto the lakeside road that wound around to the Frampton property, Juno spoke again. "It’s a big risk for me, trusting him," she admitted. "I mean, Idon’ttrust him, but I feel like I need to give him a second chance, so maybe it’s me I’m trying to trust."

Alex reached across the console to take her hand, squeezing it gently. "If you need anything—someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, or just a friend to keep an eye on him—I'm here."

"Thank you." Juno squeezed back, grateful for his steadiness.

As they pulled into drive of the Frampton home, Lena burst out of the front door before Alex had even put the truck in park. She raced down the steps and across the lawn, Ralphy loping at her heels.

"Juno!" Lena called, skidding to a stop beside the passenger door. "You’re here!."

"Of course I came," Juno replied, climbing out of the truck. "I wouldn't miss a picnic with you two."

Lena beamed up at her, then gestured to the dog. "This is Ralphy. He's my grandma's dog, but he loves me the most now."

"He has excellent taste," Juno said solemnly, crouching to pet the friendly retriever. "It's nice to meet you, Ralphy."

"We’re staying overnight with Grandma and Grandpa," Lena announced proudly. "And Ralphy's sleeping in my room with me. It's really Uncle Jason's old room, but I don't think he'll mind."

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind at all," Juno assured her.

"Come on! Grandma made the picnic basket already. It's huge!" Lena grabbed Juno's hand and tugged her toward the house, where Roxanne Frampton stood on the porch holding a wicker basket nearly as large as Lena herself.

"Juno, dear, it's good to see you again." Roxanne's greeting was warm, genuine, if a bit reserved.

"Hello, Mrs. Frampton," Juno replied, suddenly feeling sixteen again, nervous about impressing Alex's mother. "Thank you for letting us use your dock."

"Of course. You're welcome here anytime." She handed the picnic basket to Alex. "We packed everything you might need. Lena helped make the sugar cookies—her first baking experience."

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